“I am quite willing to suppose,” continued she, “that it is ignorance on your part rather than intentional misconduct which has led you into this; but from henceforth I wish it to be clearly understood that I shall expect you to remember your proper station in this house. Miss Atherton, let me tell you, has no need of your attentions. You perfectly understand me, Mr Jeffreys?”
Jeffreys bowed, still rather abstractedly.
“You do not reply to my question, Mr Jeffreys.”
“I perfectly understand you, madam.”
“I trust I shall not have to speak to you again.”
“I trust not,” said Jeffreys, with a fervour which startled the lady.
He left the room, outraged, insulted, sorely tempted to shake the dust of the place once and for all from off his feet. The evil temper within him once more asserted itself as he flung himself into his room, slamming the door behind him with a force that made the whole house vibrate.
The narrow room was insupportable. It stifled him. He must get out into the fresh air or choke.
On the doorstep he met Mr Rimbolt, alighting from his brougham.
“Oh, Jeffreys, so glad to have caught you. Look here. I find I must be in the House to-night and to-morrow, and I intended to go down to Exeter to attend that four days’ sale of Lord Waterfield’s library. I must get you to go for me. You have the catalogue we went through together, with the lots marked which I must have. I have put an outside price against some, and the others must be mine at any price—you understand. Stick at nothing. Take plenty of money with you for travelling and expenses. Do things comfortably, and I will give you a blank cheque for the books. Mind I must have them, if it comes to four figures. Go down by the Flying Dutchman to-night, and send me a telegram at the end of each day to say what you have secured.”