Miss Crown was in her room and would not be able to see
any one that night. She was very nervous and "upset," explained the
maid, and had given orders to admit no one. Of course, Hilda went
on to say, if Mr. Thane wanted to come in and rest himself, or if
there was anything she or the cook could do for him,--but Courtney
brusquely interrupted her to say that he was sure Miss Crown did
not mean to exclude him, and directed Hilda to take word up to her
that he was downstairs.
"It won't do any good," said Hilda, who was direct to say the least.
"She's gone to bed. My orders is not to disturb her."
"Are they her orders or Mrs. Strong's orders?" demanded Courtney,
driven to exasperation.
"All I can say, sir, is they're MY orders, sir," replied Hilda,
quite succinctly.
"All right," said he curtly. Then, as an afterthought: "Please say
that I stopped in to see if I could be of any further service to
Miss Crown, will you, Hilda?"
He was very much crestfallen as he made his way down the steps to
the lane. This wasn't at all what he had expected.
There were a number of people near the gate. Instead of going
directly down the walk, he turned to the right at the bottom of the
terrace and cut diagonally across the lawn. Coming to one of the
big oaks he sat down for a moment on the rustic seat that encircled
its base. Sheltered from the wind he managed to strike a match and
light a cigarette.
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