The Duchess, brimful of common sense and good humour, brave as a lion and ready of tongue as she was, felt a little giddy, and clung to the rail as she crossed the little bridge over the moat. She looked back only once. Richard Vont remained standing just as she had left him—grim, motionless, menacing.
CHAPTER XXX
The Marquis glanced at the note which was handed to him at luncheon time, frowned slightly and handed it across to Letitia.
"What have you people been doing to Thain?" he asked a little irritably. "He doesn't want to come to dinner."
The Duchess and Sylvia, who had just arrived on her projected visit, made no attempt to conceal their disappointment. Letitia picked, up the note and read it indifferently.
"I am very sorry, aunt," she said. "I gave him all the notice I could."
"There is perhaps some misunderstanding," the Marquis remarked. "In any case, he would not know that you were here for so short a time, Caroline. After luncheon I will walk across and see him."
"I will go with you," the Duchess decided. "I should like to see Broomleys again. As a matter of fact, I meant to go there this morning, but I found one call enough for me."
They took their coffee in the garden. Letitia followed her father to a rose bush which he had crossed the lawn to examine.