Ann was sitting in the garden one morning, industriously occupied in shelling peas, when the foregoing terse wire was handed to her by the village telegraph boy. Tony’s silence throughout the last few weeks had somewhat disturbed her. She had not received a single line from him since the day he had accompanied her to Victoria station and seen her safely on board the train for Silverquay, and now her brows drew together rather anxiously as she perused this unexpected message.
The telegram had been handed in at the local post office at Lorne, so it was obvious that Tony was at home, and the only reason she could surmise for his sudden request was that he had had a rather bigger quarrel than usual with his uncle.
She scribbled an affirmative reply on the prepaid form which had accompanied the wire and dispatched it by the telegraph boy, who was waiting placidly in the sunshine—and looked as though he were prepared to wait all day if necessary. Then, when she had slit the last fat pod in her basket and shelled its contents, she picked up the bowl of shiny green peas and carried it into the kitchen where Maria was busy making bread.
“Can we do with a visitor, Maria?” she asked, flapping the flimsy pink telegram gaily in front of her. “Here’s Mr. Tony Brabazon wiring to know if we can put him up.”
“Master Tony?” Maria relapsed into the familiar appellation of the days when she had been not infrequently moved to cuff the said Master Tony’s ears with gusto, on occasions when he took nursery tea at Lovell Court and failed to comport himself, in Maria’s eyes, “as a little gentleman should.”
“Why, yes, miss, us could do with Master Tony.” Her face broadened into a beaming smile. “‘Twould be like the old days to have him back, scrawling round my kitchen again and stealing the jam pasties. Do you mind his ways when Mr. Lovell he was travelling in furrin parts an’ I was cooking for you and Master Robin? And there’s not many can better my jam pasties when I put my mind to it, though I do say it.”
“Well, you’ll have him ‘scrawling round your kitchen’ before long, I expect,” replied Ann.
Maria searched her face with kindly curiosity.
“You’m well pleased, miss, bain’t you?”
Ann smiled.