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Updated: May 12, 2025
She knew it would be for Daisy's benefit, but her heart sank whenever she thought of it. She was glad when early in June Blake came back to them for a few days before starting on a round of visits. He approved of the Brethaven plan warmly, and he and Muriel rode over one morning to the little seaside village to make arrangements. Muriel said no more to him upon the subject of Nick.
He took a pocket-book from an inner pocket and laid the crumpled scrap within it. Then, without more ado, he put on his hat and departed. Olga was by that time spinning merrily along the road to Brethaven, having parted with Nick at the railway-station. Violet was seated beside her, and the old servant Mitchel sat sourly behind them.
It swelled quite suddenly out of the last breezes of a superb summer, and by the middle of September it had become a monster of destruction, devastating the shore. The crumbling cliffs of Brethaven testified to its violence. Beating rain and colossal, shattering waves united to accomplish ruin and destruction. And the little fishing-village looked on aghast.
Only in the deepening gloom she caught now and then the quick glitter of his eyes, and knew that like herself he was watching. Slowly the minutes wore away, the darkness grew darker. From far away there came a low, surging sound. The storm-wind was rising over the sea. Nick turned his head to listen. "Now for one of our patent storms!" he said. "Brethaven always catches it pretty strong.
I want to inveigle him into lending me his motor." "Oh, are you goin' to Brethaven?" asked Peggy eagerly. "Take me! Do, dear Noel!" "What for?" said Noel. "Reggie lives there," said Peggy. "And Reggie's got some rabbits big, white ones." "But suppose they don't want you?" objected Noel. "S'pose they don't want you?" countered Peggy, clinging ingratiatingly to his hand.
He could see that her hands were trembling, but because of her appeal he would not seem to see it. "Don't you think a change would be good for you?" he suggested. "I don't know," she answered. "Jim says so. He wants me to go to Brethaven. It's only ten miles away, and he would motor over and look after me. But I don't think it much matters. I'm not particularly fond of the sea.
As horse and rider passed from sight beyond a clump of trees, she remounted her bicycle, and rode slowly towards the house. Old and grey and weather-stained, the walls of Brethaven Priory shone in the hot sunlight.
When he dropped it she felt that he had made a full and exhaustive inspection, and she was strangely disconcerted, as if in some fashion he had gained an unfair advantage over her. "Amazing that you should be here," she explained, with a flush of embarrassment. "Oh, not in the least, I assure you," he said. "I am staying at Brethaven for a couple of days with my wife's people.
And Muriel assures me she doesn't mind." "Isn't it at Brethaven that Nick Ratcliffe owns a place?" asked Grange. "Yes. Redlands is the name. I went there once with Will. It's a beautiful place on the cliff quite thrown away on Nick, though, unless he marries, which he never will now." Grange looked uncomfortable. "It's not my fault," he remarked bluntly.
Hunt-Goring was looking remarkably elegant, attired in white drill with a yachting cap which he carried in his hand. "I seem to have come at an opportune moment," he said. "Really, the fates are more than kind. The yacht is making for Brethaven jetty to take me on board. If you ladies will come with me for a couple of hours' cruise, I need scarcely say how charmed I shall be."
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