“Thank you, sir,” said the groom fervently.
“Is Dr. Farmer still at the Abbey—was he there when you left?” asked Mr. Guildford.
“Yes, sir, but I don’t think you’ll see him tonight; he was quite wore out, poor old gentleman, and I heard Miss Cicely telling him as I came away he must go to bed. He’s gettin’ on in years is the old doctor.”
“Miss Cicely” again. A passing feeling of curiosity crossed Mr. Guildford’s mind as to whom she could be. A maiden sister or aunt perhaps of Colonel Methvyn’s, who managed his household and looked after his children. The name suggested a quaint old-fashioned maiden lady, and, so far, there had been no mention of a Mrs. Methvyn. “Miss Cicely” was evidently the ruling spirit of Greystone Abbey. But it was not Mr. Guildford’s habit to obtain in formation about either people or things save from head-quarters, so he put no more questions to his communicative companion. The road was now becoming so bad that it took all the driver’s skill to avoid catastrophes.
“Do you never have any repairs done hereabouts?” inquired the stranger; “this road is really sadly in want of looking after.”
“It isn’t no road at all, sir, by rights,” replied the servant, when he had time to draw breath after the “joltiest bit” they had yet passed, “it’s only a short cut to Haverstock. Haverstock isn’t our station—not the Abbey station; by the highway, Haverstock is good six mile from us. Our station is Greybridge, but the fast trains don’t stop there, unless notice is given special; and there’s no telegraphy at Greybridge. That’s how I had to bring you such a rough way, sir; it saves four mile and more.”
“Ah! yes, I see,” said Mr. Guildford.
“We’re near home now, sir,” said the man, and the remaining few minutes were passed in silence.
It was far too dark to distinguish anything plainly. Mr. Guildford felt, rather than saw, when they turned off the road or lane into enclosed grounds; the change from the jolting and jogging they had been enduring for the last quarter of an hour to the smooth roll of a well-kept gravel drive was very pleasant.
“We’re going in by the side way, sir,” said the groom, “I left the gate open as I came out; it’s not often this way is used now.”