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"I wired Herbert to have everything ready at my place, though I shall spend the night at Brantholme." "The Lodge is let. Didn't you know?" "I understood that the man's tenancy ran out a few weeks ago." "He renewed it. Herbert didn't know you were coming over; the terms were good." "Then I'm homeless for a time." "Oh, no!" said Ethel.
Singleton came down again to Brantholme, bringing his amended report, which met with Herbert's approval. He spent one wet day walking through turnip fields and stubble in search of partridges, and two delightful evenings with Mrs. Lansing and Sylvia, and then he was allowed to depart. He had served his purpose, and Herbert was glad to get rid of him.
It was evening of early summer. George Lansing sat by a window of the library at Brantholme. The house belonged to his cousin; and George, having lately reached it after traveling in haste from Norway, awaited the coming of Mrs. Sylvia Marston in an eagerly expectant mood.
He failed to notice that Ethel cleverly avoided answering some of his questions and talked rather more than usual about matters of small importance. At length they reached the Brantholme gates, and Stephen looked down as George alighted. "We'll expect you over shortly; I'll send for your baggage," he said as he drove off. George, to his keen disappointment, found only Mrs.
They had some difficulty in getting the unconscious man into the car; and then its owner backed it twice into a bank before he succeeded in turning round, but in three or four minutes they carried Herbert into Brantholme, and afterward drove away at top speed in search of assistance.
Brantholme was old, but modern art had added comfort and toned down its austerity; and George, fresh from the northern snow peaks, was conscious of its restful atmosphere. In the meanwhile, he was listening for a footstep. Sylvia, he had been told, would be with him in two or three minutes; he had already been expecting her for a quarter of an hour.
"Nor can I," responded George; and West nodded. "Then," said Singleton, "when Lansing learns the truth, it will be too late for him to profit by the knowledge. I believe he has thrown away the best chance he ever had." Shortly afterward Edgar came in and they talked of something else; but two days later Herbert returned and George went over to Brantholme.
"I'm afraid I have lost some money; but, after all, it isn't my worst misfortune. I'll have a talk with Herbert as soon as he comes home." He left Brantholme the next morning and was received by Ethel when he arrived at Wests'. "We have been expecting you," she said cordially. "Then you know?" "Yes. I'm very sorry; but I suppose it will hardly bear talking about.
On the evening before George's departure, Sylvia stood with him at the entrance to the Brantholme drive. He leaned upon the gate, a broad-shouldered, motionless figure; his eyes fixed moodily upon the prospect, because he was afraid to let them dwell upon his companion.
He was not running much risk in parting with the money, and Sylvia might prove useful by and by. Sylvia left Brantholme shortly afterward and, somewhat to her annoyance, found Ethel West a guest at the house she visited. Ethel had known Dick; she was a friend of George's, and, no doubt, in regular communication with her brother in Canada.
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