CHAPTER IV
TWO TO ONE
Henrietta, high-spirited and thoughtless, was more prone to anger than to fear, to resentment than to patience. But all find something formidable in the unknown; and the presence of this man who spoke with so much aplomb, and referred to her lover as if he had some concern in him, was enough to inspire her with fear and set her on her guard. Nevertheless, she could not quite check the first impulse to resentment; the man’s very presence was a liberty, and her tone when she spoke betrayed her sense of this.
“I have no doubt,” she said, “that Mr. Stewart can be found if you wish to see him.” She turned to Mrs. Gilson. “Be good enough,” she said, “to send some one in search of him.”
“I have done that already,” the man Bishop answered.
The landlady, who did not move, seemed tongue-tied. But she did not take her eyes off the girl.
Henrietta frowned. She threw her bonnet and shawl on a side-table.
“Be good enough to send again, then,” she said, turning and speaking in the indifferent tone of one who was wont to have her orders obeyed. “He is probably within call. The chaise is ordered for ten.”
Bishop advanced a step and tapped the palm of one hand with the fingers of the other.
“That is the point, miss!” he said impressively. “You’ve hit it. The chaise is ordered for ten. It is nine now, within a minute—and the gentleman cannot be found.”
“Cannot be found?” she echoed, in astonishment at his familiarity. “Cannot be found?” She turned imperiously to Mrs. Gilson. “What does this person mean?” she said. And her tone was brave. But the colour came and went in her cheeks, and the first flutter of alarm darkened her eyes.