“How late you are! Hallo!”
Chester had been in the act of stepping in, but paused on the threshold, completely taken aback at finding a gentleman in the box, while the speaker, who had not risen, but leaned back, balancing himself on two legs of his chair, fell over side-wise in his astonishment, but saved himself by catching at the partition.
He sprang up the next moment, as Chester recovered himself and advanced, but neither of the three ladies, who had turned, made the slightest movement towards acknowledging him, and left it to their companion to speak.
“May I ask whom you wish to see, sir?”
“Certainly,” replied Chester, quietly, “Mrs James, Mrs Dennis, Miss Clareborough—”
No one moved. He might have been addressing so many statues, as he went on—
“And Mr Dennis Clareborough.”
“You seem to have our names right, sir,” said the stalwart young fellow, shortly, “but I have not the pleasure of knowing you.”
“Indeed!” said Chester. “Is your memory so short, sir? May I ask after your cousin’s wound?”
“Certainly, if you like, sir,” replied the young man, with a little laugh, “but I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”