“On the contrary, he made himself very agreeable to me, for he has taken Kipper off my hands.”
“What, the dog! Well, well, that’s all right! He would be a bit of a nuisance when your aunt came home. I hope he won’t get into trouble with Lady Louisa’s prize cats.”
“Oh, there is no fear of that,” I answered eagerly, “for Captain Falkland is taking Kip with him to India.”
Uncle stared at me, and gave a loud whistle.
“I say, Eva, keep that dark! If your aunt were to hear of this dog-giving, and taking, she’d—anyway, there’d be wigs on the green!”
CHAPTER VII
THE FAMILY SKELETON
Mrs. Paget-Taylor, whose society had been so urgently recommended by my aunt, was the wife of uncle’s agent, Captain Paget-Taylor, a broad-shouldered, long-headed, active man of fifty, a first-rate farmer and a celebrated shot. His consort was a little dark woman endowed with extraordinary animation, tact and capability. Her house was comfortable and well appointed, her cook a treasure, her delightful drawing-room furnished with most inviting sofas and chairs, delicious cushions, stacks of flowers, and softly shaded lamps. This apartment was the council chamber and scene of many important conferences, for Mrs. Paget-Taylor was a power in the neighbourhood. From her kidney-shaped writing table she pulled many strings and was credited with an ample supply of what is known as “interest.” Her activities, although of the same genre, were on a different scale to those of Lizzie Puckle. Whilst Lizzie harangued school children, took the chair at meetings, got up rummage sales, and shepherded outlying hamlets, Mrs. Paget-Taylor merely held interviews and confidential conversations. She was known to be exceedingly insidious and persuasive, and I may say at once that she was my aunt’s right hand! My relative referred to Mrs. Paget-Taylor on every question and in every crisis—whether it was the matter of a new kitchen range or a prospective son-in-law; and, as the agent’s wife had no family and ample leisure, she was in a position to throw herself heart and soul into other people’s affairs.
No one in the whole neighbourhood was so popular as Mrs. Paget-Taylor; she was always agreeable, well dressed, helpful, and sympathetic. Half the girls and the young married women laid their miseries before her, and she might almost be said to have kept a high-class registry office for marriages and situations!
When I arrived at Torrington the lady happened to be away from home. A week later I received a note from the Dower House, inviting me down to tea. Naturally I accepted with pleasure, although I impressed upon myself as I walked across the park that I must be very cautious and not give myself away, or burst into impulsive confidences, as had been the case in my last tête-à-tête.
Mrs. Paget-Taylor invited me partly from good nature, and partly in order to hold an inspection, on which to report on me elsewhere. As I entered, the atmosphere of the place seemed to exude warmth and comfort; the flagged entrance hall was covered with a thick carpet, heated by a great log fire, and furnished with old oak chests and chairs. Somehow I liked the feel of the place!