"I say, what's the row, miss?"
Certainly such a visitor as I, and at such an hour, had no very recognisable claim to a ceremonious reception.
"Charles," I said, "don't you know me?—Miss Ware."
The man started a little, looked hard at me, drew himself up formally, as he made his salutation, receding a step, with the hall-door open in his hand.
"Is his lordship at home?" I asked.
"No, miss, he dined out to-day."
"But I must see him, Charles. If he knew it was I he could not refuse. Tell him mamma is dangerously ill, and I have no one to help me."
"He is out, miss; and he sleeps out of town—at Colonel Anson's to-night."
I uttered an exclamation of despair.
"And when is he to return?"