'Cotch him first!' said Dingee, moving a little out of reach.
'Where Missee Hazel?'
'Prinking 'erself h'up,' answered Gotham severely.
'Gotham telling fibs!' said the young lady in question, coming up behind him with her light tread. 'Perhaps he had better take himself to the library, and report to Mr. Falkirk. What do you want of me, Dingee? I thought everything was here.'
Dingee had adroitly covered his basket again, but now he drew near and displayed his treasure, adding messages of a somewhat adorned nature, while Wych Hazel read the cards attached to the bouquets. Gotham, standing a little off, looked on indignant as before, and frowned at the flowers and the flushing cheeks drooped over them, as if he had been Mr. Falkirk himself. But when Hazel caught up the basket and ran off to her little corner room, then Gotham did betake himself to the library, though without quite the report suggested.
'Beg pardon, sir,' he said; 'Miss 'Azel 'ave just received a bushel of flowers, sir,—if you choose to be h'aware, sir.'
'A what, Gotham?' said the astonished Mr. Falkirk.
'No person of discretion to detain them at the 'ouse, sir, and so of course they followed Miss 'Azel down 'ere, sir. Boukets enough to last a h'ordinary person all summer, sir. And cards. And ribbands,'—concluded Gotham, beginning to clear the table for tea.
'Look here, Gotham,'—said Mr. Falkirk, from his sofa, whence his eyes followed his serving-man about.
'Yes, sir!' said Gotham, erect and motionless.
'Do you dare to speak of Miss Hazel as an ordinary person?'