He had been out in the dog-cart all the morning. Upon going indoors on his return, by the entrance that was nearest to the stables, in passing the butler's pantry he saw Lamb standing in it. The man made a sudden movement as though he would speak to him, and it arrested Charley.
"Do you want me, Lamb?" he asked, halting on his way.
Lamb dropped his voice to a mysterious whisper, and Charley instinctively moved inside, and shut the door. Lamb knew nearly as much about his young master's embarrassments as he himself knew.
"A party has been here this morning who wanted to see you, Mr. Charles. When I said you were out—gone up to London, I thought—he seemed as if he hardly believed me. I began to think I shouldn't get rid of him."
"Who was it?" asked Charles.
"It was a respectable-looking man, sir. Highly respectable, one might be tempted to call him, if his errand had not been to bother people for money. Being near the neighbourhood, he had turned aside to Grassmere to see you, he said, and his business with you was particular. Of course I knew what it all meant, Mr. Charles, and I declared you were gone out for the day and couldn't be seen though he waited till night."
"I wonder which of them it was?" mused Charley. "Did he give his name?"
"Yes, sir; Huddles. He——"
"Oh, Huddles, is it?" interrupted Charley, his mouth falling. "I'm glad I didn't see him. Is he gone for good, do you think, Lamb?"
"I should say so, sir. I fully impressed upon him that his waiting would be no earthly use. I even said, Mr. Charles, that there was no answering for your return when you went to London, and that you might be there a week, for all I could say. I told him he had better write to you, sir. 'Very well,' he said in answer, and went off with a quick step: no doubt to catch the next train."