“I see you do!” she said.
“Well, yes, my lady. You see, I get about a good deal,” he added, apologetically, “and anybody who is accustomed to seeing much of the upper ten, knows Lady Grace Peyton.”
She looked round as he spoke her name, and bit her lip.
“Yes, I am Lady Grace Peyton,” she said; “and I have come to see Lord Cecil Neville because he is in trouble. I am a very great friend of his.”
The man nodded appreciatively. He took her words as meaning that she was engaged to Lord Cecil.
“He is in great trouble, is he not?”
“Well, yes, he is,” he replied. “That is, he is in just a bit of a hole at present! It’s not much of a hole, but he seems as if he couldn’t get out of it.”
“You have arrested him for debt, have you not?”
“Well, yes I have,” he admitted, almost reluctantly. “I suppose he has told you, and it’s no use my denying it, my lady, especially if—begging your pardon for the liberty—you are going to help him; and I suppose you are?”
“Yes,” she said, quietly. “What is the amount?”