And who was Mr. Aby Henley?

The steward and gardener of Sir Arthur; his head man.

Steward and gardener? The son of a gardener a gentleman?

Yes, sir. To be sure, sir, among thorough bred quality, though perhaps
he may be better than the best of them, he is thought no better than a
kind of a sort of a gentleman; being not so high born.

Well, said your brother, shew me to this son of Mr. Aby; this
peremptory gentleman; or, as you call him, kind of a sort of a
gentleman!

Laura obeyed; and she says they were quite surprised at the sight of
each other; but that I suppose to be one of the flourishes of her
fancy. Your brother, however, as I understand, desired, with some
haughtiness, that Frank would suffer the maid to pass, and inform me he
was come, agreeably to Sir Arthur's request, to pay his respects to me.
Frank resolutely refused; alleging I was not well. Not well! Said your
brother. Is not this Sir Arthur's handwriting? Yes, replied Frank; but
I assure you she is not well: and I am afraid that even our speaking
may awaken her, if she should chance to be asleep. I must therefore
request, sir, you would retire.

The oddness of the circumstances, and the positiveness of Frank,
displeased your brother. Sir Arthur happened to return; and he went to
him, scarcely taking time for first compliments, but asking whether it
were true that I was not well. Sir Arthur was surprised: he knew
nothing of it! I had not thought a giddiness in the head worth a