"So far, so good," resumed Mr. Greenwood. "Sir Rupert Harborough will call this morning: you will tell him I am not at home."
"Yes, sir."
"Lady Cecilia Harborough will call at one precisely: you will conduct her to the drawing-room."
"Yes, sir."
"And all the time she is here I shall not be at home to a soul."
"No, sir."
"At four o'clock I shall go out in the cab: you can then pay a visit to Upper Clapton and ascertain by any indirect means you can light upon, whether Miss Sydney still inhabits the villa, and whether she still pursues the same retired and secluded mode of existence as when you last made inquiries in that quarter."
"Yes, sir."
"And you can ride round by Holloway and find out—also by indirect inquiries, remember—whether Mr. Markham is at home, and any other particulars relative to him which you can glean. I have already told you that I have the deepest interest in being acquainted with all that that young man does—his minutest actions even."
"I will attend to your orders, sir."