He seated her in the glorious oriel window at the end, with its beautiful tracery and fine glass, and put her feet up on the window seat. The lower part of the window was open and revealed a wonderful view of the rolling purple moors, while in the foreground was the glassy moat, blue as the heaven above, bright and beautiful, as though nothing untoward had ever happened there.
“It is a nice, quiet retreat this,” he said, “but it was more suited to your great-great-grandfather who built it than to me. My father used to spend a great deal of time here as a young man, but latterly he was almost entirely at his other place in Devon as it suited his health. Of course that has gone now; we are living in hard times, although we still hold the old Middleton property, which is our principal estate; Holwick is only a very small place. But he always took an interest in this library and right up to the last he used to send books up here to add to the collection, but his own visits here must have been very rare.”
“What was my great-grandmother like, did you ever see her, sire?” said Aline.
“Yes, Aline Gillespie was a very beautiful woman, and exceedingly clever. She was also very gentle and a universal favourite. My great-grandfather, James Mowbray, was almost heartbroken when she married, although he was warmly attached to your great-grandfather, Angus, but it meant that she had to go and live in Scotland. My grandfather was fond of her, too, although he was always a little bit jealous.”
“Do you remember her, sire?”
“I saw her now and then and remember that she used to give me presents, one was this well-wrought Italian buckle, which I still wear on my belt. She was very fond of books too, and there was some talk of my great-grandfather having intended to leave her half the books in this library; but he died rather suddenly and I imagine, therefore, that he had not time to carry out his intention.”
“I suppose then that she would often sit where I am sitting now. How interesting it is to picture it all.”
“Oh, yes, she had a special ambry in the wall, that old James Mowbray had made for her. It is there behind that panel, with the small ornamental lock. I think that the key of it will be about somewhere. The library keys used to be kept in the little drawer in this table at the end.”
“I did not know that there was a drawer,” said Aline.