He was, in his own grumpy fashion, sincerely attached to his master, and he never presumed to criticize his doings.

He only wondered at them.
As for Master Piers, he had been an unmitigated nuisance to him personally ever since he had learned to walk alone.

Marshall had always disapproved of him, and he hated Victor, the French valet, who had brought him up from his cradle.

Yet deep in his surly old heart there lurked a certain grudging affection for him notwithstanding.

The boy had a winning way with him, and but for his hatred of Victor, who was soft and womanish, but extremely tenacious, Marshall would have liked to have had a hand in his upbringing.