“Oh, perfectly—I——”
“Pray take some tea.”
“And my visit is a failure. I'm awfully sorry I can't be of any use!”
“None here, Sir, to Mr. Arden—none, no more than I.”
“Then I have only to beg of you to accept my apologies for having given you a great deal of trouble, and to beg pardon for having disturbed you, and to say good-night.”
“No trouble—none. I am glad everything is clear now. Good-night.”
And Mr. Longcluse saw him politely to the door, and said again, in a clear, stern tone, but with a smile and another bow, “Good-night,” as he parted at the door.
About an hour later a servant arrived with a letter for Mr. Longcluse. That gentleman recognised the hand, and suspended his business to read it. He did so with a smile. It was thus expressed:—
“Sir,
“I beg to inform you, in the distinctest terms, that neither Mr. Vandeleur, nor any other gentleman, had any authority from me to enter into any discussion with you, or to make the slightest allusion to subjects upon which Mr. Vandeleur, at your desire, tells me he, this evening, thought fit to converse with you. And I beg, in the most pointed manner, to disavow all connection with, or previous knowledge of, that gentleman's visit and conversation. And I do so lest Mr. Vandeleur's assertion to the same effect should appear imperfect without mine.—I remain, Sir, your obedient servant,
“Richard Arden.
“To Walter Longcluse, Esq.”
“Does any one wait for an answer?” he asked, still smiling.