They were in the great hall now. She walked them straight through it into their own sitting room beyond and there she settled them in their chairs. Once she could get behind their backs she wiped her eyes hastily with her handkerchief and tidied the books on the table as she talked.
“I can’t bear for strangers to see the castle except when it’s at its best — it’s what he is, that American, only a stranger — and I wish he’d stayed at home. Ah well, I shan’t hurry myself for him anymore, wherever he’s wandering.”
“Stop worrying yourself, Kate,” Lady Mary said mildly, “and tell Wells to bring us some tea. I feel quite faint.”
“He’ll bring it, my lady, and if you’ll excuse me, I will go about the grounds and see that the men aren’t tearing everything to bits.”
She left them, stopping in the hall to look at herself in the mirror, for after all she’d been through she had no doubt that she wanted tidying herself. The image in the mirror was on the whole satisfactory however, her cheeks pink from being angry and her hair curling with the damp morning air. Feeling better after what she saw, she went out into the grounds again, down the gravel walk toward the yews.
He’d be there, perhaps, for they were famous, those great yews carved and trimmed in the shape of marching elephants. She looked down the long vista, the gigantic shrubs towering above her head, but no one was there. … He’d be in the rose garden, maybe, and thither she went but he was not there nor in the spinney beyond the kitchen gardens and the henhouses. She decided to go to the lake and see if he might be wandering in the forest beyond, calculating on the value of the trees and adding up his profits for cutting them down. That indeed she felt she could not bear, for the oaks were huge and worth a fortune, only not enough, Sir Richard had often said, to save the situation.
Suddenly she saw him. He was walking toward the lake, not from the wood, but down the slope of the lawn. Yes, it could be none but the American, a tall, lean man in a dark gray suit, but much younger than she had thought he would be. His step was easy and carefree as though he already owned the land upon which he walked. Sure of him self, was he? Kate asked herself as she followed him silently, staying near enough to a tree here and there so that she could slip behind it if he turned. She’d follow and see what he did and where he went when he thought nobody was watching him.
To her surprise, he went nowhere. He stood at the lake’s edge for minutes and then sat himself down on the grass comfortably as though he meant to spend the day. He was staring at something in the lake but what? Suddenly he threw back his head and gave a shout of laughter. She was mystified. Why was he laughing all by himself? Drunk, maybe, perhaps not quite right in the head? She tiptoed over the grass until she stood almost behind him. He was actually talking to himself!
“That’s it, fella! Be careful now — you’ll choke — a spider is a mean thing to swallow!”
No — yes! He was talking to a frog! There on a lily pad a huge green bullfrog sat in the sun, its red thread of a tongue flicking in and out.
“Whatever are you doing?” she asked severely.
He gave a start and leaped to his feet.
“Trespassing, that’s what,” she went on, looking him over from head to foot. He was even taller than she thought and she tilted her head at an absurd angle to meet his eyes — blue eyes, they were, but on the gray side; he had a good mouth, it was firm and yet — pleasant was the word.
He was the American, of course, and she could have wished he weren’t so handsome. He had a nice smile, too — shy and friendly at the same time and good white teeth showing through it.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Though I am here on business of a sort, so perhaps you’ll forgive me,”
She tried to look prim. “It’s not for me to forgive or not. The castle belongs to Sir Richard and Lady Mary.”
“I hope the frog goes with the castle. He has such a proprietary air.”
He was making jokes, was he? Well, she would have back at him by pretending she didn’t know who he was, though there was no mistaking him with that dark gray suit and red tie.
“If you’ve come to sell something,” she said unsmiling, “then take yourself off. We never buy anything here at the castle. Just keep straight up the path and you’ll come to the gate and beyond that the highway direct to London.” She walked away and stopped. She’d been a bit too harsh, perhaps? “You may have the frog if you like,” she called to him over her shoulder. “I hate frogs,” she added.
He was after her at once. “May I come with you? I’ve lost my way, I’m afraid, and I left my car somewhere.”
She had to down him. “You shouldn’t have come into the grounds without permission.”
“Well, you see—”
“I don’t see! I still say it’s trespassing!”
They faced each other, eyes gazing into eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said and turned away.
She let him walk twenty yards or so and then she called again. Oh, she could be wicked, too, a cat playing with a mouse! “Did you happen by any chance to see an old man wandering about? We’ve lost him.”
He walked halfway back. “Lost him?”
“Yes.”
“How does he look?”
“I’ve never seen him to know who he was.”
“Then how can you say you’ve lost him?”
“Not I, exactly! He came to see Sir Richard — about the castle. We’re rather glad he’s lost.”
“Glad?”
“Yes, but I suppose he must be found.” She walked toward him. “Come along — you may as well join in the search now that you’re here. He’s a sort of monster, you know.”
“Monster?”
“Yes, with money,” and in the way she said “money” was all her passionate defense of the castle.
They were walking side by side. Accidentally, of course, she was not looking at him, but he stealing looks at her; she continued absently, as if it did not matter what she said to a transient, a wanderer, who had no business here and could not be concerned.
“He wants to buy the castle.”
“Really?”
“Yes, for a museum. We love the castle and we loathe him.”
“Then why do you sell the castle?”
“It’s not mine. It belongs to the family. But I’ve lived here all my life. My father was born here. So was my grandfather.”
She stopped and sighed. “But why should we bother to find him? I’ve looked everywhere. Perhaps he’s gone away. I hope he has. And I’ll take you to the service entrance.”
“Thank you.”
They walked in silence for a moment until she saw the car. Yes, it was a green car.
“This is your motorcar?”
“Yes.”
“Nice—”
She looked at it carelessly and turned away, “Well — good-bye.”
“Would you—”
“Yes?”
“I shouldn’t ask but — now that I’m here—”
“What?”
“I do want to see the inside of the castle. I’ve heard about it. An ancient man was here but he couldn’t let me go in.”
“That was my grandfather.”
“You don’t look a bit like him!”
“How could I?”
“Then will you—”
He smiled at her and she tried not to smile back. “Will you go away at once if I let you see the castle?”
“If you want me to—”