“Certainly. Here, if you please,” was the reply.
“Why,” retorted Mr. Inspector, again using his pocket handkerchief, “though there’s nothing for the lady to be at all alarmed at, still, ladies are apt to take alarm at matters of business—being of that fragile sex that they’re not accustomed to them when not of a strictly domestic character—and I do generally make it a rule to propose retirement from the presence of ladies, before entering upon business topics. Or perhaps,” Mr. Inspector hinted, “if the lady was to step upstairs, and take a look at baby now!”
“ Mrs. Rokesmith,”—her husband was beginning; when Mr. Inspector, regarding the words as an introduction, said, “Happy I am sure, to have the honour.” And bowed, with gallantry.
“ Mrs. Rokesmith,” resumed her husband, “is satisfied that she can have no reason for being alarmed, whatever the business is.”
“Really? Is that so?” said Mr. Inspector. “But it’s a sex to live and learn from, and there’s nothing a lady can’t accomplish when she once fully gives her mind to it. It’s the case with my own wife. Well, ma’am, this good gentleman of yours has given rise to a rather large amount of trouble which might have been avoided if he had come forward and explained himself. Well you see! He didn’t come forward and explain himself. Consequently, now that we meet, him and me, you’ll say—and say right—that there’s nothing to be alarmed at, in my proposing to him to come forward—or, putting the same meaning in another form, to come along with me—and explain himself.”