The Ponson case

Freeman Wills Crofts
The dying sun of a July evening shone rosily on the old Georgian house of Luce Manor, mellowing the cold grey of the masonry, bringing out with soft shadow its cornices and mouldings, and softening and blurring its hard outlines. A fine old house, finely set on the summit of a low hill, and surrounded by wonderful old trees, it seemed to stand symbolical of the peace, security, and solid comfort of upper-class rural England.
This impression was not lessened by the outlook from the terrace in front. Below, and already shadowed by the trees beyond from the sun’s rays, was a small Dutch garden, its walks and beds showing up faintly in the gathering gloom. To the right the drive swept off in an easy curve until it disappeared between two rows of beeches, celebrated in all the county round for their age and size. At the side of the house, and reached through a rose pergola, was the walled English garden, with its masses of colour, its laden bushes, and its range of glass houses. In front, beyond the lawn, whose oaks and elms stood singly like sentinels guarding the house, the country rolled away to a line of distant hills, while to the left, an opening in the trees gave a glimpse of the Cranshaw River, with behind a near horizon of tree-covered slopes.
Within, in a large room panelled in black oak, the master of the house sat at dinner. He was alone, the only other members of the household, his wife and his daughter Enid, being from home on a visit. Sir William Ponson, a self-made man, had retired from business some ten years before our story opens and, selling his interest in the large ironworks of which he was head, had bought Luce Manor and settled down to end his days in the rôle of a country squire. Though obviously a nouveau riche , and still retaining the somewhat brusque manners of his hard, northern upbringing, he had nevertheless been received with more cordiality into the local society than usually happens in such cases. For Sir William, though he had thus risen in the social scale, remained a simple, honourable, kindly old man, a little headstrong and short tempered perhaps, but anxious to be just, and quick to apologise if he found himself in the wrong.