The pretty, little, doll-like woman, with the cold eyes and the haughty stare, was at the front-door of the cottage, scattering food to the fowls.
'I have brought ye two or three hares, Mrs. Douglas, if they're of any use to ye,' Ronald said modestly.
'Thank you,' said she, with lofty courtesy, 'thank you; I am much obliged. Will you step in and sit down for a few minutes?—I am sure a little spirits will do you no harm on such a cold morning.'
In ordinary circumstances he would have declined that invitation; for he had no great love of this domineering little woman, and much preferred the society of her big, good-natured husband; but he was curious about Meenie, and even inclined to be resentful, if it appeared that she had been dealt with too harshly. So he followed Mrs. Douglas into the dignified little parlour—which was more like a museum of cheap curiosities than a room meant for actual human use; and forthwith she set on the crimson-dyed table-cover a glass, a tumbler, a jug of water, and a violet-coloured bulbous glass bottle with an electro-plated stopper. Ronald was bidden to help himself; and also, out of her munificence, she put before him a little basket of sweet biscuits.
'I hear the Doctor is away again,' Ronald said—and a hundred times would he rather not have touched the violet bottle at all, knowing that her clear, cold, blue eyes were calmly regarding his every movement.
'Yes,' she said, 'to Tongue. There is a consultation there. I am sure he has had very little peace and quiet lately.'
'I am glad he had a holiday yesterday,' Ronald said, with an endeavour to be agreeable.
But she answered severely—
'It might have been better if he had spent the first day of his getting back with his own family. But that has always been his way; everything sacrificed to the whim of the moment—to his own likings and dislikings.'
'He enjoys a day's sport as much as any man I ever saw,' said he—not knowing very well what to talk about.