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Updated: May 28, 2025
Lady Audley had availed herself of the very strongest arguments by which she could help her cause. "To be sure, my darling, to be sure," answered the baronet. "What could have put such a horrible fancy into the unhappy boy's head. This Mr. Talboys a perfect stranger to all of us murdered at Audley Court! I'll go to Mount Stanning to-night, and see Robert.
She clinched her small hands as she uttered the last words, and walked to the window of the dressing-room, which looked straight toward that ivied archway under which any one must come who came from Mount Stanning to the Court.
They had a passion for rows, and this looked distinctly promising. There was a pause. Stanning looked carefully at Drummond. Drummond looked carefully at Stanning. "I was going to see Sheen," said Stanning at length. "He isn't in." "Oh!" Another pause. "Was it anything special?" inquired Drummond pleasantly. The expedition edged a little forward. "No. Oh, no. Nothing special," said Stanning.
"Great Scott!" said Stanning, "swotting?" Sheen glanced almost guiltily at his Thucydides. Still, it was something of a relief that the other had not opened the conversation with an indictment of Drummond. "You see," he said apologetically, "I'm in for the Gotford." "So am I. What's the good of swotting, though? I'm not going to do a stroke."
Desmond was in the act of debating whether he would not take the motor-bike, but the cherub's winning way clinched it and he plumped for walking. In the hall he met the housekeeper who told him she wanted to go into Stanning to do some shopping that afternoon. Desmond told her that he himself was going out and would not be back for tea.
"That's Albert," said Linton, jumping up. "Yes, I heard them call him that," said Barry. "McTodd and I were coming down here to tea, when they started going for us, so we nipped in here, hoping to find reinforcements." "We were just behind you," said Stanning. "I got one of them a beauty. He went down like a shot." "Albert?" inquired Linton. "No. A little chap."
"What did Sheen say when you told him you wanted the court?" This was getting near a phase of the subject which Attell was not eager to discuss. "Oh, he didn't say much," he said. "Did you do anything?" persisted Stanning. Attell suddenly remembered having noticed that Sheen was wearing a black eye. This was obviously a thing to be turned to account. "I hit him in the eye," he said.
Instead of taking the evening train for London, he went straight up to the little village of Mount Stanning, and walking into the neatly-kept inn, asked Phoebe Marks if he could be accommodated with apartments.
She had dreamed that a brook, a tiny streamlet when she first saw it, flowed across the road between Mount Stanning and Audley, and gradually swelled into a river, and from a river became an ocean, till the village on the hill receded far away out of sight and only a great waste of waters rolled where it once had been.
Rather as if you were to come suddenly upon a child playing with a live shell. What Gilbert Stanning thought of it all is another matter; Joan with all her book-learned wisdom had not fathomed his character. He was a man about thirty-two, good-looking, indolent and selfish.
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