Pacified by this assurance, he gave her ample directions; and, hurrying on her hat and mantle, she trod the way to the Albany once more. She would not think of herself or of the annoyance she underwent on the former occasion, but passed steadily on, intent only upon getting such an explanation from the lieutenant as should set the vexed question of the money at rest forever.
“He will palter with me, perhaps,” she said to herself, “or try to put me off with vague promises, as he has done poor papa; but I must be quietly firm, and refuse to be satisfied with anything but the plain facts of the case. Papa said I was not persevering enough before. He shall not have to say this again. For his sake I will be wary, and obstinate even to rudeness.”
Her courage rose with the occasion, and when her tap at the outer door of the chambers was answered with a careless “Come in,” she stepped forward resolutely.
The servant of Lieutenant Mason was sitting at the table, looking over some accounts. He stared at her insolently, but neither rose nor offered her a seat.
“Your master has not fulfilled his promise of visiting or writing to us,” said Florence. “I will thank you to tell him that I am here. I will not detain him long, but my business is too urgent to be delayed again.”
The man dipped his pen in the ink, and answered, with an impertinent sneer:
“Dear me! Ladies are always in such a hurry that everything must serve their turn. But unfortunately, miss, you’ll have to wait, whether you like it or no, for master’s not in.”
“Then I will wait till he returns,” she said firmly.
A sinister smile passed over his face.
“Well, really, miss, it won’t be worth your while, for I heard him say as he went that he should contrive to make Brompton in his round. He’s more than one person waiting there to see him—some near neighbors of yours, for instance.”