“But who are you?” The woman at the gate was staring at the interloper. “What is your name and what are you doing here?”
“What I am doing here, I have already told you.” The woman popped up her umbrella as an unseasonable and unexpected rain began. “I am here to speak to Madam Thare Oliphant.”
“The current mistress of the house is not Thare Oliphant, and hasn’t been in two hundred and seventy-two years.”
“You’re remarkably well-informed for a gate guard.”
‘That would be true, if I were a gate guard. But since that’s not what I am…”
“You are definitely curious.” The woman with the umbrella frowned.
“Yes. I’m quite curious about you. Since you are here to visit a dead woman, I think I can repeat my question: Who are you?”
“That is neither here nor there. I wish that I could tell you more, but there are matters to be dealt with that needed Madam Oliphant’s touch.”
“I said that Madam Thare was no longer the mistress of the house. But perhaps Madam Heer might be able to help you. If you come looking, as it were, for the Oliphant in the drawing room?”
The woman with the umbrella narrowed her eyes. “I see. Well then, lead on.”
“But who are you?”
“As we have established, I am neither Madams Heer nor Thare, and I need their help.”
Written to April 25th’s Thimbleful Thursday Prompt.Want more?