“The point occurred to me—that’s all—go on!”
“Well—that’s all,” concluded Stewart. “The word ‘will’ was never mentioned—I left my father hoping that he would cool down and see things eventually from my point of view—and Marjorie’s.”
“When Miss Lennox came to tell you your father wanted you, did she seem upset or distressed at all?”
Stewart reflected for a second or two. “No,” he declared. “But I’ll tell you what I did notice about her—her cheeks were very flushed—as though she were laboring under great excitement—I certainly did notice that.”
Anthony rose and walked across to one of the tables. He picked up a dainty piece of glass—almost gossamer-like in its texture and quality.
“You understand, don’t you? I want that announcement about closing the house up to be made to-night. Inform all the servants—arrange with Llewellyn and Miss Lennox on the lines that I suggested—see Butterworth about taking charge during the time you will be away—’phone Colonel Leach-Fletcher—in short make all the necessary arrangements as soon as possible. If it could be managed—don’t come back to the house after the funeral. What a lovely piece of glass this is!” He rang his finger nail against its edge.
“Very well,” said Stewart. “I will do exactly as you wish.”
“I’m obliged,” returned Anthony. He walked to the door—then stopped and looked back at Stewart. “By the way,” he exclaimed, “would you kindly arrange for me to have a word with young O’Connor before he goes for his unexpected month’s holiday?”
CHAPTER XXIII.
When the Cat’s Away
“Goodall,” murmured Anthony, “I shall never be able to forget entirely the look on your face this afternoon when I asked you to fall in with my arrangements. It was an education on its own—really in some ways I regard it as sufficient reward in itself for the trouble I have taken over the matter. Have another slice of this cold lamb. You too, Daventry!”