Edwin nodded to himself in approval of Lady Wyke's cleaning-up and restoration, then walked up the neat path and rang the bell. When a. sedate-looking footman introduced him into the hall he shivered a little, at the memory of the late tragedy, but recovered himself when shown into the drawing-room. This, was upstairs, the very room where Oliver Lemby had been waiting on that fatal night. But it presented quite a different appearance now from what it did then, although the visitor did not know this. Formerly dusty and untidy when attended to by Mrs. Vence, it was now cheerful, bright, and comfortable. A fire was burning in the grate, there was a new and brilliant carpet, while the old-fashioned furniture had been renovated and polished so as to look like new. Showy coloured rugs and draperies made the vast apartment look gay, and everywhere there were hothouse flowers of rainbow hues. The scent of pastilles burning in bronze vases made the atmosphere languid, indisposing those who breathed it to transformation from gloom to brightness as had taken place in Maranatha.
And the author of the transformation rose from a sofa on which she was reclining to greet her visitor. "I am so glad to see you," she said softly, and he noted that her shrill voice was now low and gentle. "I feared you would not come."
But Edwin was not to be taken in by her wiles, and only lightly touched her hand outstretched in greeting. "I certainly came, Lady Wyke," he observed, coldly, "because your letter intimated that you wished to speak to me about something connected with the death of your late husband."
"Does that interest you?" she asked, indicating a seat and sinking down on to the sofa.
"Surely. You hinted to Miss Lemby that her father had something to do with the matter, and for Miss Lemby's sake I am interested."
"Can't we leave the name of that girl out of the conversation?"
"I think not," said Craver, still coldly. "You forget that it is on behalf of her father that I have come. You threatened, both in London and on the cliffs the other day to do him harm."
"Oh!" Lady Wyke's brows contracted in a frown, "so that girl told you of our conversation on the cliffs?"
"Yes. About an hour or so ago. In fact, the moment I arrived as you might say, she told me everything."
"Everything?" repeated the woman, with emphasis.