"Not at all; I shall be very happy—" he paused too, not knowing how to fill up the blank, and waited quietly, while Marian sought frantically in her little bag for a paper which was, of course, at the very bottom. "It is only," she began again—"only to ask you about the character of a chambermaid named Drusilla—yes, Drusilla Elms. I think it must be you she refers to; at least I copied the address from the reference she showed me; here it is," handing him the slip of paper; and as he took out his eyeglass to study it, "only I couldn't tell—I didn't know—whether it was Mr., or Mrs., or what it was before the name, I am very sorry."
"So am I. It has been the great misfortune of my life, I assure you, that I write such a confounded—such an execrable hand. Pray accept my apologies for it."
"Oh, it was not a bad hand!—not at all! It was my own stupidity! I suppose you really did give her the character, then?"
"In spite of your politeness, I am afraid I too plainly recognise the bewildering effect of my own scrawl. I think I must have given her the reference, though I don't remember doing so."
"The name is so peculiar——"
"Yes; but the fact is that our old Catherine, who has been cook here for a longer time than I can reckon, generally engages our other maid for us, and she dislikes to change the name, and calls them all Margaret. I think we had a very nice Margaret two years ago, but I will go and ask Catherine; she may recollect."
"Oh, don't trouble yourself! I have no doubt that you are quite right—none at all!"
"But I have so many doubts, I should like to be a little surer; and if you will excuse me for a moment—well! What, in the devil's name, are you up to now?"
It must be explained that by this time he had reached the further door, and that the sudden close of his speech was addressed, not to Marian, but to some invisible person, or rather persons; for the subdued laughter which responded, the very equivalent to a girlish giggle, surely came from more than one pair of boyish lungs. Some stifled speech, too, was heard, to which the master of the house replied, "Go to ——, then, and be quick about it!" as he closed the door behind him, leaving Marian trembling with apprehension lest he might be mad or drunk. And yet if this were swearing, and she feared it was, there was something gratifying in the sound of a good, round, mouth-filling oath, especially when contrasted with the extreme and punctilious deference of his speech to her. He came back in a moment, and, standing before her with head inclined, said, as if apologising for some misdeed of his own:
"I am very sorry, but Catherine is out, doing her marketing. She will probably return soon, if you do not mind waiting."