Being hired to open and shut the gate, and
not to explain himself to strangers, he left this little incident to be
developed by the footman with the tags, who, at this juncture, called
out from the door steps:
'Hollo, there! wot are you up to? This way, young man!'
'Oh!' said Tom, hurrying towards him. 'I didn't observe that there was
anybody else. Pray is Miss Pinch at home?'
'She's IN,' replied the footman. As much as to say to Tom: 'But if you
think she has anything to do with the proprietorship of this place you
had better abandon that idea.'
'I wish to see her, if you please,' said Tom.
The footman, being a lively young man, happened to have his attention
caught at that moment by the flight of a pigeon, in which he took so
warm an interest that his gaze was rivetted on the bird until it was
quite out of sight. He then invited Tom to come in, and showed him into
a parlour.
'Hany neem?' said the young man, pausing languidly at the door.
It was a good thought; because without providing the stranger, in case
he should happen to be of a warm temper, with a sufficient excuse for
knocking him down, it implied this young man's estimate of his quality,
and relieved his breast of the oppressive burden of rating him in secret
as a nameless and obscure individual.
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