“Well—the fact is, Mrs. Peddar, something very remarkable has taken place. I’ve come up to tell you all about it, and to ask your advice.”
“You had better come in.”
I went into her sitting-room, she, with an eye for the proprieties, leaving the door discreetly open. There was that in her bearing which made me wonder if she suspected me of having been guilty of some act of rakish impropriety, unworthy of my age and character. I was conscious that the course in front of me was not all smooth sailing.
“A young lady, Mrs. Peddar, has just entered my room through the window.”
“Through the window! Mr. Ferguson! At this hour!”
“I’m afraid the poor thing is not quite right in her mind.”
“I should think not. That is the best thing you can hope of her.”
“She is quite a lady.”
“Lady!” Mrs. Peddar tightened her lips. “Mr. Ferguson, are you laughing at me, sir?”
“I assure you I am perfectly serious; and I give you my word she is a lady. You have only to see her for yourself to find that. Wait a minute—let me finish! I thought at first that she was a somnambulist; that she had been walking in her sleep; and I am still of opinion that something strange has happened to her. She is unable to tell me her name, who she is, whence she comes, or anything about herself; she seemed as if she were mazed.”