The latter took no heed of the uproar; but simply saying over his shoulder, “Remember; it is to be done as I say,”--turned coolly and descended the flight. But the noise of the girl’s screaming pursued him far into the house. It was an hour later when Dennis begged leave to speak with him as he sat awaiting his dinner. The caretaker was palpably in a state of semi-prostration. His face was white and his hands shook. It was, perhaps, not to be expected that a man of Sir Robert’s calibre should be prepossessed by an exhibition of nervousness so pitiful. “Well?” he said, the contempt in his heart finding some expression in his voice. “I wanted to ask you, sir--to beg you not to hold me responsible for this--this scene. The girl has ever been a wayward unaccountable body.” “I will not be troubled with her. If she is to stop--and God knows why she should--she must learn to keep her place and to do what service she can.” “I know, sir. I never guessed--she must learn to appreciate your goodness. We are quite homeless but for your bounty.” “I don’t wish to be harsh; but you must see, my good fellow, that her way of looking at things is not that of a servant towards her master. No doubt these twenty-odd years of caretaking have led her to assume a sort of semi-proprietary attitude towards the estate. I grant her that excuse; and see, of course, that you are very much bound up in her.” “Oh! I am, sir.” “That is commendable,” said the baronet dryly. “Only--you understand?” “I understand fully, sir. She shall not annoy you again. I have made away with--with the things, as you ordered.” “And the skull is gone?” “It is--yes, it is gone.” Was there a shifting devil in the fellow’s eyes? His master looked at him keenly. Everything about the man--his humility, his gentle voice, his poor physique, and more beggarly resignation to a life of long inaction--told against him with the robuster individuality. And, after all, were these qualities in a measure assumed? So much of doubt and mystery had entered into the baronet’s days of late, as to give birth in him to a gloom and suspicion that were hitherto foreign to his nature. He foresaw himself, with dark apprehension, the lord of a bugbear estate--beset with a thousand trials and difficulties--cut off from the world of his custom, and ever sinking into deeper sloughs of melancholy and despondence. He roused himself with an effort. That very afternoon, he inwardly determined, he would ride into Winchester--where was to be found his agent, to whom Creel had entrusted the moneys standing to his credit--and satisfy himself as to his prospective position as a man of more or less substance. Then, if all figured out well, he could arrange for the purchase of furniture and hire of servants proportionate to his means.