Later on he was sent for to go and see Stargarde. He found her busy with a heap of sewing.
“Good-evening, MacDaly,” she said kindly. “Did you deliver my note?”
“Yes, gracious lady,” he responded mournfully; then he proceeded to give her an account of the afflicting manner in which he had been treated by one of her deputies.
Stargarde was listening indulgently and attentively when he suddenly paused and began to fidget with his hat.
“What is the matter?” she asked.
“’Tis the foreign and unlooked-for young lady,” he said, pointing to the inner room. “If it is not unbecoming, may your humble servant ask wherefore and whence does she come?”
“Vivienne,” called Stargarde; “come here, dear.”
The girl sauntered out with a book in hand, whereupon MacDaly fell into a state of great agitation. Vivienne surveyed him curiously, and Stargarde laid down her work. “MacDaly, did you know this young lady’s father?”
“Yes, complacent lady, yes,” he murmured.
“Did you?” said Vivienne eagerly. “Stargarde, may I ask him some questions?”