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Updated: May 11, 2025
Lady Cottesbrook was silenced. After a little she turned her attention to other matters, to her brother's evident relief. It was on a still, frosty evening of many stars that Cynthia came to Farringdean Castle. A young moon was low in the sky, and she paused to curtsey to it upon descending from the motor that had borne her thither. She turned to find Babbacombe beside her.
He would have excused himself later from accompanying his host into the drawing-room, but Babbacombe insisted upon this so stubbornly that finally, with his characteristic lift of the shoulders, he yielded. As they entered, Lady Cottesbrook raised her glasses, and favoured him with a close scrutiny. "It's very curious," she said, "but I can't help feeling as if I have seen you somewhere before.
West, with his back to the light, sat motionless, listening. Lady Cottesbrook took up a book, and ignored him. There was something unfathomable about her brother's bailiff to which she strongly objected. An hour later, when he had gone, she spoke of it. "That man has the eyes of a criminal, Jack. I am sure he isn't trustworthy. He is too brazen. Where in the world did you pick him up?"
He returned to Farringdean in the middle of January with one of his married sisters, whom he had secured to act as hostess to his party. He invited West to dine with them informally on the night of his return. His sister, Lady Cottesbrook, a gay and garrulous lady some years his senior, received the new agent with considerable condescension.
She has been in Paris." "What has she been doing there? Buying her trousseau?" "I really don't know." There was a faint inflection of irritation in his voice. "Doesn't her consenting to come here mean that she will accept you?" questioned Lady Cottesbrook. She never hesitated to ask in plainest terms for anything she wanted. "No," Babbacombe said heavily. "It does not."
"I have just discovered of whom it is that your very unpleasant agent reminds me," observed Lady Cottesbrook at the breakfast-table on the following morning. "It flashed upon me suddenly. He is the very image of that nasty person, Nat Verney, who swindled such a crowd of people a few years ago. I was present at part of his trial, and a more callous, thoroughly insolent creature I never saw.
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