"It is a little private business of my own."
Mrs. Brand looked very serious.
"Have any of the servants here been making love to you, Dorothy?"
"No, no, nothing of the sort," and Dorothy laughed merrily, "I know as little of them as I do of his lordship."
"Lord Wilton is a single man," said Mrs. Brand, gravely. "Do you think it quite prudent for a young girl to ask him questions?"
Dorothy looked puzzled. She certainly did not comprehend Mrs. Brand's prudery.
"You see, ma'am," she continued, with the same charming frankness, "our Gilbert is with the army in Spain, and serves in the same regiment with Captain Fitzmorris, my lord's son. A great battle has been fought at Corunna, and we don't know whether Gilbert has been killed or not. Mr. Rushmere is fretting himself to death with anxiety about his son. I thought that Lord Wilton might be able to give us some information respecting him, and if I could but speak to himself, and tell him all the anguish we are suffering, I feel certain, by the character for benevolence that he bears, that he would either confirm or remove our apprehensions, by writing to his son, whose servant Gilbert is."
"Aye—now you talk sense, Dorothy. You should have told me this at first. I have no doubt that his lordship will do what he can for you. Poor dear man, he has been in great trouble about Viscount"—Mrs. Brand placed a particular emphasis upon the title, as if to reprove Dorothy for her omission of it—"Fitzmorris, ever since he saw in the papers that he was badly wounded. He has shut himself up, and scarcely tasted food since he got the news. It may be some relief to his mind to know that a neighbour is fretting about an only son too. Sit down, Dorothy, I will go to his study and see if my lord can speak with you."
In a few minutes the good woman returned, and told Dorothy to follow her to the library.