"
"It has been no joke to him, I can assure you," said Mrs. Carbuncle.
Lizzie could not press her request. Of course she knew more about it than
did Mrs. Carbuncle. The secret was in her own bosom, the secret as to the
midnight robbery at Carlisle, and that secret she had told to Lord George.
As to the robbery in London she knew nothing, except that it had been
perpetrated through the treachery of Patience Crabstick. Did Lord George
know more about it than she knew? and if so, was he now deterred by that
knowledge from visiting her? "You see, my dear," said Mrs. Carbuncle,
"that a gentleman visiting a lady with whom he has no connection, in her
bedroom, is in itself something very peculiar." Lizzie made a motion of
impatience under the bedclothes. Any such argument was trash to her, and
she knew that it was trash to Mrs. Carbuncle also. What was one man in her
bedroom more than another? She could see a dozen doctors if she pleased,
and if so, why not this man, whose real powers of doctoring her would be
so much more efficacious? "You would want to see him alone, too,"
continued Mrs. Carbuncle, "and, of course, the police would hear of it.
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