"Now, Sophy," I said, after I had bidden Mrs. Middlemore good-by, "here are four sovereigns. Go to some wardrobe shop where you are not known, and buy a complete outfit of second-hand decent clothes, stockings, petticoats, boots, and everything you wear, and come to my rooms in them at half-past one. Be careful that you choose neat clothing, nothing showy or conspicuous; the way you are dressed the next time I see you will prove whether you understand what it is I wish you to do."
"You sha'n't find fault with me," said Sophy, with tears in her eyes. "I never thought I should 'ave sech a slice of luck as this."
At noon I was in my chambers, having arranged with the editor of the Evening Moon for another absence from duty. Bob Tucker was to come at one, and I employed the intervening minutes in setting things right in my rooms. I should have liked to go to Emilia for the purpose of showing her the picture I had found, and of receiving confirmation that it was a portrait of her husband, but I had not the time. The chimes of Westminster had just proclaimed the half-hour when I heard a knock at the outer door of my chambers. "Bob is early," I thought, and I went and opened the door. A stranger confronted me, a middle-aged man, with sandy hair and light fluffy whiskers, and of a rather ponderous build.
"I have come to see Mr. Agnold," said the stranger.
"He is busy," I replied, testily, "and cannot be seen." I did not know the man, and the business I had to transact was too important for interruption.
"I will wait," said the stranger, coolly.
"It will be useless waiting," I said. "Mr. Agnold cannot be seen to-day."
"I will wait till to-morrow," said the stranger, pulling his fluffy whiskers, and gazing at me with more than warrantable attention.
"Yes," I said, "call to-morrow, and unless your errand is urgent and personal do not call at all. Mr. Agnold's time is valuable."
I closed the door unceremoniously in his face and re-entered my sitting-room. My behavior is open to an unfavorable construction, I admit, but bachelors living in chambers in the houses roundabout are much annoyed by persons who intrude at all unseasonable hours, and who for the most part turn out to be commercial travellers desirous to show you samples of goods you do not want. But there was another reason in this particular instance for my unceremonious treatment of the uninvited visitor. All the time he was speaking to me I was conscious that he was observing me in a manner which I resented. There was an intentional rudeness in his pertinacious scrutiny which aroused in me a certain anger, which, reasonably or unreasonably, was a guide in my conduct toward him.