Well-merited the name, Cyprian thought, as the solid old turret towers rose at last, picked out in inky silhouette against the flaming aftermath of sunset cloud.
Upon the flight of black marble steps a child was standing; a miniature bull's-eye lamp in his hands. He had evidently been trying to light it with the aid of a box of matches which would not strike.
A footman came down the stairs as the car drew up, and his expression of surprise gave way to placid recognition of its lady-occupant.
"Her ladyship said she was expecting you, Madam, but did not think that you would be arriving till Wednesday."
"I have brought a friend of hers with me," Miss Trefusis told him. "Where is she?"
The man did not answer; he had turned back to speak to his colleagues, now gathering about the limousine.
Jardine, the old butler, with the forceful impassive face, informed them that her ladyship should be told. He left them before the hall fire and glided away.
"I always regard him as a sort of Keeper of the Keys," whispered Miss Trefusis, hysterical with fatigue and achievement.
Cyprian took out his watch as if suddenly reminded of something, but he did not look at the time; only at the securing ring of a small gold key dangling from the watch-chain.
"He has been in the Family so many years," went on Aunt Brillianna, "that Ferlie says he believes himself a kind of Influence on the Greville-Mainwaring destinies."