“No, but I come from Mrs. Holbrook, her niece.”
“Oh,” said the housekeeper, grimly. “Well, I don’t think you can see Mrs. Granville; she’s got a headache, and can’t be disturbed.”
[CHAPTER XXXI.
A DEFEAT FOR THE HOUSEKEEPER.]
The housekeeper held the door half way open, and evidently meant to prevent Paul from entering. If he had been less determined, or more easily abashed, he would have given up his purpose. But Number 91 had a will of his own.
“I don’t accept a dismissal from you, madam,” he said, eying Mrs. Mercer with a steady glance. “I demand to see Mrs. Granville.”
“Hoity toity! Who are you, I’d like to know?” demanded the housekeeper, amazed and exasperated.
“A visitor to Mrs. Granville,” answered Paul; “you, I suppose, are a servant.”
“Do you dare to call me a servant, you impudent boy?” answered Mrs. Mercer, raising her voice.