"You will always have my good opinion, if that's all you want."
He flushed up, and took a step towards her. As she awaited him with the same smile, the handle of the door turned noisily from the outside. They started guiltily away from each other.
"Then we'll see if we can get a game of billiards," remarked Isbel in a conversational voice, turning her neck to glance at the two ladies who were entering.
Marshall assented, and they at once left the room.
Chapter II THE VISIT TO RUNHILL COURT
After the breakfast on Saturday morning, Marshall brought the car round. He strolled up and down for some time, smoking, before the ladies made their appearance in the portico of the hotel. Isbel wore a new travelling-ulster with a smart check; her small, black satin hat was completed by a floating veil. Her face was powdered, and she was rather heavily scented. Mrs. Moor's short, commanding person was dressed with plain dignity. She looked the more distinguished of the two.
Isbel walked round the new car, appraising it critically, Marshall had bought it two months earlier, but delivery had been postponed until his return from America.
"Looks rather ladylike," he apologised, "but it's a devil to go."
Aunt and niece were in the best of humours. The morning was ideal for motoring, while an objective, of course, made it so much more interesting. It was hot, breathless, misty-a typical September day. The sun beat down from a cloudless sky, and the sea was like milk. Crowds of holiday-makers thronged the parade, a piano-organ up some back street was rattling out a popular tune, everyone looked in good health and free from care.
"Can we get back for lunch?" demanded the older lady.
"We'll do our best. It's about fifteen miles each way, I take it."
"Come on, then, and don't waste time."
As Isbel lightly touched Marshall 's arm in following her aunt into the back seat, she gave him an intimate smile. Their somewhat dangerous conversation of the preceding evening was forgotten, and both felt the engagement to be a wonderful thing. Climbing in behind the wheel, the underwriter's face took on a deeper colour.
They started. The girl was delighted with the easy running of the car; its power, smoothness, and silence were something impressive. She was voluptuous by nature, and enjoyed luxurious travel, just as she enjoyed every form of softness. Mrs. Moor, for her part, sat as nearly upright as the thickly-padded cushions would permit, staring severely at the throng, which gradually thinned as they approached Hove.
Their road ran through Portslade, Shoreham, and up the valley of the Adur. The sun steadily increased in power, while the morning mists insensibly dissipated. They passed from sunshine to shadow, and from shadow to sunshine, fanned all the time by their own wind. Isbel's first exhilaration faded: she wrinkled her brow, and grew dreamy, pensive, vaguely anxious. Nature always had this effect on her. Streets, ships, crowds, any form of human activity, enabled her to forget herself, but natural surroundings threw her back on her own mental resources, and then the whole emptiness and want of purpose of her life loomed up in front of her…Her aunt viewed the changing landscape sternly. These trees, these fields and meads, but, above all, those bare downs of grass-covered chalk in the background, were to her sacred. Isbel respected her mood, and made no attempt at conversation.
Presently they came to Bramber and Steyning. At the latter place Marshall slowed down to inquire the way, and was instructed to take the left-hand fork about a mile further on. Runhill Court would be, roughly, three miles north-west from that point, but the road was a complicated one.
The Downs were on their left. Chanctonbury Ring, with its crest of dark trees, dominated the whole country. The sun blazed, while a plague of flies swarmed round the car, which had to crawl as soon as they entered the puzzling network of by-lanes. They met few people, and the way was hard to pick up, in consequence of which it was already nearing twelve when at last they drew up before the lodge gate at their destination.
Beyond the gate a winding carriage drive went forward to the house, which was out of sight; it was bordered on either side by the usual shrubbery of rhododendrons, hollies, etc. on the left, again, was a rising park, containing some fine specimens of beech, while to the right a real wood appeared, the extent of which, however could not be seen. An ancient, moss-grown, red brick wall bounded the estate. On the other side of the narrow lane which passed the lodge were meadow lands, fringed by a line of tall elms, which effectually shut out the view. It was a solitary and charming spot. The air was peculiarly sweet, clean, yet heavy with fragrance.
As Marshall was in the act of getting down, a middle-aged woman emerged from the lodge. She was smoothing her dress and hair, and evidently had just removed an apron.
He produced Judge's order. The woman took it in her hand and proceeded to read it, passing her thumb under each line form side to side of the sheet, while her lips silently framed the words. She was a tall, big-boned, fresh-complexioned person, of the upper-servant type; handsome, in a common way, but with sarcastic eyes. Her hair was thick and yellow.
Having examined the signature musingly, she turned again to him.
"When did you want to see the house, sir?"
"Now, if we may."
She stared at one of the buttons of his coat. "That makes it rather awkward, sir. I gave the house-key to an American gentleman a short time back, and he's still over there. Will you wait?"
"I didn't know you admitted the general public."
"We don't, sir. This was another order, like yours."
"Someone Mr. Judge picked up on the other side, no doubt… Well, Mrs…"
"Mrs. Priday, sir."
"Well, Mrs. Priday, I don't see that it matters at all; we shan't interfere with each other. As the house is open, I suppose we can get in?"
"Oh, yes-but did you wish me to show you over?"
"If you will."
"I must find my husband first, before I can leave the lodge. He's working somewhere in the grounds; he's head gardener here. Will the ladies step inside and wait, sir?"
"Well, look here, Mrs. Priday-we're somewhat pressed for time, so if you'll open the gate we'll just run up to the house and be starting. You can follow when you're ready."
"As you please, sir," replied the caretaker, with an almost imperceptible shrug. She proceeded, without any great show of alacrity, to unlatch and swing open the carriage-gate, and meanwhile Marshall returned to the car, which a minute later passed slowly through the entrance to the drive.
Travelling at low speed, they obtained round the first bend, about three hundred yards further on, their first view of the house. It stood on high ground, and cool, dark-green lawns sloped down from it on all four sides. The front, which they approached, faced the south-east. It was a large edifice, in the Elizabethan style, but the exterior had been so renovated and smartened-perhaps by Judge-that it looked almost a modern erection. The irregular, many-gabled roof was bright with new tiles, the facing of red bricks on the ground storey had been pointed recently, while the two upper storeys were plastered with dazzling white stucco.
The house was long-fronted, possessing a double row of lattice windows overlooking the gravel terrace at the head of the lawn. A small, square wing, about thirty feet in height, jutted from the left end of the front, and appeared to belong to a different order of architecture. This was the famous thirteenth-century hall, built during the reign of the first Edward. It's steeply-pointed roof was covered with grey slates. The wide double-door was resplendent with dark green paint and highly polished brass.