"Who are Sir Percy and his daughter? And who is Mrs. Baxter?"
"Sir Percy is Sir Percival Lannion Kaye-Templeman. His daughter is named Isabel. Lady Kaye-Templeman died before I was born. That's why there's a Mrs. Baxter. She's called Isabel's governess; but it's Isabel who does the governing."
"Why are they coming here?"
"The devil only knows. I'm sure they don't."
Antonio stopped dead.
"Master Edward," he said, "if you're wanting to be a wit or a rattle you shall practice on me at breakfast. But not now; not here. Why are these English people coming here with your father?"
"What's the use of asking me?" demanded young Crowberry, somewhat injured. "It's a complicated business, and I haven't brains enough to puzzle it out."
"Then use such brains as you've got. Have they bought the abbey, or taken it on lease, or what?"
"Something of that sort," pouted the young man. "The guv'nor will explain. I tell you I don't understand it."
A jangling bell announced that breakfast was ready. Young Crowberry threw up his hat and shouted for joy.