"That's all right, then," agreed Mostyn, "I shall manage quite well for myself after you have gone." He turned and settled with the driver of his cab, paying him liberally out of the fulness of his heart, and then requested Samuel Willis to lead the way into the house. His luggage—such as it was, for he had not thought well to bring much with him, being uncertain as to the length of his stay—had already been carried into the hall.
"You know all about my having become the owner of the Grange?" Mostyn said, as he followed the gardener. "I suppose Messrs. Chester and Smithers gave you the full particulars."
"Yes, sir," returned the man civilly, "but we did not expect that you would be coming down so soon, or I should have been on the look out for a letter."
Mostyn made some complimentary remark about the garden, and then added with a laugh, "I understood that the house was in a dilapidated condition, a sort of ruin, in fact. I am pleasantly surprised to find it so well kept."
"It's better from the outside than within," returned Willis, "as you will see for yourself, sir. My wife does her best, but there's more work than one woman can manage. There are only some four or five rooms furnished, and the others—well, they would need a lot of doin' up before they could be occupied. As for the garden—well, I can manage that, and I love my flowers."
Mostyn was staring round the hall in which he stood. It was square of shape, panelled in oak, and a gallery ran round two sides of it—a gallery which was approached by an uncarpeted flight of stairs at the far end. There was but little furniture, though everything that Mostyn's eyes rested upon was quaint and old-fashioned. There were high-backed chairs, elaborately carved, a great oaken coffer, and a fine old grandfather's clock, the loud ticking of which sounded pleasantly to the ear. The fireplace was large in proportion to the size of the hall, and the hearth was broad; there were delightful ingle nooks to either side of it. Against the opposite wall there was an organ, a small affair, and evidently of modern make: its pipes, which had been gilded and painted, were now discoloured, and harmonised quaintly with the more antique decorations of the hall. The floor was uncarpeted, but a few fine rugs, bear and tiger skins, lay about. A large lamp was suspended in the centre, and Samuel Willis now occupied himself with the lighting of this, for the dusk was closing in.
There were two other rooms upon the ground floor which had been furnished, and these were just as quaint and old-fashioned, both in design and equipment as the hall itself. The broad oaken beams that traversed the ceilings indicated their age. Of the two, the drawing-room presented the greater semblance of comfort and modernity. It had pretty chintz furniture, comfortable arm-chairs, and the pictures on the walls were bright water-colour landscapes. The walls themselves, above the oaken panelling, were distempered in white, and, unlike the other rooms, there was a good carpet covering the whole floor. The windows gave direct access to the garden, and as it stood partly open, the scent of roses was pleasantly wafted to Mostyn's nostrils. There were a couple of shaded lamps, which the gardener proceeded to light, and some of the tall vases that stood upon the mantel-piece and in other parts of the room had been filled with bunches of great red roses; Mostyn imagined that this had been a kindly attention upon the part of Willis, and felt grateful to the man.
The dining-room was not altogether so cheerful an apartment. It was panelled from floor to ceiling in oak, which in places was very palpably rotting away. There were no pictures upon the wall, nor any attempt at the lighter ornamentations which prevailed in the other room; the ceiling was dingy and discoloured between the great beams which traversed it, and the floor was carpetless—little holes appearing here and there in the boards close against the wainscotting—to Mostyn's mind, unpleasantly suggestive of rats. A fine table occupied the centre of the room, and upon this a white cloth had already been spread.
"I've done my best about your dinner, sir," Willis said deprecatingly, "but I'm afraid, since I had no notice of your coming, that there is not much that I can do. I don't understand cookin'——"
"Never mind," Mostyn laughed, "I can manage with anything you've got, or can go down to the inn for the matter of that."