THE BEST SOCIETY Leaving the cottage for the second time, I was met at the door by a fat man of solemn appearance dressed in black, who respectfully touched his hat.

My angry humor acknowledged the harmless stranger's salute by a rude inquiry: "What the devil do you want ?" Instead of resenting this uncivil language, he indirectly reproved me by becoming more respectful than ever.
"My mistress desires me to tell you, sir, that luncheon is waiting." I was in the presence of a thoroughbred English servant--and I had failed to discover it until he spoke of his mistress! I had also, by keeping luncheon waiting, treated an English institution with contempt.

And, worse even than this, as a misfortune which personally affected me, my stepmother evidently knew that I had paid another visit to the mill.
I hurried along the woodland path, followed by the fat domestic in black.
Not used apparently to force his legs into rapid motion, he articulated with the greatest difficulty in answering my next question: "How did you know where to find me ?" "Mrs.Roylake ordered inquiries to be made, sir.

The head gardener--" There his small reserves of breath failed him.
"The head gardener saw me ?" "Yes, sir." "When ?" "Hours ago, sir--when you went into Toller's cottage." I troubled my fat friend with no more questions.
Returning to the house, and making polite apologies, I discovered one more among Mrs.Roylake's many accomplishments.

She possessed two smiles--a sugary smile (with which I was already acquainted), and an acid smile which she apparently reserved for special occasions.