“And mine?”
“You were not here.”
“I am here now, and I object to Hodder’s being disturbed. Do I make myself clear?”
“But—”
“You must excuse me, Mr Pottinger. I shall be glad to discuss the matter with you in the presence of my co-trustees. Meanwhile, good-morning.”
The lawyer jumped out of his chair like a man shot.
“What, sir—you, an interloper, an adventurer, a nobody, a parasite—do you suppose I am going to be talked to by you as if I didn’t know my own duty. Do you know, Master Usher, that you can any day receive a week’s notice of dismissal—”
“A month’s, I think,” observed the tutor, taking up his hat. “In that respect, perhaps, I have the advantage of the solicitor to the trust. However, we won’t talk of that just now. Good-morning again.”
Mr Armstrong looked in on his friend the doctor, whom he found in an opportune moment at breakfast. The two men had a long chat over their coffee, and finally adjourned for a walk along the shore, ending up with a cool spring dip in Sheephaven Cove. After which, much refreshed, and glad to be once more in his familiar haunts, the tutor strolled cheerfully back to Maxfield for lunch. He was quite aware things had undergone a change. He had two new enemies, but he was not afraid of them. He had a new pupil, but he liked him. He had a devoted new champion, in the shape of a little girl, but that was no hardship, Roger, too, despite his new friends, was still loyal to his tutor; and Mrs Ingleton, by all appearances, still regarded him as a useful friend. What then was the difference! It could hardly have anything to do with a certain young person half his own age, with whom the tutor had not had two hours’ continuous conversation in his life, and of whose behaviour generally he did not at all know whether he approved or not.
“Ridiculous!” said Mr Armstrong to himself with a smile, as he strolled up the carriage drive.