"I must see after my unpacking," she said, "but I should very much like Mr. Thain to come. Do try to persuade him."
The Duchess and her brother strolled up the garden and out of the postern gate into the park.
"That's a terrible old man of yours, Reginald," the former observed, glancing over her shoulder. "I never came across such a person off the boards at Drury Lane."
"He is an infernal nuisance," the Marquis grumbled. "It seems absurd, but he gets on my nerves. Day by day, there he sits, wet or fine. You can't see his lips move, but you can always feel sure that he is hunting up choice bits of damnation out of the Old Testament and hurling them across at me."
"I have come to the conclusion," his sister decided, "that he is out of his mind. An ignorant man who lives with one idea all his life is apt to lose his reason. He has never attempted any violence, has he?"
"Never," the Marquis replied, "but since you have mentioned it, Caroline, I always have a queer sensation when I am that side of the house. It is just about the distance to be picked off nicely with a rifle. I can't think why he doesn't do it—why he contents himself with abuse."
"I am going to consult Mr. Thain about him," his companion said. "A man of his robust common sense is much more likely to influence a lunatic like Vont than you or I.—So this is where our millionaire hermit is hidden," she went on, as they reached the gate. "Dear me, the place has changed!"
"It will soon be in order again," the Marquis observed. "Thain has a dozen men at work in the grounds, and he is having the rooms done up, one by one. He lives in the library, I think, and the bedroom over it."
They passed through the plantation and into the gardens. Thain was there, talking to one of the workmen. He came to meet them with a somewhat forced smile of welcome upon his lips.
"This is very unexpected," he declared, as he shook hands. "I should have called upon you this afternoon, Duchess."