“Then where is he?”
Jacob, always a discreet and discriminating servant, did not like the look of this ill-attired stranger. He was particularly distrustful of females.
“I want to see him—to tell him something for his own advantage. It’s imperative that I should see him immediately,” she continued.
“Well,” remarked Jacob, hesitating, and reflecting that it might possibly be to his master’s advantage. “The fact is, he’s gone to be married.”
“To be married!” she echoed, staggering as if she had been dealt a blow.
“Yes; he and the French lady were to be married at twelve o’clock at St. James’s. He’s gone there to meet her.”
“Where’s the church? Quick, I must go there,” she cried anxiously.
“In Piccadilly. Go to the top of the road here, turn to the right, and you’ll come to it.”
“Will he return here?”
“No; he goes to Cornwall to-night.”