“Oh, I would not say that, though it is a little curious that you should have been some weeks in Cartordale without hearing about Ronald Thoyne.”
“Well, apparently I have heard about him,” I replied, “or I shouldn’t be asking you questions regarding him.”
“I am not exactly one of his intimates,” Dr. Crawford said. “He is an American who fought in the war with the French Army before the Yanks came in. He was wounded or gassed, or possibly it was shell-shock. At all events he came to England and was for some time in hospital, but he seems perfectly fit again now. He settled here at Lennsdale, which stands away up there on the hill-side. You can just see the house through that opening. He is certainly wealthy and gives generously, which is perhaps one reason why he is popular round here. He is bluff and hearty, but rather too ready with his fists to fit our modern notions of law and order. A good man to avoid a quarrel with, I should imagine. He is very strong on the war and indignant with his own country for holding off as long as she did. That is about as near a character-sketch as I can give you.”
“Good. I must make his acquaintance. Is he very friendly with Miss Kitty Clevedon?”
“Well, there have been rumours—matrimonial—but nothing definite. If they are formally engaged I haven’t heard of it.”
The doctor turned into a small cottage standing by the roadway, and I walked on alone to Stone Hollow.
CHAPTER VI
A NEW SENSATION
It was in Dr. Crawford’s surgery the day before the resumed inquest that I met Lady Clevedon again. A little to my surprise she recognised me, though, as far as I knew, she had only seen me in the dark, and greeted me by name.
“I wanted to know you, Mr. Holt,” the old lady said. “You were a popular theme of conversation when your aunt’s will became known, and everybody wondered what this London nephew might be like.”
“May I suppose that he, even though distantly, approaches expectation?” I said.