“One more, Mr. Morris. I guessed that you had become acquainted with Sir Jervis Redwood.”
“For the second time, Miss Emily, you have arrived at a sound conclusion. My one hope of finding opportunities for observing Sir Jervis’s housekeeper depended on my chance of gaining admission to Sir Jervis’s house.”
“How did you succeed? Perhaps you provided yourself with a letter of introduction?”
“I knew nobody who could introduce me,” Alban replied. “As the event proved, a letter would have been needless. Sir Jervis introduced himself—and, more wonderful still, he invited me to his house at our first interview.”
“Sir Jervis introduced himself?” Emily repeated, in amazement. “From Cecilia’s description of him, I should have thought he was the last person in the world to do that!”
Alban smiled. “And you would like to know how it happened?” he suggested.
“The very favor I was going to ask of you,” she replied.
Instead of at once complying with her wishes, he paused—hesitated—and made a strange request. “Will you forgive my rudeness, if I ask leave to walk up and down the room while I talk? I am a restless man. Walking up and down helps me to express myself freely.”
Her face brightened for the first time. “How like You that is!” she exclaimed.
Alban looked at her with surprise and delight. She had betrayed an interest in studying his character, which he appreciated at its full value. “I should never have dared to hope,” he said, “that you knew me so well already.”