marking the demeanour of the culprit

It was some time ere Roland Graeme appeared. The messenger (his old friend Lilias) had at first attempted to open the door of his little apartment with the charitable purpose, doubtless, of enjoying the confusion, and marking the demeanour of the culprit. But an oblong bit of iron, ycleped a bolt, was passed across the door on the inside, and prevented her benign intentions. Lilias knocked and called at intervals. Roland — Roland Graeme — Master Roland Graeme (an emphasis on the word Master,) will you be pleased to undo the door?— What ails you?— are you at your prayers in private, to complete the devotion which you left unfinished in public?— Surely we must have a screened seat for you in the chapel, that your gentility may be free from the eyes of common folks! Still no whisper was heard in reply. Well, master Roland, said the waiting-maid, I must tell my mistress, that if she would have an answer, she must either come herself, or send those on errand to you who can beat the door down.
What says your Lady? answered the page from within.
Marry, open the door, and you shall hear, answered the waiting-maid. I trow it becomes my Lady’s message to be listened to face to face; and I will not for your idle pleasure, whistle it through a key-hole.
Your mistress’s name, said the page, opening the door, is too fair a cover for your impertinence — What says my Lady?
That you will be pleased to come to her directly, in the withdrawing-room, answered Lilias. I presume she has some directions for you concerning the forms to be observed in leaving chapel in future.
Say to my Lady, that I will directly wait on her, answered the page; and returning into his apartment, he once more locked the door in the face of the waiting-maid.
Rare courtesy! muttered Lilias; and, returning to her mistress, acquainted her that Roland Graeme would wait on her when it suited his convenience.
What, is that his addition, or your own phrase, Lilias? said the Lady, coolly.
Nay, madam, replied the attendant, not directly answering the question, he looked as if he could have said much more impertinent things than that, if I had been willing to hear them.— But here he comes to answer for himself.
Roland Graeme entered the apartment with a loftier mien, and somewhat a higher colour than his wont; there was embarrassment in his manner, but it was neither that of fear nor of penitence.
Young man, said the Lady, what trow you I am to think of your conduct this day?
If it has offended you, madam, I am deeply grieved, replied the youth.
To have offended me alone, replied the Lady, were but little — You have been guilty of conduct which will highly offend your master — of violence to your fellow-servants, and of disrespect to God himself, in the person of his ambassador.