"Yes, sir, and said you would know it. Mr. Parkinson--a stone-mason, he said he was."
"Parkinson--Parkinson! I do not know the man, and I have not been engaged in building. More in your way, Mr. Manners."
His guest nodded, but made no remark; there was nothing in the incident to interest him.
"He has been here several times this week, sir," said the servant.
"I remember now hearing of it, and I left instructions that he was to put his business with me in writing."
"He paid no attention to that, sir, but kept on calling."
"Well, we must get rid of him somehow. A stone-mason, eh? Parkinson--the very name for a stone-mason. My boy Dick carried his election on the working-man's interests. A popular cry; we are becoming very radical. Show Mr. Parkinson up. You have no objection, Mr. Manners?"
"None at all."
The servant retired, and returned, ushering in Mr. Parkinson. Mr. Hollingworth cast a keen glance at his visitor, and saw that he was to all appearance a respectable working-man.
"You wish to see me?"