The next morning Lady Kesters left Brodfield by the ten o’clock train for London, having previously inspected the celebrated green gem at the garage. She even got into it, examined it critically, and laughed as she descended.
“Oh, what a take in! What a shame to have cheated those poor old women! Why, Owen, I believe it must be years and years old!”
“And a bad machine always; strong when you want it to be weak, and weak when it should be strong. Some of these days it will play me a trick, I’m sure.”
“What, that old bone-shaker! No, no. Well, I’m afraid you must soon be starting—as you say Miss Parrett awaits you, watch in hand—and so must I. It’s been awfully good to see you, and find you are getting on so well—‘a chauffeur almost to the manner born.’ Martin takes a profound interest in our enterprise.”
“He keeps me supplied with lots of tobacco and A1 cigars. Tell him that Miss Susan asked me if I got them in the village? and Miss Parrett, who is as sharp as a razor, inquired how I could afford to buy them? I ventured to offer a couple to the doctor—I told him they were a present; he took them like a lamb, and asked no questions.”
“What! does a lamb smoke? Well, I’ll tell Martin how much his offerings are appreciated, and that you really are fit—and quite happy, eh?”
“Yes, tell him that neither of you need worry about me; I’m all right at Ottinge.”
But when, an hour later, Lady Kesters gazed meditatively on the flying Midlands, with her thoughts concentrated upon her brother, she was by no means so sure, that he was all right at Ottinge!
CHAPTER XVIII
THE REASON WHY
Whilst Ottinge had been dozing through lovely summer days, Aurea Morven was enjoying a certain amount of the gay London season. General and Mrs. Morven had no family—Aurea was their only young relative, the Parretts’ only niece, the parson’s only child; and, though she was the light of the Rectory, he was not selfish, and shared and spared her company. Besides, as Mrs. Morven said, “Edgar had his literary work, his large correspondence, his parish, and Jane Norris to look after him, and it was out of the question to suppose that a girl with such beauty and attractiveness was to be buried in an out-of-the-way hole like Ottinge-in-the-Marsh—although her father and her aunts did live there!” Mrs. Morven, a masterful lady on a large scale, who carried herself with conscious dignity, looked, and was a manager—a manager of ability. She was proud of the general’s pretty niece, enjoyed chaperoning her and taking her about, and anticipated her making a notable match; for, besides her pretty face, and charming, unspoiled nature, Aurea was something of an heiress.