“And where may she be at this moment?”
“In her father's house.”
The man stood twirling his moustache and showing the white teeth under it. Then he stuck in his mouth a meerschaum he had in his hand, and sucked silently at the pipe for some moments. “I beg your pardon once more; but I fear we are at cross-purposes,” said he presently. He had been considering.
“I don't think it,” said Missy.
“And why not?” This with a smile.
“Because I have a message for you, Mr. Stan-borough.”
“Ha!”
“A message from Arabella Teesdale,” said Missy, who had lowered her tone and drawn the other a pace nearer in his eagerness.
“And?” he asked; but he was made to wait. “Will you have the goodness to give me that message? Tell me what she says, can't you?”
“Oh, certainly!” replied Missy, with a laugh. “I was to say that she had been very foolish, but has come to her senses in time; and that you will never see her any more, as she has thought better of it, and is done with you for good and all!”