At double-knock, came hobbling the charwoman, loath to be disturbed at her twilight pipe, but brisking at sight of Lady Peggy’s now uncovered face and shilling between fingers.
“Yes, indeed, here His Lordship lodged and ate; was His Lordship at ’ome? Nay, that was he not! but surely might be before cock-crow to-morrow! His Lordship’s sister! Lawk! Would Her Ladyship and Her Ladyship’s woman condescend to come in and mount? What a beautiful surprise for ’is young Lordship when he did get ’ome to be sure! No, he ’adn’t gone out alone, a gay spark, a gentleman of the first quality ’ad come, as often ’e did, and fetched h’off His Lordship with ’im, last night; ’is name? Was it Sir Robin McTart peradventure? No, no, that was a name she ’ad never ’eard! ’Twas no Duke nor Earl neither, but a—Sir, Sir—?”
And as the old woman and Chockey, carrying the calf-skin box between them, reached the last landing and set their burden down in thankfulness, Lady Peggy, feeling the way, said:
“Sir Percy de Bohun, perchance? Methinks my brother has a companion by some such title!”
“Aye, that’s ’im! Ah, My Lady, as splendid a gentleman as ever sang ‘God save the King!’ free with ’is sovereigns, My Lady, as trees is with their nuts; and, to match ’im for oaths! there’s not that Prince o’ the blood as can swear so beautiful when ’e’s dead drunk. These is ‘is Lordship’s your brother’s chambers, My Lady!” throwing open the door and ushering Peggy and her servitor into as dingy, dirty, empty, sad, bare, and unkempt an appearing place as ever mortal and intrepid lady set two tired feet within.
But Lady Peggy, for the nonce, was only eager on one point.
“Drunk, say you, dame? and wherefore should so generous a young gentleman be a-gallopin‘ that silly road, eh?”
“Lawk! Your Ladyship! ‘ow should I know? but His Lordship’s own gentleman, My Lady, what ‘olds ‘im up and steadies His Lordship in ‘is cups, do say”—the old charwoman, whisking the dust of ages from a wooden chair, sets it for Lady Peggy and bends to tidy the hearth and gather together the few shingles and faggots strewn about.
“‘Say’ what?” urges Peggy, with eager eyes and a sixpence shining in her hand (another shilling’s more than she dare hazard of her slender store).
“Do say, My Lady,—God bless Your Ladyship’s sweet face! as it’s h’all on account of a young lady!”