"I suppose you explained to her that the lady had gone away unexpectedly?" Rupert exclaimed with growing irritation; "you didn't let the young lady think she had been brought here for a joke?"
"Well, o' course, sir, I didn't know nothin' about it," was the offended retort; "if you ask me, I should say there was somethin' queer in tellin' somebody to come to an 'ouse at five o'clock, and then for the 'ouse to be shut up. Which I should say it was a pore joke meself. She says: 'Ain't Mr. Mernside 'ere?' and I says, 'I don't know nothin' about nobody o' that name,' and she looks as took aback as if I'd 'it 'er, and so——"
Rupert uttered a smothered oath, then mastered himself, and asked more quietly:
"And how long has the young lady been gone?"
"Best part of a quarter of a hour. Quiet young lady she was, too; dressed very plain; you might say shabby; and went orf lookin' fit to cry with disappointment. And I just popped out agin to git me bit o' relish for tea, and you come; lor', it do seem strange."
The good lady was left to address her rambling remarks to the shrubs in the garden, for Rupert, unable to bear more of her discursiveness, turned and fled, shutting the garden gate with a sharp clang behind him, and feeling that his world had all at once gone wrong, very wrong indeed.
CHAPTER V.
"I KNOW THIS IS WORTH A LOT OF MONEY."
"I suppose I was stupid to think it could be anything but a hoax. But the letter seemed so kind, not as if it were written by a horrid person who would want to play a practical joke."