Part 27 (2/2)

'If you please, miss, I want to speak to him.'

I could have scratched myself for calling her miss, she being my lady.

But she didn't seem to mind. She had another look at me, and then she said:

'Come in. Perhaps you can tell me on what subject you wish to speak to my brother.' I followed her into the room she had just come out of.

There was another lady in it; but, except that somehow I knew that she was older than the other, I didn't take any notice of what she was like. 'Now, is there any message which you can give me and which I can deliver to my brother?'

She looked at me so straight, and with such an odd something in her eyes, that I grew more confused than ever.

'If you please, miss, I mean my lady, I only wanted to ask him what he's done with my husband.'

'You only wanted to ask him what?'

'What he's done with my husband.'

I had to put my handkerchief up to my eyes. But it was as much rage as anything; through my feeling such a fool, and, no doubt, looking one.

The young lady glanced at the other. I knew what she was thinking, and small blame to her; I could have boxed Mr. FitzHoward's ears for getting me into such a mess.

'I don't understand you. Who are you? And what has my brother to do with your husband?'

'If you please, miss, I mean my lady, my name's Merrett; but my husband's known as Mr. Montagu Babbacombe. He's the famous Mr. Montagu Babbacombe.'

I've a sort of suspicion that the young lady smiled.

'The famous Mr. Montagu Babbacombe? I am afraid that his fame has not reached me. And what has my brother to do with Mr. Babbacombe?'

'That's what I want to know.'

'Where is your husband?'

'I want to know that too.'

'Do you mean that he's left home?'

'I haven't seen or heard of him since he went out last Sunday week to see your brother.'

'To see my brother? How do you know that he went to see my brother?'

'He had an interview at the York Hotel with your brother, who called himself Mr. John Smith.'

'My brother called himself Mr. John Smith?'

'Yes, my lady; and yesterday when Mr. FitzHoward saw him in Piccadilly----'

'Who's Mr. FitzHoward?'

'My husband's business manager. He went up to him and asked him what he'd been doing with my husband. And he was so struck all of a heap, and went on in such a way, that Mr. FitzHoward felt sure that he'd been doing something he didn't ought to. Then he found out that his name wasn't Smith at all, but Howarth; so he brought me here to ask what he's been doing to my James.'

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