Vimpany was at home.
The girl made no immediate reply. She seemed to be puzzled by
Mountjoy's simple question. Her familiar manner, with its vulgar
assumption of equality in the presence of a stranger, revealed the
London-bred maid-servant of modern times. "Did you say _Mrs._ Vimpany?"
she inquired sharply.
"Yes."
"There's no such person here."
It was Mountjoy's turn to be puzzled. "Is this Mr. Vimpany's house?" he
said.
"Yes, to be sure it is."
"And yet Mrs. Vimpany doesn't live here?"
"No Mrs. Vimpany has darkened these doors," the girl declared
positively.
"Are you sure you are not making a mistake?"
"Quite sure. I have been in the doctor's service since he first took
the house."
Determined to solve the mystery, if it could be done, Mountjoy asked if
he could see the doctor. No: Mr. Vimpany had gone out.
"There's a young person comes to us," the servant continued. "I wonder
whether you mean her, when you ask for Mrs. Vimpany? The name _she_
gives is Henley."
"Is Miss Henley here, now?"
"You can't see her--she's engaged."
She was not engaged with Mrs. Vimpany, for no such person was known in
the house. She was not engaged with the doctor, for the doctor had gone
out.
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