"He ought to give his daughter the estates," said Patricia decidedly.
"Well, I am not so sure of that, my dear. You see, from what Martha said, it seems that Mara Colpster is queer."
"How do you mean 'queer'?"
"She is--that is, they think her,--Really," Mrs. Sellars broke off with a puzzled look, "I hardly know what to say. She's queer, that's all about it, for Martha told me very little. I rather think the Squire wants her to marry either Basil or Theodore; then justice would be done all round. But here I am talking," cried Mrs. Sellars, rising slowly to her feet, "when there is so much to be done with getting poor Martha ready for her last journey. I have to see the undertaker and his men, my dear," and Mrs. Sellars waddled away in a great hurry.
Patricia wondered what Mr. Colpster wished to see her about, and wondered also what could be the matter with the girl so oddly termed Mara. This last piece of curiosity was not gratified for some days, but she learned the first two hours later when Squire Colpster interviewed her in Mrs. Sellars' private sitting-room. What he said to her took her breath away.
"I return to Beckleigh to-morrow with the corpse of my housekeeper," said the Squire in his dry way, "and it struck me that you might be willing to come with me to Devonshire."
"Come with you, Mr. Colpster?" gasped Patricia, thunderstruck.
"Yes," he said, simply and directly. "You see, Martha is dead, and I want someone both to look after the house and to be a companion to my daughter."
"To Mara?" queried Patricia, remembering what Mrs. Sellars had said.
"Ah! you know her name." The Squire looked up quickly.