from the foot of the stairs.
The girl ran down swiftly. She entered listening to Sarah, looking at
Gower; to whom, after a bob and pained smile where reverence was
owing, she said, 'Can you tell me, sir, please, where we can find Lord
Fleetwood now?'
Gower was unable to tell. Madge turned to Mr. Woodseer, saying soon
after: 'Oh, she won't mind; she'll be glad, if he knows Lord Fleetwood.
I'll fetch her.'
The moments were of the palpitating order for Gower, although his common
sense lectured the wildest of hearts for expecting such a possibility as
the presence of his lofty lady here.
And, of course, common sense proved to be right: the lady was quite
another. But she struck on a sleeping day of his travels. Her face was
not one to be forgotten, and to judge by her tremble of a smile, she
remembered him instantly.
They were soon conversing, each helping to paint the scene of the place
where they had met.
'Lord Fleetwood has married me,' she said.
Gower bent his head; all stood silent.
'May I?' said Madge to her. 'It is Lord Fleetwood's wedded wife, sir.
He drove her from her uncle's, on her wedding day, the day of a
prize-fight, where I was; he told me to wait on his lady at an inn
there, as I 've done and will. He drove away that evening, and he
hasn't'--the girl's black eyebrows worked: 'I've not seen him since.
He's a great nobleman, yes. He left his lady at the inn, expenses paid.
He left her with no money. She stayed on till her heart was breaking.
She has come to London to find him. She had to walk part of the way. She
has only a change of linen we brought in a parcel. She's a stranger to
England: she knows nobody in London. She had no place to come to but
this poor hole of ours she 's so good as let welcome her. We can't do
better, and it 's no use to be ashamed. She 's not a lady to scorn poor
people.'
The girl's voice hummed through Gower.
He said: 'Lord Fleetwood may not be in London,' and chafed at himself
for such a quaver.
'It's his house we want, sir, he has not been at his house in Kent. We
want his London house.'
'My dear lady,' said Mr. Woodseer; 'it might be as well to communicate
the state of things to your family without delay. My son will call at
any address you name; or if it is a country address, I can write the
items, with my assurances of your safety under my charge, in my house,
which I beg you to make your home. My housekeeper is known to Sarah and
Madge for an exc
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