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Updated: May 15, 2025
Pengarth found the room suddenly warm, and mopped his forehead with a large silk handkerchief. "I have no authority," he declared, "to answer any questions." "Then can you tell me of your own accord," she said, "why there is all this mystery? Why may I not know who he is, why may I not write to him? Am I anything to be ashamed of, that he will not trust me even with his name?
"I take it for granted that the deed is made out according to my instructions." "Certainly, Sir Wingrave!" "Then we will go into the house, and I will sign it." Mr. Pengarth mopped his forehead once more. It was a terrible thing to have a conscience.
He was staying, it appears, with some friends at the Victoria Hotel a Mr. and Mrs. Ransom, Americans. The hotel people thought that he had been to meet them at Liverpool, had taken them through the Lakes, and had then seen them off for the south. He himself was on his way to Scotland to fish. He had sent his luggage to Pengarth by rail, and chose to bicycle, himself, through the Vale of St.
"You're going to put up the pony and stay to lunch, of course?" he said. "I'll ring for the boy." She stopped him. "Please don't!" she exclaimed. "I have come to see you on business!" Mr. Pengarth, after his first gasp of astonishment, was a different man. He fumbled about on the desk, and produced a pair of gold spectacles, which he adjusted with great nicety on the edge of his very short nose.
"But surely he will come back himself some time?" she asked, The lawyer shook his head sorrowfully. "I am afraid," he said, "that Sir Wingrave has no affection for the place whatever." "No affection for Tredowen," she repeated wonderingly. "Do you know what I think, Mr. Pengarth? I think that it is the most beautiful house in the world!" "And yet you talk of leaving it."
All the way from Pengarth we've hardly seen a house, or a light! and we've been driving nearly an hour. You don't expect me to live here, Edmund!" The tone was hysterical. "Don't be a fool, Netta! Doesn't it ever rain in your infernal country, eh? This is my property, my dear, worse luck! I regret it but here we are. Threlfall has got to be my home so I suppose it'll be yours too."
When he spoke, his tone sounded almost harsh. The girl turned away to dash the tears from her eyes. "What do you think of this folly, Pengarth?" The lawyer looked his best client squarely in the face. "I do not call it folly, Sir Wingrave. I think that Miss Lundy is right." There was a pause. Her eyes were still pleading with him.
His room was now connected with Melrose's room, at the other end of the house, as well as with Pengarth. He put his ear to the receiver. "Yes?" "I want to speak to you." He rose unwillingly. But at least he could air the room, which he would not have ventured to do, if Melrose were coming to him as usual for the ten minutes' hectoring, which now served as conversation between them, before bedtime.
"Shall I leave you two together for a little time?" Mr. Pengarth suggested, gathering up some papers. "Certainly not," Wingrave said shortly. "There is not the slightest necessity for it." Mr. Pengarth resumed his seat. "Just as you please," he answered. "But you must sit down, Juliet. There, you shall have my clients' chair." The girl accepted it with a little laugh.
There were few things he liked better than a chat with the young fellow whom he had taught to hold a gun; and Tatham was generally the most accessible of masters and the keenest of sportsmen, going into every detail of the shooting parties himself, with an unfailing spirit. Meanwhile Victoria was speeding eastward in her motor along the Pengarth road. Darkness was fast rushing on.
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