"You most certainly have! Your duty is as plain as a smoke-stack. You might add that she's causing serious inconvenience to her late husband's only nephew."
"You really don't mean that?" he inquired anxiously.
"Oh, thunder, no!"
I had forgotten how trying Torrence could be. He now suggested that we summon Antoine and take a look at the house. Torrence is a conscientious fellow with an exact and orderly mind, and there was no corner of the place from cellar to garret that we didn't explore. It was highly creditable to the old Tyringham servants that the house was thoroughly habitable. All that need be done before Mrs. Bashford arrived was to lay linen on the beds and take the jackets from the furniture; a couple of hours would suffice, Antoine said.
As we were on our way down-stairs the old fellow detained me a moment.
"Have you told him about the parties? Pardon me, sir," he whispered, "but him and the trust company is responsible. I thought likely you'd tell him."
I shook my head in angry rejection of the idea that I should tell Torrence about "the parties," and dismissed him as soon as we reached the hall.
"I suggest," said Torrence, "that when she comes you have flowers in all the rooms; the conservatory will supply enough. And it occurs to me that the more inconspicuous you make this bunch of lazy dependents the more agreeable it will be for Mrs. Bashford."
"You don't expect much of me! It was never in the contract that I should become the patriarch of these venerable relics. But I'll warn them to conceal themselves as much as possible. I fully expect to leave the reservation for good just one hour after the lady arrives."
"That's your affair, of course. As she's motoring, we can't just time her arrival, but when I get a wire that she's on the way I'll telephone you. And, of course, after she gets here I'll come at once to pay my respects."