"You may come back for me at nine
o'clock."
Having taken his hand from his servant's arm, he advanced to meet a lady
who stood in the door awaiting him, a tall, elderly woman, gaunt and
angular of frame, with a mottled face, and high cheekbones partially
covered by bands of hair entirely too black and abundant for a person of
her age, if one might judge from the lines of her mouth, which are
rarely deceptive in such matters.
"Perhaps you'd better not send your man away, Mr. Delamere," observed
the lady, in a high shrill voice, which grated upon the old gentleman's
ears. He was slightly hard of hearing, but, like most deaf people,
resented being screamed at. "You might need him before nine o'clock. One
never knows what may happen after one has had the second stroke. And
moreover, our butler has fallen down the back steps--negroes are so
careless!--and sprained his ankle so that he can't stand. I'd like to
have Sandy stay and wait on the table in Peter's place, if you don't
mind."
"I thank you, Mrs. Ochiltree, for your solicitude," replied Mr.
Delamere, with a shade of annoyance in his voice, "but my health is very
good just at present, and I do not anticipate any catastrophe which will
require my servant's presence before I am ready to go home. But I have
no doubt, madam," he continued, with a courteous inclination, "that
Sandy will be pleased to serve you, if you desire it, to the best of his
poor knowledge."
"I shill be honored, ma'am," assented Sandy, with a bow even deeper than
his master's, "only I'm 'feared I ain't rightly dressed fer ter wait on
table.
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