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Updated: June 28, 2025
The pony trotted briskly towards the door, and he took a stride to meet them. "Miss Farmond!" he said. A low voice answered, and though he could not catch the words, the tone was enough for him. And then another voice said: "Aye, sir, I've brought her over." "Bisset!" said he. "It's you, is it? Well, what's happened?"
Indeed, the girl seemed too disconcerted to hide the fact. "Good morning, Miss Farmond," said he with what seemed intended for an air of surprise; as though he had no idea she had been within a mile of him. "You coming to see Simon on business too?" And then taking the cue from her constrained manner, he added hurriedly, and with a note of dejection he could not quite hide, "Well, good-bye."
"I couldn't help feeling he had something on his mind against me, though I suppose he really doesn't trouble his head about my existence." "I'm hanged if I like the way he looks at me!" muttered the baronet, and once again Cicely caught that odd expression in his eye. That afternoon Bisset informed Miss Farmond that her ladyship desired to see her.
And it is most unlikely that he should have said nothing to his heir about his intention to make him an adequate allowance if he came into the title and Lady Cromarty was still alive and life rented in the place. Also, it is highly probable that either Sir Reginald or Lady Cromarty told Miss Farmond that some provision would be made for her."
For an instant Simon's cold eyes opened very wide, and then he was gazing at her after his usual silent and steadfast manner. "Who you are?" he repeated after a few seconds' pause. "Yes. Indeed, Mr. Rattar, I insist on knowing!" Simon smiled slightly. "And what makes you think I can assist you to er recover your identity, Miss Farmond?" "To discover it, not recover it," she corrected.
And then for the whole drive home he fell very thoughtful indeed. Only one incident aroused him, and that but for a moment. It was quite dark by this time, and somewhere between the Keldale House lodge and the town, the lamps of the car swept for an instant over a girl riding a bicycle in the opposite direction. Carrington looked round quickly and saw that she was Miss Cicely Farmond.
"I can't see you out of this glass eye unless I turn round, so whether you're pulling my leg or not I don't know, but I was just saying to old Simon that the only kind of lady likely to take an interest in me was a female collector of antique curiosities, and you don't seem that sort, Miss Farmond." She said nothing for a moment, and then asked: "Were you discussing ladies then with Mr. Rattar?"
So far as the observant Bisset could judge, the baronet seemed, indeed, to be having so depressing an effect upon the young lady that as her friend and counsellor he took the liberty of advising a change of air. "We'll miss you vera much, Miss Farmond," he was good enough to say, "but I'm thinking that what you want is a seaside resort." She smiled a little sadly.
Then for a short time he was closeted with Sir Malcolm, who, referring to the interview afterwards, described him as "infernally close and unsatisfactory"; and finally, in company with the young baronet and Cicely Farmond, he ate a hurried lunch and departed. Ever since the fatal evening, Lady Cromarty had been shut up in her own apartments and the two young people had taken their meals together.
There was something so evidently sincere in this murmur that his embarrassment forthwith left him. "Thank Heaven!" he said after his outspoken habit. "I was afraid I was putting my foot in it. But if you really don't mind my seeing you for a minute or two, I'd just like to say " He broke off abruptly, and she looked up at him questioningly. "Dash it, I can't say it, Miss Farmond!
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