He started and drew back as a figure appeared before the house.
“Who’s that?” he asked, and she felt a hand on her arm that trembled.
“That is my father, Mr. Maitland,” she said. “I expect he got a little nervous about my being out.”
“Your father, eh?” He was more relieved than resentful. “Mr. John Bennett, his name is, by all accounts. Don’t tell him I’ve been in the workhouse,” he urged, “or in quod. And I have been in quod, miss. Met all the big men, every one of ’um. And met a few of ’um out, too. I bet I’m the only man in this country that’s ever seen Saul Morris, the grandest feller in the business. Only met him once, but I shall never forget him.”
John Bennett saw them pacing toward him, and stood undecided as to whether he should join them or whether Ella would be embarrassed by such a move. Maitland decided the matter by hobbling over to him.
“Morning, mister,” he said. “Just having a talk to your gel. Rather early in the morning, eh? Hope you don’t mind, Mr. Bennett.”
“I don’t mind,” said John Bennett. “Won’t you come inside, Mr. Maitland?”
“No, no, no,” said the other fearfully. “I’ve got to get on. Matilda will be waiting for me. Don’t forget, miss: come up to my office and have that joke!”
He did not offer to shake hands, nor did he take off his hat. In fact, his manners were deplorable. A curt nod to the girl, and then:
“Well, so long, mister——” he began, and at that moment John Bennett moved out from the shadow of the house.