‘It’s the same young lady,’ said Tom. ‘It’s quite right. Is she at home?’
‘I don’t know, I’m sure,’ rejoined the porter.
‘Do you think you could have the goodness to ascertain?’ said Tom. He had quite a delicacy in offering the suggestion, for the possibility of such a step did not appear to present itself to the porter’s mind at all.
The fact was that the porter in answering the gate-bell had, according to usage, rung the house-bell (for it is as well to do these things in the Baronial style while you are about it), and that there the functions of his office had ceased. Being hired to open and shut the gate, and not to explain himself to strangers, he left this little incident to be developed by the footman with the tags, who, at this juncture, called out from the door steps:
‘Hollo, there! wot are you up to? This way, young man!’
‘Oh!’ said Tom, hurrying towards him. ‘I didn’t observe that there was anybody else. Pray is Miss Pinch at home?’
‘She’s in,’ replied the footman. As much as to say to Tom: ‘But if you think she has anything to do with the proprietorship of this place you had better abandon that idea.’
‘I wish to see her, if you please,’ said Tom.
The footman, being a lively young man, happened to have his attention caught at that moment by the flight of a pigeon, in which he took so warm an interest that his gaze was rivetted on the bird until it was quite out of sight. He then invited Tom to come in, and showed him into a parlour.
‘Hany neem?’ said the young man, pausing languidly at the door.