"Why," answered the Keeper, with some hesitation, "the room was fitted up in our absence—and cedant arma togæ, is the maxim of lawyers you know—I am afraid it has been here somewhat too literally complied with. I hope—I believe they are safe—I am sure I gave orders—may I hope that when they are recovered and put in proper order, you will do me the honour to accept them at my hand, as an atonement for their accidental derangement?"
The Master of Ravenswood bowed stifly, and, with folded arms, again resumed his survey of the room.
Henry, a spoilt boy of fifteen, burst into the room, and ran up to his father. "Think of Lucy, papa; she has come home so cross and so fractious, that she will not go down to the stable to see my new poney, that Bob Wilson brought from the Mull of Galloway."
"I think you were very unreasonable to ask her," said the Keeper.
