Once more Miss Garth attempted to stem the man’s flow of words.  It was plain that he did not know Mr. Vanstone, even by sight—­otherwise he would never have committed the error of supposing that Magdalen took after her father.  Did he know Mrs. Vanstone any better?  He had left Miss Garth’s question on that point unanswered.  In the name of wonder, who was he?  Powers of impudence! what did he want?

“You may be a friend of the family, though I don’t remember your face,” said Miss Garth.  “What may your commands be, if you please?  Did you come here to pay Mrs. Vanstone a visit?”

“I had anticipated the pleasure of communicating with Mrs. Vanstone,” answered this inveterately evasive and inveterately civil man.  “How is she?”

“Much as usual,” said Miss Garth, feeling her resources of politeness fast failing her.

“Is she at home?”

“No.”

“Out for long?”

“Gone to London with Mr. Vanstone.”

The man’s long face suddenly grew longer.  His bilious brown eye looked disconcerted, and his bilious green eye followed its example.  His manner became palpably anxious; and his choice of words was more carefully selected than ever.

“Is Mrs. Vanstone’s absence likely to extend over any very lengthened period?” he inquired.

“It will extend over three weeks,” replied Miss Garth.  “I think you have now asked me questions enough,” she went on, beginning to let her temper get the better of her at last.  “Be so good, if you please, as to mention your business and your name.  If you have any message to leave for Mrs. Vanstone, I shall be writing to her by to-night’s post, and I can take charge of it.”

“A thousand thanks!  A most valuable suggestion.  Permit me to take advantage of it immediately.”

He was not in the least affected by the severity of Miss Garth’s looks and language—­he was simply relieved by her proposal, and he showed it with the most engaging sincerity.  This time his bilious green eye took the initiative, and set his bilious brown eye the example of recovered serenity.  His curling lips took a new twist upward; he tucked his umbrella briskly under his arm; and produced from the breast of his coat a large old-fashioned black pocketbook.  From this he took a pencil and a card—­hesitated and considered for a moment—­wrote rapidly on the card—­and placed it, with the politest alacrity, in Miss Garth’s hand.

“I shall feel personally obliged if you will honor me by inclosing that card in your letter,” he said.  “There is no necessity for my troubling you additionally with a message.  My name will be quite sufficient to recall a little family matter to Mrs. Vanstone, which has no doubt escaped her memory.  Accept my best thanks.  This has been a day of agreeable surprises to me.  I have found the country hereabouts remarkably pretty; I have seen Mrs. Vanstone’s two charming daughters; I have become acquainted with an honored preceptress in Mr. Vanstone’s family.  I congratulate myself—­I apologize for occupying your valuable time—­I beg my renewed acknowledgments—­I wish you good-morning.”