How the Monday affected the rest of the household I don't know. The
Monday gave ME a good shake up. The first of Sergeant Cuff's
prophecies of what was to happen--namely, that I should hear from the
Yollands--came true on that day.
I had seen Penelope and my lady's maid off in the railway with the
luggage for London, and was pottering about the grounds, when I heard
my name called. Turning round, I found myself face to face with the
fisherman's daughter, Limping Lucy. Bating her lame foot and her
leanness (this last a horrid draw-back to a woman, in my opinion), the
girl had some pleasing qualities in the eye of a man. A dark, keen,
clever face, and a nice clear voice, and a beautiful brown head of
hair counted among her merits. A crutch appeared in the list of her
misfortunes. And a temper reckoned high in the sum total of her defects.
"Well, my dear," I said, "what do you want with me?"
"Where's the man you call Franklin Blake?" says the girl, fixing me with
a fierce look, as she rested herself on her crutch.
"That's not a respectful way to speak of any gentleman," I answered. "If
you wish to inquire for my lady's nephew, you will please to mention him
as MR.
Pages:
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363