"Miss Clemency, mam; yes, m'lud. She's been good ter me, Miss Clemency, mam 'as—an' so when I seen 'im strugglin' an' a-tryin' to kiss 'er—when I 'eered 'er cry out—I came in froo de winder, an' I kicked 'im, I did, an' then—"
"Imp," said the Viscount gravely, "you are forgetting your aitches! And so Sir Mortimer's friend kissed her, did he? Mind your aitches now!"
"Yes, m' lud; an' when Hi seen the tears hin her eyes—"
"Now you are mixing them, Imp!—tears in her eyes. Well?"
"Why then I kicked him, m' lud, an' he turned round an' give me this 'ere."
"And what was Sir Mortimer's friend like?"
"A tall—werry sleepy gentleman, wot smiled, m' lud."
"Ha!" exclaimed the Viscount, starting; "and with a scar upon one cheek?"
"Yes, m'lud."
His Lordship frowned. "That would be Chichester," said he thoughtfully. "Now I wonder what the devil should bring that fellow so far from London?"