Presently he saw, slowly ascending the carriage drive, one of the railway station vehicles, and seated within a man of painfully respectable appearance, wearing a tall silk hat.
Stranleigh murmured an exclamation, for uttering which, according to the public Press, a delinquent had been fined one pound a few days before. It was therefore to his financial advantage that there were no listeners. He lay down once more, resolved to refuse audience if any of his servants discovered him, and order that the visitor be turned over to the new bailiff who had taken Wilson's place. He was just dropping into a doze again when one of his men aroused him.
"My lord: Mr. Peter Mackeller wishes to know if you will receive him."
"H'm! Did anyone inform Mr. Peter Mackeller I was at home?"
"He seemed to know your lordship was in residence."
"Hang it all, I'm not in residence; I'm in flannels." He sighed deeply. "Bring Mr. Mackeller here."
As Peter approached, Stranleigh sat up and looked at him. The visitor's conductor disappeared down the hill, leaving the two young men together.
