"Hark you!" he said; "you need not rouse the whole house. It is with
Mistress Manners alone that my business lies."
He broke off, as Mrs. FitzHerbert looked over the gallery.
"Mr. Biddell!" she cried.
He shook his head, but he seemed to speak with some difficulty.
"It is just a rumour," he said, "such as there hath been before. I beg
you--"
"That ... there will be no trial at all?"
"It is just a rumour," he repeated. "I did not even come to trouble you
with it. It is with Mistress Manners that--"
"I am coming down," cried Mrs. Thomas, and vanished from the gallery.
Mr. Biddell acted with decision. He whisked out again into the passage
from the court, and there ran straight into Marjorie, who was coming in
from the little enclosed garden at the back of the house.
"Quick!" he said. "Quick! Mrs. Thomas is coming, and I do not wish--"
She led the way without a word back into the court, along a few steps,
and up again to the house into a little back parlour that the steward
used when the house was full. It was unoccupied now, and looked out into
the garden whence she was just come. She locked the door when he had
entered, and came and sat down out of sight of any that might be
passing.
"Sit here," she said; and then: "Well?" she asked.
He looked at her gravely and sadly, shaking his head once or twice. Then
he drew out a paper or two from a little lawyer's valise that he
carried, and, as he did so, heard a hand try the door outside.
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