“My mother,” stated Martin, ready for a skirmish, “has a particular fondness for that piece!”

“How very fortunate!” returned St. Erth. “Do draw your chair to this end of the table, Martin! and you too, Mr. Clowne! Abney, have the epergne conveyed to her ladyship’s sitting-room!”

Theo looked amused, but said under his breath: “Gervase, for God’s sake — !”

“You will not have that thing put into my mother’s room!” exclaimed Martin, a good deal startled.

“Don’t you think she would like to have it? If she has a particular fondness for it, I should not wish to deprive her of it.”

“She will wish it to be left where it has always stood, and so I tell you! And if I know Mama,” he added, with relish, “I’ll wager that’s what will happen!”

“Oh, I shouldn’t do that!” Gervase said. “You see, you don’t know me, and it is never wise to bet against a dark horse.”

“I suppose that you think, just because you’re St. Erth now, that you may turn Stanyon upside down, if you choose!” growled Martin, a little nonplussed.

“Well, yes,” replied Gervase. “I do think it, but you must not let it distress you, for I really shan’t quite do that!”

“We shall see what Mama has to say!” was all Martin could think of to retort.

The Dowager’s comments, when the fell tidings were presently divulged to her, were at once comprehensive and discursive, and culminated in an unwise announcement that Abney would take his orders from his mistress.

“Oh, I hope he will not!” said Gervase. “I should be very reluctant to dismiss a servant who has been for so many years employed in the family!” He smiled down into the Dowager’s astonished face, and added, in his gentle way: “But I have too great a dependence on your sense of propriety, ma’am, to suppose that you would issue any orders at Stanyon which ran counter to mine.”