"You're an old man, and I don't want to be too hard on you. I'm only showing you that you can't play fast and loose as if you were God Almighty any longer. You've had your own way too many years. And now you can't have it, see!" Then, as the old man again moved forward in his chair, he added: "Now, don't get into a passion again; calm yourself, because I warn you--this is your last chance. I'm a man of my word; and what I say, I do."
By a violent and unsuspected effort the old man jerked himself up and reached the bell. Mr. Ventnor heard it ring, and said sharply:
"Mind you, it's nothing to me which you do. I came for your own good. Please yourself. Well?"
He was answered by the click of the door and the old man's husky voice:
"Show this hound out! And then come back!"
Mr. Ventnor had presence of mind enough not to shake his fist. Muttering: "Very well, Mr. Heythorp! Ah! Very well!" he moved with dignity to the door. The careful shepherding of the servant renewed the fire of his anger. Hound! He had been called a hound
After seeing Mr. Ventnor off the premises the man Meller returned to his master, whose face looked very odd--"all patchy-like," as he put it in the servants' hall, as though the blood driven to his head had mottled for good the snowy whiteness of the forehead. He received the unexpected order:
"Get me a hot bath ready, and put some pine stuff in it."