And, as Maggie expected, Sally ran past the glass houses and the pear and apple trees, for there was at the end of the vegetable garden a door in the brick wall that enclosed the manor house. It was used by the gardeners, and it communicated with a path leading through some corn and grass land to the high road. There were five acres of land attached to the manor house, tennis lawn, shady walks, flower garden, kitchen garden, stables, and coach house at the back, and all this spoke in somewhat glaring fashion the wealth and ease of a rich city merchant. “There she goes,” thought Maggie, flaunting her head. “What a fool she is to bully father instead of humouring him. We shall never hear the end of this. His dinner put back so that she may continue her flirtation with Meason! I shall have to tell the truth. Why should I tell a lie?” “Please, miss,” said the butler as Maggie passed through the baize door, “I think it right to tell you about cook. We find it very hard to put up with her in the servants' hall. She is a very violent-tempered woman; nor can I say much for her in other respects. Last week she sold twenty pounds of dripping, and it wasn't all dripping, miss, it was for the most part butter.” “John, I really can't listen to any more stories about cook. Has the quarter-to-seven come in yet?” “I haven't seen it pass, miss, but I saw Mr. Willy coming up the drive a minute ago.” Willy entered, and she turned to him and said: “Where have you been to, Willy?” “Brighton. Has father come in yet?” “No. You came by the tramcar?” “Yes.” With shoulders set well back and toes turned out, Willy came along the passage. His manner was full of deliberation, and he carried a small brown paper parcel under his arm as if it were a sword of state. Maggie followed him up the steep and vulgarly carpeted staircase that branched into the various passages forming the upper part of the house. Willy's room was precise and grave, and there everything was held under lock and key. He put the brown paper parcel on the table; he took off his coat and laid it on the bed, heaving, at the same time, a sigh. “Did you notice if the quarter-to-seven has been signalled?” “Yes, but don't keep on worrying; the train is coming along the embankment.” “Then there will be a row to-night.” “Why?” “Sally told cook to keep the dinner back; she has gone down the slonk to speak to Meason.” “Why didn't you tell cook that she must take her orders from you and no one else?” “So I did, but Sally said I was no more mistress here than she was. I said Grace had given me charge of the house, when she could not attend to it; but Sally will listen to no one, she'll drive father out of his mind. There's no one he hates like the Measons.” “What is the matter with Grace? Where is she?”