"Ay, ay!" grumbled Burdock," I thought it would not be long. London for
knocking and ringing all day, and ringing and knocking all night." He
opened the door reluctantly and suspiciously, and in darted a lady, whose
features were concealed by a hood. She glided across the hall, as if she
was making for some point, and old James shuffled after her, crying:
"Stop, stop! young woman. What is your name, young woman?"
"Why, James Burdock," cried the lady, removing her hood, "have you
forgotten your mistress?"
"Mistress! Why, Miss Mabel, I ask your pardon, madam--here, John,
Margery!"
"Hush!" cried Mrs. Vane.
"But where are your trunks, miss? And where's the coach, and Darby and
Joan? To think of their drawing you all the way here! I'll have 'em into
your room directly, ma'am. Miss, you've come just in time."
"What a dear, good, stupid old thing you are, James. Where is Ernest--Mr.
Vane? James, is he well and happy? I want to surprise him."
"Yes, ma'am," said James, looking down.
"I left the old stupid coach at Islington, James. The something--pin was
loose, or I don't know what. Could I wait two hours there? So I came on
by myself; you wicked old man, you let me talk, and don't tell me how he
is."
"Master is main well, ma'am, and thank you," said old Burdock, confused
and uneasy.
"But is he happy? Of course he is. Are we not to meet to-day after six
months? Ah! but never mind, they _are_ gone by.
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