He at first had told himself that he was a fool not to be able to ignore her existence as hitherto, and then that he was a greater fool not to take advantage of his position.

Certainly he had not the remotest idea of any affection, but Hilma was a fine looking girl.
He imagined an affair with her.
As he reflected upon the matter now, scowling abstractedly at the button of the electric bell, turning the whole business over in his mind, he remembered that to-day was butter-making day and that Mrs.Tree would be occupied in the dairy.

That meant that Hilma would take her place.

He turned to the mirror of the sideboard, scrutinising his reflection with grim disfavour.

After a moment, rubbing the roughened surface of his chin the wrong way, he muttered to his image in the glass: "That a mug! Good Lord! what a looking mug!" Then, after a moment's silence, "Wonder if that fool feemale will be up here to-day." He crossed over into his bedroom and peeped around the edge of the lowered curtain.