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Updated: May 24, 2025
Glenarm had not only summoned Geoffrey himself to refute the aspersion cast upon him, but had forwarded a private copy of the letter to his relatives at Swanhaven. Geoffrey's defense had not entirely satisfied Julius that his brother was free from blame. As he now looked at Anne Silvester, the doubt returned upon him strengthened almost confirmed.
"I missed her when we went out on the terrace, and I have not seen her since." "Isn't it very odd, dear Mrs. Delamayn?" "Our guests at Swanhaven, Lady Lundie, have perfect liberty to do as they please." In those words Mrs. But Lady Lundie's robust curiosity proved unassailable by even the broadest hint.
Then there appeared under the porch a single gentleman, lounging out with a flower in his mouth and his hands in his pockets. This was the strongest man at Swanhaven otherwise, Geoffrey Delamayn. After a moment a lady appeared behind him, walking softly, so as not to be heard. She was superbly dressed after the newest and the most costly Parisian design.
Thinking it just possible if he kept his eyes and ears well open at Swanhaven that he might improve his prospect of making a marketable commodity of the stolen correspondence, Mr. Bishopriggs had put the letter in his pocket when he left Kirkandrew. He had recognized Blanche, as a friend of the lady at the inn and as a person who might perhaps be turned to account, in that capacity.
Swanhaven Lodge was not half the size of Windygates; but it had been inhabited for two centuries when the foundations of Windygates were first laid and it possessed the advantages, without inheriting the drawbacks, of its age. There is in an old house a friendly adaptation to the human character, as there is in an old hat a friendly adaptation to the human head.
There he was the man of the canny eye, the fatherly manner, and the mighty nose Bishopriggs preserved in spirits and ministering at the festival at Swanhaven Lodge! Blanche had only seen him for a moment on the memorable night of the storm, when she had surprised Anne at the inn. But instants passed in the society of Bishopriggs were as good as hours spent in the company of inferior men.
The neighborhood of this town as stated on the authority of her own maid was the part of Scotland to which the rich widow contemplated removing when she left Swanhaven in two days' time. At Perth, Bishopriggs knew of more than one place in which he could get temporary employment and at Perth he determined to make his first anonymous advances to Mrs. Glenarm.
The furious savage, with the eyes that darted fire and the fist that threatened destruction, was a total stranger to him. In other words, not the man who had passed as the lady's husband at the inn. At the same time it was equally certain that he was the man involved in the compromising correspondence which Bishopriggs possessed. Mrs. Glenarm was at Swanhaven.
It meant so far as Arnold was concerned that a private conversation was about to diversify the monotony of the long Sunday evening at Ham Farm. "I have a word to say to you, Arnold," the old gentleman began, "before you become a married man. Do you remember the conversation at dinner yesterday, about the dancing-party at Swanhaven Lodge?" "Yes."
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