Mr. Fitzherbert bowed.
“And you are charged with a mission of a peculiar kind to Strathoran. Might I beg you to explain its nature to Mrs. Catherine Douglas, a lady who is deeply interested in your friend’s friend, Mr. Sutherland.”
The stranger looked perplexed, gracefully confused, and hung back, as if in embarrassment and diffidence.
“The fact is, Madam, I am placed in quite a peculiar position—a mission strictly confidential, intrusted to me—friendly inquiries—which I have no authority to divulge. I beg I may not be questioned further.”
“Mr. Fitzherbert, fortunately, was less delicate with me, Mrs. Catherine,” said Mr. Foreman. “Mr. Sutherland, Madam, is in treaty for the sale of Strathoran—for some portion of the estate, at least, and this gentleman is commissioned to report upon it, as he tells me, before the bargain is completed.”
“Not fair—against all principles of honor,” exclaimed Mr. Fitzherbert. “A mis-statement, Madam, I assure you; merely some shooting-grounds. Mr. Sutherland is no sportsman himself, and my friend, Lord Gillravidge, is a keen one. Amicable exchange—nothing more.”
Mrs. Catherine stood firmly erect; gazing into the blank air. The shock was great to her; for some moments she neither moved nor spoke.
“I appeal to yourself, Madam,” resumed the stranger. “I investigate farms and fields. I, fresh from the most refined circles: do I look like a person to report upon clods and cattle?”
The voice startled Mrs. Catherine from her fixed gravity.
“I will come to you by-and-by, Mr. Foreman,” she said. “Gather the story as clear as may be—at present, I cannot be troubled with strangers.”