“I say, sir, you might have written. Let me tell you, Mr Armstrong, that, as my dear relative’s co-trustee and guardian—”
“I am sorry,” observed the tutor, addressing Mrs Ingleton, “that Roger’s cough is still troubling him. He is waiting for me upstairs, by the bye, but I was anxious to offer you my apologies without delay for my long absence.”
“Mr Armstrong,” said the captain, stepping between the tutor and the door, “this will not do, sir. When I speak to you, I expect you to listen.”
Mr Armstrong bowed politely.
“I repeat, sir, your conduct satisfies neither me nor your mistress. You forget, sir, that you are here on sufferance, and I desire to caution you that it may become necessary to dispense with your services, unless— I am speaking to you, Mr Armstrong.”
Mr Armstrong was examining with some curiosity a china group on the mantelpiece. He turned round gravely.
“You were saying—?” said he.
The captain gave it up.
“We shall discuss this matter some other time,” said he.
“Pray, pray,” said Mrs Ingleton with tears in her eyes, “let us not forget that my boy’s happiness depends on our harmony. I am sure Mr Armstrong recognises that I depend on you both.”