"Mrs. Cricklade got the clerk to look in some books that are kept in the church, and they said if any Garlands had been married, or baptized, or buried in Fairford, it would be written in those books."
"And a very stupid book that must be," interrupted Ollie, gravely.
"And Mrs. Cricklade spoke to Mr. Needham, the lawyer, and to one or two old people, and to the police; and she says when the rector comes home she will speak to him too."
"Well, we'll ask leave to look over the list of the people who have lived in Lady Mabel's Rest for the last twenty years; and then when we have had our dinner, we will have a talk and see what more may be done."
By this time they had reached the open road, and in a few minutes more they arrived at the gate of the Rest. Ollie asked rather nervously if the man at the gate would surely let them out again; but Ruth was delighted with the orderly look, the gardens and neat houses.
Mrs. Short was sunning herself at her open window, having just eaten her dinner, and very like a large tortoiseshell cat she looked, as she sat blinking in her easy chair, half asleep. But she was wide awake in a moment when she saw Ralph and his two companions; in fact, having perceived that Ralph did not return home as usual after church, she had stationed herself in the window to watch for him, and to discover, if possible, why he had so far departed from his usual custom.
"Bless us all! Two young beggars, as I'm a living woman! And he carrying a posy as big as a broom! Why, neighbour! Mr. Trulock,—I say, don't be in such a hurry; where ever did you pick up them two little beggars?"
"We are not beggars," cried Ollie, indignantly. "We didn't ask for anything."
"These are friends of mine who are going to dine with me," said Ralph, while Ruth quieted Ollie.
"Friends!" squeaked Mrs. Short. "I didn't know you had any friends here—not such young ones as that, at least. Who are they? What's their name?"