"Yes, sir," she gasped, and abandoning her hiding-place, she hurried off across the hall.
Billy took a deep breath. "I call this living," he remarked contentedly. "Fancy Milford turning up like that!"
"If ever a man had the dramatic instinct," I said, "Milford has."
The words had hardly passed when the door at the back of the hall opened and my incomparable retainer stood before us.
He looked all round, and then bowed gravely. "May I be permitted to welcome you back, sir? I regret I was not here to receive you."
I stepped forward, and held out my hand. "Milford," I said, "I'm not much good at thanking people, but"—then I paused—"well, I'm very grateful," I finished heartily.
He accepted my hand with a kind of apologetic movement. "Not at all, sir. Only too glad to have been of any assistance. May I say how pleased I am to learn that Mr. Northcote has made you his heir? I presume, sir, that explains Mr. Furnivall's—" He waved a significant hand towards the street.
"That," I said, "and a kick behind."
Milford nodded gravely.
"A bad lot, sir—a very bad lot. I always warned Mr. Northcote against him."