‘I see you ’ave—have,’ said the footman, more like Mrs. Wilmington than ever. ‘Would you like to leave it? It’ll be a surprise for his Lordship when ’e comes in,’ and the footman tittered.
‘He is here, then,’ said Caroline. ‘I mean, he’s not in London?’
‘His Lordship is not in London,’ said the footman. ‘Any other questions? Always happy to say me catechism, ’m sheur.’
The children turned to go. They felt the need of a private consultation.
‘Any particular neem?’ said the footman, and tittered again. ‘’Slordship’ll be dying to know who it was called,’ and once more he tittered.
Charlotte turned suddenly and swiftly.
‘You need not trouble about our names,’ she said, ‘and I don’t believe Lord Andore knows how you behave when he’s not there. He doesn’t know yet, that is.’
‘No offence, Miss,’ said the footman very quickly.
‘We accept your apology,’ said Charlotte; ‘and we shall wait till Lord Andore comes in.’
‘But, I say! Look here, you know’—the footman came down one step in his earnestness—‘you can’t wait here, you know.’