On entering the room, she
made her apologies with some embarrassment. Being the embarrassment
of a stranger (and not of a youthful stranger) it failed to impress
Mr. Lismore favourably.
"I am afraid I have chosen an inconvenient time for my visit," she
began.
"I am at your service," he answered, a little stiffly, "especially
if you will be so kind as to mention your business with me in few
words."
She was a woman of some spirit, and that reply roused her.
"I will mention it in one word," she said, smartly." My business
is--gratitude."
He was completely at a loss to understand what she meant, and he
said so plainly. Instead of explaining herself she put a question.
"Do you remember the night of the 11th of March, between five and
six years since?"
He considered for a moment.
"No," he said, "I don't remember it. Excuse me Mrs. Callender, I
have affairs of my own to attend to which cause me some anxiety---"
"Let me assist your memory, Mr. Lismore, and I will leave you to
your affairs. On the date that I have referred to you were on your
way to the railway-station at Bexmore, to catch the night express
from the north to London."
As a hint that his time was valuable the ship-owner had hitherto
remained standing.
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