“I’m next, Mr. Earles,” she exclaimed. “Been sitting on the doorstep almost for two hours.”
“In a minute, in a minute,” he answered, his eyes fixed upon Anna. “Reuben, come here.”
The young man obeyed the summons. His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar.
“What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” Mr. Earles asked sharply.
The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. A sense of impending disaster was upon him. Mr. Earles glanced at it, and his eyes flashed with anger.
“You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed.
Mr. Earles strode into the waiting-room. His face was wreathed in smiles, his be-ringed hand was cordially outstretched.
“My dear Miss Pellissier,” he said impressively, “this is an unexpected pleasure. Come in! Come in, do. I must apologize for my young puppy of a clerk. If I had known that you were here you should not have been kept waiting for a second.”
It took a good deal to surprise Anna, but it was all she could do to follow Mr. Earles with composure into the inner room. There was a little murmur of consternation from the waiting crowd, and the florid young woman showed signs of temper, to which Mr. Earles was absolutely indifferent. He installed Anna in a comfortable easy chair, and placed his own between her and the door.
“Come,” he said, “this is capital, capital. It was only a few months ago that I told you you must come to London, and you only laughed at me. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. By-the-bye,” he added, in a suddenly altered tone, “I hope, I trust—that you have not entered into any arrangements with any one here?”