"You are, I believe, the landlady's daughter."
"I have just had a few words with your mother, who appears to be an extraordinary woman, and who has told me an extraordinary tale."
"My mother's not in the habit of telling extraordinary tales to anyone."
"Then, what does she mean by--by talking stuff and nonsense about Mr. Elmore's having gone, and--and I don't know what besides?"
Miss Joyce drew a long breath, and seemed to nerve herself for an effort. She had had a good deal to bear that morning, and to retain even a vestige of self-command needed all her efforts.
"Mr. Austin, Mr. Elmore has gone, and he's left a letter behind him in which he pretends that he has committed suicide; but he hasn't, I know better. But here's the letter; you might like to look at it."
He read the letter with which we are already familiar; and it had a very similar effect on him to that which it had had on others, only in his case he read it over and over again, as if to make sure that its meaning had not escaped him, yet that its meaning had escaped him his words made plain.
"You--you may understand this letter, young woman, but I certainly do not. What--what does this most extraordinary, and, as it seems to me, inconsequent, letter mean?"
"I'll tell you just as shortly as I can exactly what it means. And, perhaps, when I have told you you won't ask any more questions than you can conveniently help, because--I've had just about as much to bear as I can manage. Rodney Elmore--I'm not going to call him Mr. Elmore, I've as much right to call him Rodney as anybody in this world; he's got himself into a mess, and I'm one of them. Why, he promised to marry me to-day at twelve o'clock."
"Here's the licence to prove it; but--I suppose he daren't face it; so he's gone, and he's done me, and I'm not the only one he's done. Has he done your daughter?"
"Your question, put in such a form, I entirely decline to answer."
"You needn't; I know. And, mind you, I don't believe he's gone alone either, wherever it is he has gone to. What's the name of that girl down at Brighton that he was so thick with, and your son's sweetheart?"
Mr. Austin started as if something had stung him. He stared at the girl with growing apprehension.