"Go, Pembridge, and look for your mama; you must be nigh starved, and Miss Vernon too, I dare say; get the keys, will you, we are all ready for tea. Will you come near the fire?"
With these mingled directions and remarks, Mrs. Jorrocks, sen., subsided into an arm chair of considerable dimensions, and stared at Kate, who puzzled and confused by so terrible an awaking from her dream of an interesting old lady, sat for a few minutes in unbroken silence.
"How did you leave Mrs. Tom," was at length asked by Miss Vernon's new acquaintance.
"Quite well. I saw her the day before yesterday; she desired many kind messages to you."
"They have been very gay up in London; time she settled at home."
"Mrs. Jorrocks seems anxious to do so," replied Kate.
"So she tells you; she be sharp enough; you were coming to me. Had you a quiet journey?"
"Very, thank you. I met a most polite old gentleman—a neighbour of yours, at least, he knew your grandson."
"Who can that be? what was he like?"
Kate described him.