[MRS PETRE.]
IN TWO CHAPTERS.—CHAPTER I.
'Is that the house?' asked a young woman of a decent-looking old man who was standing, rake in hand, by the entrance-gates leading to a small villa-like residence, with nothing out of the common in itself to attract special attention.
'Yes, that's the very house,' he replied, taking off his hat, and wiping away with a red cotton pocket-handkerchief the dew from his forehead—'that's it.'
I happened to be passing by just when the question was asked and answered, and involuntarily turned to glance at the edifice, which was evidently connected with some story or other; but being a stranger in that part of England, and only on a short visit to some old friends of mine—Mr and Mrs Langley by name—I had no idea what could have made so modest a mansion famous. My sex being some excuse for my curiosity, I asked Mr Langley that evening if by the place in question there hung a tale; and the result of my inquiry was the following strange story.
'It had been vacant for some years,' began Mr Langley, 'when one day a very sallow-complexioned woman of over sixty years of age called at the office of Mr Daly the house-agent in Lynton—the nearest town—and asked him if he had any detached houses of moderate rent and dimensions that could be immediately obtained. The only stipulations she made were, that it was to be taken by the year only, and must be furnished. The rent, if necessary, would be paid in advance, and a banker's reference given. Hilton Lodge, which had hitherto hung somewhat heavily on Mr Daly's hands, was immediately mentioned. The woman, who gave her name as Mrs Danton, accompanied the agent to view it, and being satisfied, at once agreed to take it.
"It is not for myself exactly," she explained, "though I shall live here. It is for an invalid cousin of mine—an old lady—Mrs Petre. I reside with her—manage her affairs in fact—and—take care of her."
"There is no mental derangement?" queried Mr Daly, alarmed by the measured way in which Mrs Danton enunciated her sentence.
"O dear, no," she replied; "but she is depressed—very much depressed—in spirits. She has met with some severe money losses lately, owing to a scoundrel of a nephew of hers who had behaved badly. Happily, however, she has an annuity of a thousand a year, of which he could not deprive her; but it has been a severe shock to her, and at times she almost needs supervision."