The woman looked a little surprised, or it might be alarmed, but did as she was requested.
Mr. Wrench closed the door of the room, and then took a seat himself. As a preliminary, he insisted upon his companion taking a glass of something short. This done, he proceeded to business.
“I cannot find the person of whom I am in search,” said he. “Will you just answer one or two questions. Mind you, I will make it worth your while. I don’t expect anybody to work for nothing.”
“In course not, sir. You’re a different sort of gentleman to that.”
“Well, you see, Mrs. Mumms, it has occurred to me that probably the party to whom I allude is passing under a different name.”
“Likely enough, sir; but I hope as how he aint bin doing anything wrong.”
“Oh, dear me, no such thing. But, now, tell me—there is a gentleman living at the house owned by Miss Stanbridge, or has been, eh?”
“She’s always had a relation—a cousin or nephew I believe he is—living with her. She brought him up from a mere lad, so I’ve been told, but he aint there so much as he used to be, and of late I’ve not seen much of him.”
“Ah! a relation, eh?”
“Yes; so I believe, but he’s not the party you are in search of. He’s been there for years.”