Ay, he would be mixed up in it! He could not but be mixed up in it! His nephew! His nephew! He hung so heavily on Calamy’s arm, that the servant for once held his tongue in alarm. They went into the house—the house that until now dishonor had never touched, though hard times had often straitened it, and more than once in the generations poverty had menaced it. CHAPTER XXXVIII But before they crossed the threshold they were intercepted. Miss Peacock, her plumage ruffled, and that which the Squire was wont to call her “clack” working at high pressure, met them at the door. “Bless me, sir, here’s a visitor,” she proclaimed, “at this hour! And won’t take any denial, but will see you, whether or no. Though I told Jane to tell him——” “Who is it?” “Goodness knows, but it’s not my fault, sir! I told Jane—but Jane’s that feather-headed, like all of them, she never listens, and let him in, and he’s in the dining-parlor. All she could say, the silly wench, was, it was something about the bank—great goggle-eyes as she is! And of course there’s no one in the way when they’re wanted. Calamy with you, and Josina traipsing out, feeding her turkeys. And Jane says the man’s got a portmanteau with him as if he’s come to stay. Goodness knows, there’s no bed aired, and I’m sure I should have been told if——” “Peace, woman!” said the Squire. “Did he ask to see me, or——” with an effort, “my nephew?” “Oh, you, sir! Leastwise that’s what Jane said, but she’s no more head than a goose! To let him in when she knows that you’re hardly out of your bed, and can’t see every Jack Harry that comes!” “I’ll see him,” the Squire said heavily. He bade Calamy take him in. “But you’ll take your egg-flip, Mr. Griffin? Before you——” “Don’t clack, woman, don’t clack!” cried the Squire, and made a blow at her with his stick, but with no intention of reaching her. “Begone! Begone!” “But, dear sir, the doctor! You know he said” “D—n you, I’ll not take it! D’you hear? I’ll not take it! Get out!” And he went on through the house, the tap of his stick on the stone flags going before him and announcing his coming. Half-way along the passage he paused. “Did she say,” he asked, lowering his voice, “that he came from the bank?” “Ay, ay,” Calamy said. “And like enough. Ill news has many feet. Rides apace and needs no spurs. But if your honor will let me see him, I’ll sort him! I’ll sort him, I’ll warrant! One’d think,” grumbling, “they’d more sense than to come here about their dirty business as if we were the bank!” The man was surprised that his master took the matter with any patience, for, to him, with all the prejudices of the class he served, it seemed the height of impertinence to come to Garth about such business. “Let me see him, your honor, and ask what he wants,” he urged. But the Squire ruled otherwise. “No,” he said wearily, “I’ll see him.” And he went in.