“Miss Lindley!” he said. He came up and shook hands with me warmly. “Pray sit down,” he added. “Sit here, near the fire. What a cold, miserable day we are having. You are all quite well at home, I hope; how is your mother?”
“My mother is well, thank you, Mr Gray. My brother Jack has been ill, but he is better now.”
“I am glad of that,” replied Mr Gray. “And now, can I do anything for you, Miss Rosamund? You know I shall be delighted.”
When Mr Gray said this I suddenly knew what I had come to see him for.
“I want to go over Cousin Geoffrey’s house,” I said. “Have you the key, and if so, will you entrust it to me? I will promise not to injure anything.”
The moment I made this request Mr Gray’s face brightened, and an almost eager look came into his eyes.
“Have you any—any particular reason for wishing to see the house?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” I replied. “No very special reason. Just a desire, to see the old place once again.”
The lawyer had deep-set and piercing eyes. They darted a quick glance at me. He sighed impatiently.
“My late client was very eccentric,” said Mr Gray. “Eccentric in life, more eccentric, perhaps, with regard to his last will and testament. Miss Lindley—you have no—no clue for instance—with regard to the heirs?”