This occasioned a smirk.

"Well, she hasn't any regular hours at present. Sometimes she comes
to dinner, sometimes she doesn't. Sometimes she comes to tea, but
just as often she isn't 'ome till late. P'r'aps you'd like to leave
your name?"

"I think I'll call again."

"Did you expect to find her at 'ome now?" asked the young woman,
whose curiosity grew more eager as she watched Hilliard's
countenance.

"Perhaps," he replied, neglecting the question, "I should find her
here to-morrow morning?"

"Well, I can say as someone's going to call, you know."

"Please do so."

Therewith he turned away, anxious to escape a volley of
interrogation for which the landlady's tongue was primed.

He walked into Gower Street, and pondered the awkward interview that
now lay before him. On his calling to-morrow, Miss Madeley would
doubtless come to speak with him at the door; even supposing she had
a parlour at her disposal, she was not likely to invite a perfect
stranger into the house. How could he make her acquaintance on the
doorstep? To be sure, he brought a message, but this commission had
been so long delayed that he felt some shame about discharging it.