"Has Lady Hartledon returned?"
"She came in now, my lord, while I was denying you to him. Her ladyship heard him say he would see you, and she inquired what his business was; but he did not tell her. It was private business, he remarked, and could only be entered into with your lordship."
"Who is it, Hedges? Do you know him?"
Lord Hartledon had dropped his voice to confidential tones. Hedges was faithful, and had been privy to some of his embarrassments in the old days. The man looked at the barrister, and seemed to hesitate.
"Speak out. You can say anything before Mr. Carr."
"I don't know him," answered Hedges. "It is the gentleman who came to Hartledon the week after your lordship's marriage, asking five hundred questions, and wanting—"
"He, is it?" interrupted Val. "You told me about him when I came home, I remember. Go on, Hedges."
"That's all, my lord. Except that he is here now"—and Hedges nodded his head towards the room-door. "He seems very inquisitive. When my lady went upstairs, he asked whether that was the countess, and followed her to the foot of the stairs to look after her. I never saw any gentleman stare so."
Val played with his wine-glass, and pondered. "I don't believe I owe a shilling in the world," quoth he—betraying the bent of his thoughts, and speaking to no one in particular. "I have squared-up every debt, as far as I know."
"He does not look like a creditor," observed Hedges, with a fatherly air. "Quite superior to that: more like a parson. It's his manner that makes one doubt. There was a mystery about it at Hartledon that I didn't like; and he refused to give his name. His insisting on seeing your lordship now, at dinner or not at dinner, is odd too; his voice is quiet, just as if he possessed the right to do this. I didn't know what to do, and as I say, he's in the hall."