"Yes, he was one of the visiting R.A.'s at the Beechcroft Studio in St. John's Wood, where I worked for three years. We were then living in Blackheath—St. John's Park—a hateful place. Mr. Barnett was awfully good, when I told him we were moving, and that I wanted to live in really artistic surroundings—he suggested that I should be my own architect, and promised to do everything he could to assist me."
"And your father hadn't a say in the matter," Shiel commented, with an amused smile.
"Not in that," Gladys said complacently, "though there are one or two things in which he has a very decided say. Father can be very self-willed and obstinate, when he likes. But as I was remarking when you interrupted me—"
"I beg pardon!" Shiel murmured.
"Mr. Barnett promised to assist me. He came over here with me, and we chose this site."
"Is he an old man?" Shiel inquired, a trifle anxiously.
"Not much more than middle aged—fifty perhaps!" Gladys said, "though he looks much younger. He is still very good-looking. Well! he came over here—we chose this site, and—"
"Is he married?"
"No! Really you seem very interested in him. Perhaps you will meet him some day: he comes here a good deal. As I was saying, we chose the site together, and he supervized the plans I drew up for the garden and cottage; I don't think, perhaps, I should have thought of that avenue if it hadn't been for him!"
"At all events it does you both credit," Shiel remarked, "for a more charming house and garden I have never seen. I should like to live here all my life. I should like—" but he was interrupted by John Martin. "Come, it's time we were off," the latter called out brusquely, "time and trains wait for no man!"