Miss Chressham pulled the bell.
"For other reasons?" she repeated.
Lady Lyndwood's answer came wearily through the twilight.
"The estate, you know," she complained. "I vow it worries me. Since Mr. Langham left us we have had no steward. I wrote to Rose he must come and see after it; he is aware from Mr. Langham when he gave up his accounts that the value of the land is decreasing, or whatever the term may be."
"And what does Rose say?"
"Rose laughed, of course, and Mr. Langham——"
"Oh—he," cried the girl impatiently, "I know that he sold Brenton Farm at half its value, and the crops, too, always!"
"Perhaps so," Lady Lyndwood laughed vaguely, "but one must have someone. Rose should come himself and put a person he can trust into the place, for really I cannot be worried."
"We understand so little about it," said Miss Chressham sadly, "and Rose tells us nothing."
"My dear!" the Countess protested. "Rose has managed his own affairs since he was eighteen. His fortune is his own concern, and it would be mightily ill-bred of him to trouble the ladies of his family with the buying and selling of horses and dogs."