“Certainly, madam. I'll tell him at once,” was the reply.
Determined to enter the place, Lady Bassett requested her people to open the carriage door, and she was in the act of getting out when Mr. Coyne appeared, a little oily, bustling man, with a good-humored, vulgar face, liable to a subservient pucker; he wore it directly at sight of a fine woman, fine clothes, fine footmen, and fine horses.
“Mr. Coyne, I believe,” said Lady Bassett, with a fascinating smile.
“At your service, madam.”
“May I have a word in private with you, sir?”
“Certainly, madam.”
“We have come a long way. May the horses be fed?”
“I am afraid,” said the little man, apologetically, “I must ask you to send them to the inn. It is close by.”
“By all means.” (To one of the outriders:) “You will wait here for orders.”
Mary Wells had been already instructed to wait in the hall and look out sharp for Sir Charles's keeper and nurse, and tell them her ladyship wanted to speak to them privately, and it would be money in their way.