"I suppose Lady Winsleigh is at home, Briggs?" inquired Mrs. Marvelle, with the air of one familiar with the ways of the household.
"Yes'm," replied Briggs slowly, taking in the "style" of Mrs. Rush-Marvelle's bonnet, and mentally calculating its cost. "Her ladyship is in the boo-dwar."
"I'll go there," said Mrs. Marvelle, stepping into the hall, and beginning to walk across it, in her own important and self-assertive manner. "You needn't announce me."
Briggs closed the street-door, settled his powdered wig, and looked after her meditatively. Then he shut up one eye in a sufficiently laborious manner and grinned. After this he retired slowly to a small ante-room, where he found the World with its leaves uncut. Taking up his master's ivory paper-knife, he proceeded to remedy this slight inconvenience,--and, yawning heavily, he seated himself in a velvet arm-chair, and was soon absorbed in perusing the pages of the journal in question.
Meanwhile Mrs. Marvelle, in her way across the great hall to the "boo-dwar," had been interrupted and nearly knocked down by the playful embrace of a handsome boy, who sprang out upon her suddenly with a shout of laughter,--a boy of about twelve years old, with frank, bright blue eyes and clustering dark curls.
"Hullo, Mimsey!" cried this young gentleman-"here you are again! Do you want to see papa? Papa's in there!"--pointing to the door from which he had emerged--"he's correcting my Latin exercise. Five good marks to-day, and I'm going to the circus this afternoon! Isn't it jolly?"
"Dear me, Ernest!" exclaimed Mrs. Marvelle half crossly, yet with an indulgent smile,--"I wish you would not be so boisterous! You've nearly knocked my bonnet off."
"No, I haven't," laughed Ernest; "it's as straight as--wait a bit!" And waving a lead pencil in the air, he drew an imaginary stroke with it. "The middle feather is bobbing up and down just on a line with your nose--it couldn't be better!"
"There, go along, you silly boy!" said Mrs. Marvelle, amused in spite of herself. "Get back to your lessons. There'll be no circus for you if you don't behave properly! I'm going to see your mother."
"Mamma's reading," announced Ernest. "Mudie's cart has just been and brought a lot of new novels. Mamma wants to finish them all before night. I say, are you going to stop to lunch?"
"Ernest, why are you making such a noise in the passage?" said a gentle, grave voice at this juncture. "I am waiting for you, you know. You haven't finished your work yet. Ah, Mrs. Marvelle! How do you do?"