Yet it was the same man.
With an air of dense stupidity, he evaded such questions as James deigned to put to him, and reiterated his petition for a personal interview with Lady Prudence Brooke, for whom he had a message that was to be delivered to her, and to her alone. James, scenting a discreet but persistent dun, bade him wait in the library, and conveyed his request to Prue with the same air of respectful condolence with which he would have announced any other calamity. Although he disapproved of her youth and frivolity, James would have yielded to none in admiration of his beautiful young mistress, whom he had carried in his arms as a baby and conspired with every other member of Lady Drumloch's household to indulge, spoil and flatter from the first hour that her blue eyes had opened on a world full of her adorers.
"A young man is waiting below, my Lady. He has a message for you which he will not send up. I told him you were engaged, but he said he would wait until you were at leisure."
"What sort of a young man, James? Does he look as if he came for money?" Prue asked. "You know most of my duns better than I do."
"He is a stranger to me, my Lady, but it is likely he may be a lawyer's clerk in disguise."
"I will see him, James; bring him up here," she interrupted.
"The hair-dresser is here; shall I tell him to wait?" inquired James.
"No; send him up-stairs. Peggie, go and have your hair dressed first, and by that time I will be ready."
She was alone when the young man was shown in. "You want to see me?" she said, as soon as the door was shut. "You come to fetch something, do you not?"
"The captain told me—" he began, then stopped and stared mutely at her.