Philip Crowdy gathered his wandering wits, and faced the question. “Mrs. Dolman—that’ll be the housekeeper,” he thought, rapidly. “But who the devil is Mr. Ogledon?” After a moment’s pause, he looked up, and said aloud—“Can’t say, I’m sure. You’d better send Mrs. Dolman to me.”
The young man went away, and the housekeeper presently came bustling in. She was a trim, neat, precise old lady, with a certain dignity of manner belonging to her station. She inclined her head, and folded her hands, and hoped that “Master Dandy” was well.
“Old servant—been in the family all her life,” thought Crowdy. Aloud he said—“I really can’t say, Mrs. Dolman, whether Mr. Ogledon will be here to-day or not. By the way, Mrs. Dolman”—this, as a brilliant idea struck him—“I think I shall change my room—my bedroom, I mean.”
The good woman raised her hands in astonishment. “Change your room, Master Dandy! Why—I never heard the like! What’s the matter with the room, sir?”
“Oh—nothing the matter with it; only I want a change; one gets tired of anything. Just come upstairs with me, and I’ll show you what I mean.”
Mrs. Dolman would have stepped aside, in the doorway, to allow him to precede her; but he waved her forward impatiently, and she went on ahead, and up the broad staircase, with her gown held up delicately in two mittened hands.
“Now,” thought Philip Crowdy, with a chuckle, “I shall know where I sleep.”
The old lady went before him, and softly opened the door of a room on the left hand—Crowdy taking careful note of its position. It was a beautifully furnished room, with huge old-fashioned presses in it, and with everything arranged with a view to comfort.
“There couldn’t be a better room, Master Dandy,” urged the old lady—“and you’ve slept in it as long almost as I can remember. There’s your dressing-room opening out of it, and your bath-room beyond that—nothing could be more convenient, Master Dandy. If you moved into the Yellow room, the outlook is pretty, it can’t be denied—but it ain’t to be compared to this. Of course, Master Dandy, you’ll do as you like—but I——”
Philip Crowdy had achieved his object. He looked round the room for a moment, and shrugged his shoulders. “No—after all, I think you’re right. It was only a whim of mine; I’ll stay here.”