"There might be time," was the reply, "but that's not the difficulty. Mr. Isaacs is the difficulty."
"Who is Mr. Isaacs?" I asked.
"He's the Jewish gentleman who bought the Gate House recently. Lots of money he's got and a big motor car. He's up and down to London almost every day in the week, but he won't let anybody take photographs of the house. I know several who've asked."
"But I thought," said Carneta, innocently, "you said the old gentleman who was here on Wednesday went to take some?"
"He went, yes, miss; but I don't know if he succeeded."
Carneta poured out some tea.
"Now that you speak of it," she said, "I too have heard that the Gate House is very picturesque. What objection can Mr. Isaacs have to photographers?"
"Well, you see, miss, to get a picture of the house, you have to pass right through the grounds."
"I should walk right up to the house and ask permission. Is Mr. Isaacs at home, I wonder?"
"I couldn't say. He hasn't passed this way to-day."