“More than once,” she replied. “He annoys me dreadfully. When my father is with me, he keeps out of the way; but I cannot always have a protector at my side. This is one reason why I have resolved to go into service. I shall be secure from my tormentor.”
“I hope he won't trouble you much longer,” remarked Chetwynd.
Just then a knock was heard at the door. It was rather sharp, and surprised the hearers.
“Who can that be?” cried Rose, uneasily.
“I'll go and see,” replied her mother.
The person at the door was no other than Tom Tankard. He inquired for Rose, and Mrs. Hartley begged him to come in, and ushered him at once into the little parlour.
Tom, who was dressed in evening attire, appeared very much surprised at the sight of Chetwynd, and would have retreated, if he could have done so with a good grace.
Declining to take a seat, he addressed himself to Rose, and said:
“I hope you will excuse this intrusion, Miss Hartley, but I am the bearer of a message to you from my friend, Mr. Harry Netterville. He wishes to know whether you will grant him an interview?”
“Shall I?” said Rose, in a low voice.