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Updated: June 27, 2025
Emily chatted to me pleasantly about the church, and the vicar at Graylees, and family tombs, and such cheerful things, to which I said "Yes" and "No" whenever she stopped; but a cold perspiration was coming out on my forehead. I was just as sure as that I was alive, that Mrs. Senter didn't mean to leave the library until Sir Lionel had made her a present of himself, his books, and his castle.
But Sir Lionel has news that the workmen will be out of Graylees Castle before long, and he says we must leave some of the best things for another time; Oxford and Cambridge, for instance; and Graylees is so near Warwick and Kenilworth and Stratford-on-Avon that it will be best to save them for separate short trips after we have "settled down at home."
She seems very fond of her nephew Dick, with whom she says she goes about a good deal. "We chaperon each other," she expressed it. She pities me for my fire at Graylees, but envies me my motoring trip. We shall be off in a few days, now, I hope, as soon as Ellaline has been shown a few "features" of London. I went to see the car to-day, and she is a beauty.
Here and there we passed a whole villageful of white-washed cottages, with purplish-brown moss covering their roofs rather picturesque; and some of the slate-roofed, stone houses are nice in their way, too; I suppose distinctively Cornish. Not that I care! I'm glad Graylees Castle isn't in Cornwall, which is much too far from town.
We had tea in the great hall, brought by an old butler who had known Sir Lionel when he visited the uncle who left Graylees to him. Afterward, Mrs. Norton showed me "my room," where already a maid engaged for "Miss Lethbridge" had unpacked most of my things, the big luggage having arrived before us.
Graylees is practically ready for occupation, and I feel as if I ought to be there. No! That isn't good enough for you, old chap. It's true, as far as it goes; but you have begun to read between the lines by this time, I know, and I may as well speak out.
Graylees is a place to be proud of, and you would never know there had been a fire in the castle but no injury was done to the oldest part. Mrs. Norton says Graylees is called the "miniature Warwick," but it doesn't look a miniature anything: it seems enormous.
But I might have known better, knowing that good, practical little soul. She had quite another object. Came to break the news of a fire at Graylees; but it seems not to have done any serious damage, except to have wiped out a few modern frills. They can easily be tacked on again. I'm glad it was no worse, for I love Graylees.
I may need all the courage that I have borrowed and cashed in advance, because suspense is worse than the pain of any blow. We leave here early to-morrow morning for Graylees Castle in Warwickshire and the tour is at an end. Your Audrie, who loves and longs for you. Graylees Castle, Night of September 12th Roman Candles!! Rockets!!!"
He seems the same as ever. I'm lost in it! I'll post this downstairs. Please write at once to Graylees; for if I am sent away before, I'll ask to have letters forwarded to my own address. Your Audrie. Newcastle, September 10th 8 A.M. You might have told me what was up. Is your mother really ill? Am anxious and puzzled. Don't think you play fair. Wire, Midland Hotel, Bradford. Gwen.
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