“Very good; I’ll come.”
As soon as the machine had withdrawn to its subterranean abode, Captain Mauleverer asked, in the tone of a man who really desires information:
“Who on earth is that man?”
Victoria looked blandly surprised.
“Mr. Despencer, do you mean? I haven’t the slightest idea.”
It was the captain’s turn to look surprised.
“Why, I thought he was constantly in the house.”
Victoria lifted her shoulders with fine disgust.
“Yes, but I don’t know him. He is not anybody, you know. I call him the Ladies’ Journal. He is not received; he circulates. My mother takes him in, but I don’t.”
“Is he one of those writing chaps?” inquired the captain, with military contempt.