“Well, Miss Kingscott, if you will wait a short time, I will go with you.”
“I’ve waited long enough,” she said, impatiently. “Cannot you come now?”
“No, I have some matters to settle first; but, I will not delay; and, besides, I must see Markworth himself first, before anything can be done.”
“See Markworth! What do you want to see him for?” she exclaimed, in surprise. “Why I have seen him there already!”
“That’s my business,” Mr Trump said, curtly; “but it will be better for you if you leave it in my hands. Will you meet me in half-an-hour at Abednego’s place in Chancery lane?”
“I suppose I must,” said the governess, after hesitating a moment, for I “cannot act very well without you. But you will be certain to be there, won’t you?”
“I always keep my word,” answered the lawyer, sententiously; “I will be there in half-an-hour.”
“Very well,” said the governess; and she went to the appointed place and passed the time in restlessly walking up and down the pavement in front of the sponging-house, until Mr Trump should come.
At the time appointed—it was now late in the afternoon, and legal hours were nearly over—as punctual as clockwork, Mrs Hartshorne’s lawyer made his appearance. He was accompanied by Doctor Jolly and a lady dressed in deep black, with her face closely veiled.
“Who is she?” asked the governess, pointing to this lady, who leant on the doctor’s arm, and was trembling, as Miss Kingscott could see, although she could not distinguish her face. “Who is she? No stranger has any business with him or me!”