Good plucked
one, though!"
The report that Courtier was harboured beneath their roof went the round
of the family before breakfast, through the agency of one whose practice
it was to know all things, and to see that others partook of that
knowledge, Little Ann, paying her customary morning visit to her
mother's room, took her stand with face turned up and hands clasping her
belt, and began at once.
"Uncle Eustace brought a man last night with a wounded leg, and Uncle
Bertie pulled it out straight. William says that Charles says he only
made a noise like this"--there was a faint sound of small chumping
teeth: "And he's the man that's staying at the Inn, and the stairs were
too narrow to carry him up, William says; and if his knee was put out
he won't be able to walk without a stick for a long time. Can I go to
Father?"
Agatha, who was having her hair brushed, thought:
"I'm not sure whether belts so low as that are wholesome," murmured:
"Wait a minute!"
But little Ann was gone; and her voice could be heard in the
dressing-room climbing up towards Sir William, who from the sound of his
replies, was manifestly shaving. When Agatha, who never could resist
a legitimate opportunity of approaching her husband, looked in, he was
alone, and rather thoughtful--a tall man with a solid, steady face and
cautious eyes, not in truth remarkable except to his own wife.
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