Here
we are! Permit me!"
Wingrave kept his word. He saw Lady Ruth to her front door, and then
turned back towards his carriage. Standing by the side of the footman,
a little breathless, haggard and disheveled-looking, was the young man
who had attempted to check their progress a few minutes ago.
Wingrave took hold of his arm firmly.
"Get in there," he ordered, pointing to the carriage.
The young man tried to escape, but he was held as though in a vise.
Before he well knew where he was, he was in the carriage, and Wingrave
was seated by his side.
"What do you want with me?" he asked hoarsely.
"I want to know what you mean by following that lady about?" Wingrave
asked.
The young man leaned forward. His hand was upon the door.
"Let me get out," he said sullenly.
"With pleasure--presently," Wingrave answered. "I can assure you that
I am not anxious to detain you longer than necessary. Only you must
first answer my question."
"I want to speak to her! I shall follow her about until I can!" the
young man declared.
Wingrave glanced at him with a faint derisive smile. His clothes were
worn and shabby, he was badly in need of a shave and a wash. He sat
hunched up in a corner of the carriage, the picture of mute discomfort
and misery.
"Do you know who she is?" Wingrave asked.
"Mademoiselle Violet!" the young man answered.
"You are mistaken," Wingrave answered. "She is Lady Ruth Barrington,
wife of Lumley Barrington and daughter of the Earl of Haselton.
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