Inspector Stoddart's Most Famous Cases. Annie Haynes

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      "I am sure I shan't!" Fee returned obstinately. "I hate the country."

      "I quite agree with you, Fee," Miss Lavinia interposed, entering the room. "You and I are regular town mice. I should have thought you were too, Sir Felix. What are you doing—advocating these children living in the country?"

      "Only for a time," Sir Felix said easily, explaining the whereabouts of his cottage.

      Miss Lavinia nodded her head with a certain amount of approval when he had finished.

      "Well, it does not sound exciting. But the country is healthy, though as a rule it is as dull as ditch-water," she conceded. "Yes, I think your cottage might do, Sir Felix. I will take Hilary down for a run to see it. Then, I shall just stay to settle them in, and be off to Algiers. I have had quite an exciting invitation from a friend of mine who got sick of trying to make both ends meet in England, went off to Algeria and married an Algerian or Turk or whatever they call the creatures. A Sheikh-like sort of person, you know. She has been ill lately, too much Sheikh, I suppose, and is craving to see a fellow countrywoman. It is an old-standing promise that I should pay her a visit some day; now she claims it. Most inconvenient, of course. But those old friends generally are. You say this cottage of yours is in Warwickshire, Sir Felix? About ten miles from anywhere, I suppose?"

      "It is not so very far from Warwick," Sir Felix said cheerfully. "And ten miles is nothing in these days of cars, you know, Miss Priestley."

      "It won't be much of a car that Hilary and Fee will be able to afford," the lady rejoined.

      "I always have a car down there, and it will be at their disposal," Sir Felix rejoined easily. "The cottage is just outside the gates of my house, Heathcote, you know."

      Miss Lavinia pursed up her lips as though she intended to whistle.

      "O—h! I see!" she ejaculated in a tone that spoke volumes.

      Sir Felix smiled.

      "I am seldom there nowadays. My work keeps me in town, of course. But I run down for a week-end when I can. My wife was very fond of Heathcote. It is really because of its association with her that I have kept it on. My first instinct was to get out of it as soon as possible; but I simply could not when I remembered how she loved it. Now I am very glad that I did not, for it enables me to offer the cottage to my dear friend's children."

      Miss Lavinia did not look particularly impressed.

      "Well, as I said before, I will run down with Hilary and see what I think. I can get out of the Sheikh person if needs be. Lady Skrine did not die at Heathcote, did she?"

      "No; she died in London—would come back when she began to be worse. She never believed in any doctor but John, you know. She is buried in Heathcote Churchyard, though. The loveliest churchyard in England, she always called it."

      "Hm! Well, I haven't any taste in churchyards myself," concluded Miss Lavinia. "But I will let you know what I think of the place, Sir Felix."

      The K.C. felt himself dismissed. He did not look particularly pleased as he went across the hall to the surgery. Here he found Basil Wilton studying the case book with a puzzled frown. His face did not lighten as he glanced up.

      "Good morning, Sir Felix!"

      "Good morning!" the K.C. responded curtly. "I looked in to tell you that the practice is sold to a Dr. Rifton, who will not require you as assistant; so that, if you can make it convenient—"

      "I shall be glad to get away as soon as possible," Wilton said in tones as curt as Skrine's own. "I have something else in view."

      "I am glad to hear that," Skrine rejoined coldly. "One word more, Mr. Wilton. I understand that Dr. Bastow forbade any engagement between you and his daughter; that in fact he dismissed you as soon as you broached the subject to him. For the next year, until she comes of age, I stand to Miss Bastow in loco parentis. And I am sure you will recognize that it will be my desire to respect her father's wishes in every way. Therefore, I must ask you not to attempt to see Miss Bastow while she is in my charge."

      Wilton drew in his lips and his grey eyes looked defiant, but he did not reply, and after a moment Skrine went out of the room with a barely perceptible nod.

      The next day was fine and warm with the delicious freshness of the first days of early summer. Just the day for a trip into the country, Miss Lavinia decided, and she insisted on taking Hilary to see the cottage of which Sir Felix had spoken.

      Hilary was rather inclined to sympathize with Fee's dislike to leaving London. But since her father's death she had been too apathetic to raise any very serious objection to anything.

      She sat in her corner of the railway carriage without speaking, or looking at the illustrated papers with which she had been liberally supplied by Sir Felix Skrine.

      Her aunt made a few tentative remarks and then, receiving but monosyllabic answers, drew out a pocket-book and occupied herself in making some apparently abstruse calculations therein. Heathcote was reached after a quick run. The village stood some distance from the station, but Skrine's car met the train and they were very soon at their destination.

      As they passed the cottages in the village street Hilary began, for the first time, to show some interest in their errand.

      "I wonder what our cottage will be like," she said, gazing from the black and white raftered homesteads standing back in the fields to the cottages fringing the roadside, with their thatched roofs and gay little gardens in front, just now bright with purple lilac and golden laburnum, pink and white may, looking like gigantic rose-bushes, and pink flowering currants.

      In the middle of the village the church stood on a hill, a little back from the street, its rustic lich-gate at the end of a slanting road.

      Hilary looked at it wistfully. Her godfather was right.

      "It is one of the prettiest churchyards I have ever seen. I wish Dad had been buried here instead of in that great London cemetery."

      "Don't suppose he would care twopence where he was buried," Miss Lavinia remarked unsympathetically. "I am sure I don't. In fact I have no fancy for being buried at all if you come to that."

      Hilary ignored the interruption.

      "I should like to see Lady Skrine's grave before we go back."

      As she spoke, the car stopped. The cottage was, apparently, surrounded by a high hedge concealing a brick wall from sight. The man got down and, unlocking the high wooden gate, held it open invitingly.

      "I'm afraid Fee won't like this," Hilary sighed softly, and passed in. "He is so fond of looking at the passers-by. Still," brightening up, "the garden will be so good for him, and in the summer we shall be able to wheel his chair to the gate."

      "Yes, I am sorry for the boy, taken from all his interests. But I suppose it had to be and he will get used to it as everybody else has to."

      The garden was a tangle of colour. Flowering trees concealed the wall from sight; the lawn, deliciously green and fresh, was quite the right size for tennis or croquet, as Hilary remarked. There was a rustic porch covered with sweet-briar and red ramblers which presently would be a riot of brilliance. The cottage itself was a quaint, raftered, irregularly roofed little building.

      The chauffeur СКАЧАТЬ