“Why, ma'am, by the luckiest accident in the world! Just as I was riding into town, I met the returned chaise that brought you; and I knew the postilion very well, as I go that road pretty often; so, by the merest chance in the world, I saw him by the light of the moon. And then he told me where he had set you down.”
“And pray, Sir,” again asked Mrs Charlton, “what was your reason for making the enquiry?”
“Why, ma'am, I had a little favour to ask of Miss Beverley, that made me think I would take the liberty to call.”
“And was this time of night, Sir,” she returned, “the only one you could chase for that purpose?”
“Why, ma'am, I'll tell you how that was; I did not mean to have called till to-morrow morning; but as I was willing to know if the postilion had given me a right direction, I knocked one soft little knock at the door, thinking you might be gone to bed after your journey, merely to ask if it was the right house; but when the servant told me there was a gentleman with you already, I thought there would be no harm in just stepping for a moment up stairs.”
“And what, Sir,” said Cecilia, whom mingled shame and vexation had hitherto kept silent, “is your business with me?”
“Why, ma'am, I only just called to give you a direction to a most excellent dog-doctor, as we call him, that lives at the corner of—”
“A dog-doctor, Sir?” repeated Cecilia, “and what have I to do with any such direction?”
“Why you must know, ma'am, I have been in the greatest concern imaginable about that accident which happened to me with the poor little dog, and so—”
“What little dog, Sir?” cried Delvile, who now began to conclude he was not sober, “do you know what you are talking of?”