seen the approach of the car, had reached the door she had gone.
But he was sure he had seen her. The form he had seen hovering over him on the wild, turbulent sea was plainly visible to him at the door of this old Surrey mansion. The face, too, could not be mistaken. The same calm, benign expression, the same tender mouth. Goodness, purity, guardianship, all found their expression in those features. But there was something more. The eyes which had riveted his attention and haunted his memory for months seemed to convey something different to him now from what they had then. There was still the same yearning gaze, the same melting tenderness, but there was something more. They seemed to suggest fear, warning. Dick Faversham felt as though she wanted to tell him something, to warn him against some unknown danger. It is true the feeling was indefinite and difficult to put into words; but it was there. She might, while not forbidding him to enter the house which had so unexpectedly come into his possession, be trying to tell him of dangers, of possible calamity.
"And do you say that you can see – that – that you saw nothing?" he almost gasped.
"I can see a great deal," replied Mr. Bidlake. "I can see one of the loveliest scenes in England. I can see you standing at the entrance of – but what do you mean? You look pale – frightened. Aren't you well?"
Dick opened his mouth to tell what he had seen, but he checked himself. Somehow the thought of opening his heart to this matter-of-fact lawyer seemed like sacrilege. He would not understand. He would tell him, just as Romanoff had told him weeks before, that his mind was unbalanced by the experiences through which he had passed, that the natural excitement caused by the news he had heard were too much for him, and caused him to lose his mental balance.
"Yes, I am quite well, thank you."
"Well, what do you mean? What do you think you saw?"
At that moment the door opened, and the housekeeper, who had hurried to meet them, appeared, and the lawyer did not listen to his stammering reply.
"Good-day, Mr. Bidlake," smiled the housekeeper. "I am glad you got here all right. Winkley had quite a difficulty in getting a chauffeur. I hope the one provided was satisfactory?"
"It's all right, Mrs. Winkley," and the lawyer was very patronising as he spoke; "the man brought us here safely. This," and he turned towards Dick, "is Mr. Richard Faversham, the new owner of – hem – Wendover Park, and your new – master."
"Indeed, sir," and Mrs. Winkley turned and looked nervously towards Dick, "I hope you'll be very – happy here, sir. I bid you welcome, sir."
Dick smiled with frank pleasure and shook hands – a familiarity which pleased the housekeeper, but not the lawyer.
"You got my letter, Mrs. Winkley?" Mr. Bidlake said hurriedly.
"Yes, sir, also your telephone message yesterday. Wendover Park is a lovely place, Mr. Faversham."
"It is, indeed, Mrs. Winkley. This Surrey air has given me an appetite, too."
Dick was so nervous that he hardly knew what he was saying. As he glanced around the spacious hall and tried to realise that it was his own, and as he called to mind that for the last mile he had been passing through his own property, it seemed to be too wonderful to be true.
"Yes, the air is very good, and I am glad you are hungry. Lunch will be ready in half an hour. I have prepared a bedroom for you, Mr. Faversham. I have assumed you are – staying here?"
"Rather!" and Dick laughed as he spoke. "You must excuse me if I'm a little abrupt, Mrs. Winkley. You see, I imagine it will take me some little time to settle down to the new order of things."
"I think I understand; it must be a wonderful experience for you. But I think you'll find everything all right. I have taken great care of everything since the late Mr. Faversham died. It's all just as he left it. No doubt you'll want to look over the house?"
"Presently, Mrs. Winkley; but, first of all, I want to come to an understanding with you. I am a bachelor, and I don't think I have a relation in the world, so, for a time, I – shall make no changes in the place at all. What I mean to say is, that I hope you'll continue to be my housekeeper, and – and look after me generally. Mr. Bidlake has said all sorts of good things about you, so much so that I shall regard myself very fortunate if – if you'll remain in your present position."
Dick didn't know at all why he said this, except that he had a feeling that something of the sort was expected from him.
"I'm sure it's very kind of you to say so, sir," and Mrs. Winkley smiled radiantly. "Of course I've been a little bit anxious, not knowing what kind of – of gentleman the new owner would be, or what plans he might have. But, if you think I'll suit you, sir, I'll do my utmost to make you comfortable and look after your interests. I was housekeeper to Dr. Bell of Guildford when the late Mr. Faversham's sister died, and – "
"Yes, I've heard about that," interrupted Dick. "I'm sure he was lucky to get you."
"I did my best for him, sir, and he never grumbled. I lived in these parts as a girl, so I can get you plenty of references as to the respectability of my family."
"I'm sure you can," Dick assented. He was glad that Mrs. Winkley was of the superior servant order rather than some superior person who had pretensions to being a fine lady. "By the way, of course you know the house well?"
"Know the house well?" repeated Mrs. Winkley. She was not quite sure that she understood him.
"Yes; know all the rooms?" laughed Dick nervously.
"Why, certainly, sir. I know every room from the garret to the cellar," replied Mrs. Winkley wonderingly.
"And there are no ghosts, are there?"
"Ghosts, sir? Not that I ever heard of."
"I was only wondering. It's an old house, and I was thinking that there might be a family ghost."
Mrs. Winkley shook her head. "Nothing of the sort, sir, to my knowledge. Wait a minute, though; I did hear when I was a girl that the elm grove was haunted. There's a lake down there, and there was a story years ago that a servant who had drowned herself there used to wander up and down the grove wringing her hands on Michaelmas Eve."
"And where is the elm grove?"
"It's away towards the North Lodge. You wouldn't see it the way you came, and it's hidden from here."
"But the house? There's no legend that that has ever been haunted?"
"No, sir. I suppose some of the Wendovers were very wild generations ago, but I never heard that any of their spirits ever came back again."
Mrs. Winkley was pleased that her new master kept talking so long, although she came to the conclusion that he was somewhat eccentric.
"Of course, it was foolish of me to ask," Dick said somewhat awkwardly; "but the thought struck me. By the way, how long did you say it was to lunch-time?"
"Not quite half an hour, sir," replied Mrs. Winkley, looking at an old eight-day clock. "I'll speak to the cook and get it pushed forward as fast as possible. Perhaps you'd like a wash, sir? I'll show you to your room, if you would."
"Thank you. After that I – I think, Mr. Bidlake, I'd like to go into the gardens."
He was afraid he was making a bad impression upon his housekeeper, and he was angry with himself for not acting in a more natural manner.
