"You don't know, of course-I've already seen that place three times. There are limits to one's enthusiasm…I don't think I'll come, thanks!"
"This is truly unexpected. Most girls would be charmed at the prospect of another pleasure party."
"The only pleasure I can see in it is the pleasure of your society, Mrs. Richborough. Of course, that is a great inducement."
"No, don't be horride, my dear. Let me put it in a different form. Perhaps you're not keen on coming; but do it to please Mr. Judge. The poor man's so proud of his house, and so delighted-so almost childishly delighted at the opportunity of exhibiting it to his friends. For some unknown reason, he chooses to set a very high value on my artistic opinion, and I have promised to tell him honestly exactly what I think of Runhill Court…And now, because you're afraid of being a little bored, you're going to dash all our plans to the ground."
Isbel laughed. "The long and short of it is I'm not wanted for my own sake, but only to act as chaperon to you."
The widow, too laughed - so energetically that her long, white face became quite strange to look at.
"It sounds rather weird for an unmarried girl to chaperon an experienced widow, but you know, my dear, two women can always go where one can't. After all, I have my reputation to lose, just as much as the youngest and most innocent of you…You will come now, won't you?"
"I'm still rather at sea, Mrs. Richborough. Is all this solicitude on your account, or Mr. Judge's?"
"On his-because I'm so sorry for him. The poor man is so lonely. He's lost his wife, he has no friends to speak of, and he lives all by himself in a seaside hotel, where he's surrounded by a set of entirely new faces every day. We women ought to do what we can for him. I know he can't be precisely a congenial companion for a girl your age, but if you'll only act the good Samaritan and come with us I give you my solemn word of honour I'll take as much of his conversation off your hands as I can manage."
"Oh, I don't doubt that in the very least."
"Then you consent?"
"No, I refuse," said Isbel, drily.
"It's too bad of you!…Won't you give a reason? I must tell him something."
"Tell him I don't care to. He'll understand. Tell him I don't care to go running about the country with total strangers. I don't like it, and my friends wouldn't like it…Thanks for coming over, Mrs. Richborough! There's nothing else you want to say, is there?" She prepared to get up.
"One little minute more, my dear…If you don't care about accompanying us, would your aunt, I wonder? You say she is negotiating for the house. Mr. Judge, of course, would bring his car for her."
"I'm afraid if he brought wild horses it wouldn't have the desired effect. She's a very difficult person to move."
"There's nothing like trying. If I were to walk back with you to your hotel, should I find her in?"
"She would be in, but whether she would be visible is quite another matter. I may as well tell you that her interest in Runhill Court is extremely thin at the moment, and as for Mr. Judge-merely to mention his name is like holding out a red cloak to a bull…She fancies he hasn't treated her with an excessive amount of consideration-and that's really why the negotiations are falling on me."
"There would be no harm in my trying, though. I think I will look in on my way to the station. It's the Hotel Gondy, isn't it? I fancy I once stayed there."
"You seem quite well posted," said Isbel, smiling with vexation. "Go, by all means, if you think it's at all likely to answer the purpose. Only, please don't bring my name into it-I particularly request that."
The widow shot her a malicious little glance.
"If it can possibly be avoided, my dear, it shall me. In any case, she shall hear nothing of the letter-I promise you that."
"I begin to see!"
"I can hardly do more, can I? If we aren't to be friends, you really can't expect me to fib for you. Be reasonable!"
"No, u really suppose I can't…The only thing that still puzzles me is why my humble society should be so much in request. Such red-hot zeal in the cause of sight-seeing strikes one as quite uncanny! Surely you can't have told me the whole story?"
"I believe we shall come to terms now. Do you know, my dear, you're ever so much cleverer than I gave you credit for at first." She bestowed on Isbel one of those disarming smiles which she ordinarily reserved for her male acquaintances. "As you're so direct with me, Im going to be equally open with you. Runhill Court is notoriously haunted, and…I'm a spiritist…That explains everything at last, doesn't it?"
Isbel stared at her. "But is it notoriously haunted?"
"Perhaps 'haunted' is a rather misleading term. Shall we say queer? There's a corridor there which is quite celebrated throughout the length and breadth of the kingdom-in psychic circles, it goes without saying. You must know it, since you've been there so many times?"
"Oh, yes-but if that's all, it's not much."
"Not to you, my dear, for you take no interest in such matters, but to anyone who is interested in another world the smallest clue is deeply engrossing. Possibly you have never lost anyone who is very, very dear to you? I have."
"And that's the true reason why I'm to be forced to do something I don't want? Excuse my scepticism, Mrs. Richborough, but you've been rattling out different explanations at the rate of sixty miles an hour for the last ten minutes. I'm not sure whether there are more to come."
The widow threw her a hostile glance. "Such as what?"
"That's what I don't know, and what I am wondering."
"You seem to suggest a personal motive?"
"I suggest nothing at all, but it's very funny…How long have you really know Mr. Judge?"
"Exactly a fortnight to-morrow, my dear. You see, there's no question of intimacy between us."
"What is the extent of his fortune, really? I've never heard."
Mrs. Richborough showed her long, but beautifully white teeth, in a smile. "Has he one? He has that house, of course…I confess I've never heard whether he's rich or poor, and, to tell the truth, it doesn't worry me in the slightest. I'm afraid I'm a dreadfully unmercenary creature; I choose my friends for their distinction of character, and not at all for their money-bags. I've never had anything to do with money, and I hate the very mention of it."
"Then how do you contrive to live?" asked Isbel bluntly.
"Oh, one has an income, of course…still, one leaves all that to one's banker. The great art of living happily, my dear, is to cut your coat according to your stuff…Now, it's getting late-what about to-morrow?"
"I suppose I shall have to say 'Yes,' since you're so very persuasive."
"I felt sure you would relent eventually."
"On condition that the whole thing is kept quiet."
Mrs. Richborough reassured her with effusiveness.
"It had better be in the morning," said Isbel, cutting her short somewhat contemptuously.
"I was going to suggest it. I'm so glad you can fit in-I know how horribly tied you girls are. They call it a free country, yet a girl is a perfect slave to her little circle…Now, will you come over to Worthing by the same train as before? Come straight along to the Metropole, and ask for me. The car will be waiting, and we can start at once-just the three of us."
"How do you know that Mr. Judge will be sufficiently recovered to come?"
"Oh, he will be. There's nothing seriously wrong with him, my dear. I shall pack him off to bed early, and see that he gets a real good night's rest."
Isbel stood up. "He's evidently in good hands."
"Any woman would do that much for him. It would be abominable to leave him to the mercies of the hotel staff." Mrs. Richborough also ascended to ther perpendicular position-a floating mass of soft furs…"You don't wish me to convey a personal message?"