"She is probably poor, and wants me to help her," replied Mrs. Ellsworthy. "I hate seeing beggars, for I find it absolutely impossible to say no to them. Show her up, Henry, and give her a hint that I'm going out to dinner, and can only spare her a very few moments."
Hannah could not certainly be accused when she entered Mrs. Ellsworthy's room, of any want of nerves. Her hands were shaking, her lips were tremulous, and her face, as she entered the room, became perfectly white.
"You'll excuse me, ma'am," she said. "I'm most sorry to trouble you, but I'm that anxious, I scarce know what I'm doing. I undertook a railway journey—which I don't think right—and I came here through most crowded streets in a dreadful vehicle, for I just wanted to ask you a single question, ma'am."
"Sit down, my poor woman," said Mrs. Ellsworthy, who, the moment she looked at Hannah, began to have a dim sort of idea that she had seen her before, and also became full of pity for her. "Sit down. How you tremble! I am sorry to see you are so nervous."
"Nervous, ma'am!" echoed Hannah. "That I should hear that said of me! No, ma'am, it ain't nervous I am, but I'm rather worried with the tremblings during the last few hours. I've come to ask you a plain question, ma'am, plain and direct. It's about the young man Mr. Noel. Have he, ma'am, or have he not, a mole on his left arm? I'd like yes or no, ma'am."
"A mole on his left arm!" echoed Mrs. Ellsworthy. "My good woman, what a very extraordinary question; you really quite startle me. Has Arthur Noel a mole on his left arm? Yes, of course he has; I used to notice it when he was a child. I suppose people don't outgrow moles, so he probably has it still. Why, Mrs. Martin—I am told your name is Martin—how very white you are. Would you—would you like a glass of wine?"
"Thank you, ma'am—no wine, thank you, ma'am. I'm a bit upset. Yes, I'm a bit upset, for I believe Mr. Arthur Noel is my long-lost baby."
The footman downstairs had given Mrs. Martin careful directions not to occupy more than a moment or two of his mistress's valuable time; but though he waited on the stairs and lingered about in the entrance-hall, no bell summoned him to show out this remarkable visitor. An hour passed away, an hour and a half, and still Mrs. Martin remained in close conversation with Mrs. Ellsworthy. At the end of the hour and a half Henry looked earnestly at the clock, sighed, and felt that it was his duty to go into the room to let Mrs. Ellsworthy know that she would be late for her dinner-party. He found that good lady sitting by her writing-table with very flushed cheeks and tearful eyes, and Hannah standing in quite a familiar attitude by her side.
"Give this note to Mr. Ellsworthy when he comes in, Henry, and order the carriage to be brought round directly. I am not going to dine out to-night. I will just go upstairs to change my bonnet. And Henry, take Mrs. Martin down to the servants' hall, and give her some dinner. She is coming out with me in the carriage, so be quick, please."
As Mrs. Ellsworthy stood before her glass re-arranging her toilet her maid saw her wiping some tears from her pretty eyes.