"You know how to write, of course?"
He made one of his shuffling bows, and began to brush his hat with the sleeve of his coat.
"You need not wait; we will talk about the wages to-morrow," said Leicester. "Meantime if you can gather any more information about—about the lady, you know it would be a praiseworthy introduction to your new duties."
Jacob bowed again and edged himself toward the door. "I will do my best, you may be sartain. What time o' day shall I come to-morrow?"
"At ten or two, it does not signify. If I am not in, wait!"
"I will!" muttered Jacob, when he found himself alone. "It is something to have learned how to wait, as you shall find, my new master—master!" and Jacob laughed.
CHAPTER XII. STRIFE FOR AN EARL.
Thistledown—Thistledown!—join the pursuit;
While fashion flies onward, let wisdom be mute.