“Well,” said Mr. Bantom, “a few days ago that same pupple flunkey comes to me, and axes me a lot of questions about you.”
“About me!” ejaculated Lotte, astonished. “What could he wish to know about me? Miss Wilton, his mistress, is acquainted with my address, and would write here to me if she wished to see and speak with me.”
“Ah! it ain’t his young missus as wants to know, but his young master, I suxpexs,” observed Mr. Bantom, with a knowing nod.
“His young master,” said Lotte, turning a crimson. “Miss Wilton’s brother!”
“I only suxpexs, mind, jest as much as that. He said a gentleman—”
“What day did he come to you, did you say?”
Mr. Bantom counted on his fingers.
“Four days ago,” he replied; “Monday it vus.”
“It could not have been he,” said Lotte to herself, a sigh unconsciously escaping her lips.
Mr. Bantom proceeded.