Indeed, of a stamp
differing from any she had seen at Marbridge, so much so that she
wondered how he came to be here, and what he was doing. But this was
rather a waste of time, for the next day she knew.
The next day he came down the street again, but this time alone and on
foot. He stopped at No. 27, and there asked for Captain Polkington.
Julia, hearing the knock, and the visitor subsequently being ushered
into the dining-room, guessed it must be Mr. Gillat, perhaps come with
his parcel again; when she saw Mary she asked her.
"No, miss," was the answer; "it's another gentleman to see the
master."
"Who?" Julia's mind was alert for fresh difficulties.
"Mr. Rawson-Clew."
"I don't know who he is," Mary went on; "I've never set eyes on him
before, but he's a grand sort of gentleman; I hardly liked to put him
in the dining-room, only missis's orders was 'Mr. Gillat or any
gentleman to see the master there.'"
Which was true enough, and might reasonably have been reckoned a safe
order, for no one but Mr. Gillat ever did come to see the Captain.
"I hope I've done right," Mary said.
"Quite right," Julia answered, though she did not feel so sure of it.
The name and the vague description of the visitor somehow suggested to
her mind the stranger who had ridden past with young Mr. Rawson-Clew.
She went up-stairs, uneasy as much from intuition as from experience.
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