Instantly he was at the door, with his hat lifted; he assumed an expression of polite regret as he saw Dobson, the maid, in her mistress’s place.
“Sorry,” he said, “I knew the carriage, and thought that Mrs. Hillmer was inside. She is well, I trust.”
“Not very, sir,” answered the maid with an angry pout.
“Indeed, what is the matter?”
“Madame is going away, and has put us all on board wages.”
Dobson had some of the privileges of a companion, and resented this relegation to the servants’ hall.
“Going away?” cried Bruce. “A sudden departure, eh?”
The girl was arranging some parcels on the seat in front of her. She was not disinclined for a conversation with this good-looking gentleman, so she smiled archly, as she said: “Didn’t you know, sir? I thought you would know all about it.”
What he might have ascertained by a longer chat the barrister could not tell, for an interruption occurred. The coachman was more loyal to his mistress than the maid.
“Beg pardon, sir,” he cried, “but the missus told us to hurry”; and he whipped his steed into the passing stream of carriages.