JULIET ASKS QUESTIONS
"Any place," the girl exclaimed as she entered, "more unlike asolicitor's office, I never saw! Flowers outside and flowers on yourdesk, Mr. Pengarth! Don't you have to apologize to your clients foryour surroundings? There's absolutely nothing, except the brass plateoutside, to show that this isn't an old-fashioned farmhouse, stuck downin the middle of a village. Fuchsias in the window sill, too!"
He placed a chair for her, and laid down the deed which he had beenexamining, with a little sigh of relief. It really was very hard workpretending to be busy.
"You see, Miss Juliet," he explained with twinkling eyes, "my clientsare all country folk, and it makes them feel more at home to find alawyer's office not very different from their own parlor."
She nodded.
"What would the great man say?" she inquired, pointing to the rows ofblack tin boxes which lined the walls.
"Sir Wingrave Seton is never likely to come here again, I am afraid,"he answered. "If he did, I don't think he'd mind. To tell you the truth,I'm rather proud of my office, young lady!"
She looked around.
"They are nice," she said decidedly, "but unbusinesslike."
"You're going to put up the pony and stay to lunch, of course?" he said."I'll ring for the boy."
She stopped him.
"Please don't!" she exclaimed. "I have come to see you--on business!"
Mr. Pengarth, after his first gasp of astonishment, was a different man.He fumbled about on the desk, and produced a pair of gold spectacles,which he adjusted with great nicety on the edge of his very short nose.
"On business, my dear!" he repeated. "Well, well! To be sure! Is it MissHarrison who has sent you?"
Mr. Pengarth's visitor looked positively annoyed. She leaned across thetable towards him so that the roses in her large hat almost brushed hisforehead. Her wonderful brown eyes were filled with reproach.
"Mr. Pengarth," she said, "do you know how old I am?"
"How old, my dear? Why, let me see!" he exclaimed. "Fourteen and--why,God bless my soul, you must be eighteen!"
"I am nineteen years old, Mr. Pengarth," the young lady announced withdignity. "Perhaps you will be kind enough to treat me now--er--with alittle more respect."
"Nineteen!" he repeated vaguely. "God bless my--nineteen years old?"
"I consider myself," she repeated, "of age. I have come to see you aboutmy affairs!"
"Yes, yes!" he said. "Quite natural."
"For four years," she continued, "I seem to have been supported by somerelative of my father, who has never vouchsafed to send me a single lineor message except through you. I have written letters which I havegiven to you to forward. There has been no reply. Have you sent on thoseletters, Mr. Pengarth?"
"Why certainly, my dear, certainly!"
"Can you tell me how it is that I have had no answer?"
Mr. Pengarth coughed. He was not at all comfortable.
"Your guardian, Miss Juliet, is somewhat eccentric," he answered, "andhe is a very busy man."
"Can you tell me, Mr. Pengarth, exactly what relation he is to me?"
There was a dead silence. Mr. Pengarth found the room suddenly warm, andmopped his forehead with a large silk handkerchief.
"I have no authority," he declared, "to answer any questions."
"Then can you tell me of your own accord," she said, "why there is allthis mystery? Why may I not know who he is, why may I not write to him?Am I anything to be ashamed of, that he will not trust me even with hisname? I am tired of accepting so much and not being able to offer evenmy thanks in return. It is too much like charity! I have made up my mindthat if this is to go on, I will go away and earn my own living! There,Mr. Pengarth!"
"Rubbish!" he exclaimed briskly. "What at?"
"Painting!" she declared triumphantly. "I have had this in my mind forsome time, and I have been trying to see what I can do best. I havequite decided, now, to be an artist."
"Pictures," he declared sententiously, "don't sell!"
"Mine do," she answered, smiling. "I have had a check for three guineasfrom a shop in London for a little sea piece I did in two afternoons!"
He regarded her admiringly.
"You are a wonderful child!" he exclaimed.
"I am not a child at all," she interrupted warmly, "and you can just sitdown and write to your silly client and tell him so."
"I will certainly write to him," he affirmed. "I will do so today. Youwill not do anything rash until I have had time to get a reply?"
"No!" she answered graciously. "I will wait for a week. Afterthat--well, I might do anything!"
"You wouldn't leave Tredowen, Miss Juliet!" he protested.
"It would break my heart, of course," she declared, "but I would do itand trust to time to heal it up again. Tredowen seems like home to me,but it isn't really, you know. Some day, Sir Wingrave Seton may want tocome back and live there himself. Are you quite certain, Mr. Pengarth,that he won't be angry to hear that we have been living at the house allthis time?"
"Certain," Mr. Pengarth declared firmly. "He left everything entirelyin my hands. He did not wish me to let it, but he did not care about itsbeing altogether uninhabited. The arrangement I was able to make withyour guardian was a most satisfactory one."
"But surely he will come back himself some time?" she asked,
The lawyer shook his head sorrowfully.
"I am afraid," he said, "that Sir Wingrave has no affection for theplace whatever."
"No affection for Tredowen," she repeated wonderingly. "Do you know whatI think, Mr. Pengarth? I think that it is the most beautiful house inthe world!"
"And yet you talk of leaving it."
"I don't want to go," she answered, "but I don't want to be acceptingthings all my life from someone whose name even I do not know."
"Well, well," he said, "you must wait until I have written my letter.Time enough to talk about that later on. Now, if you won't stay tolunch, you must come and see Rachael and have some cake and a glass ofwine."
"How sweet of you," she exclaimed. "I'm frightfully hungry. Can I doanything to stop growing, Mr. Pengarth? I'm getting taller and taller!"
She stood up. She was head and shoulders taller than the little lawyer,slim as a lath, and yet wonderfully graceful. She laughed down at himand made a little grimace.
"I'm a giraffe, am I not?" she declared; "and I'm still growing. Do showme your garden, Mr. Pengarth. I want to see your hollyhocks. Everyone istalking about them."
They were joined in a few minutes by a prim, dignified little lady,ridiculously like Mr. Pengarth, whom he called sister, and she MissRachael. Juliet walked down the garden between them.
"Sister," Mr. Pengarth said, "Juliet has come today to see me onbusiness. In effect, she has come to remind me that she is grown up."
"Grown up," Miss Rachael protested vigorously, "rubbish!"
"I am nineteen years old," Juliet declared.
"And what if you are," Miss Rachael replied briskly. "In my young dayswe were in the nursery at nineteen."
"Quite so," Mr. Pengarth assented with relief. "You took me by stormjust now, Miss Juliet. After all, you are only a child."
"I am old enough to feel and to mean all that I said to you, Mr.Pengarth," she answered gravely. "And that reminds me, too--there wassomething else I meant to ask you."
"Sister," Mr. Pengarth said, "have you ordered the wine and the cake?"
"Bless me, no!" Miss Rachael declared. "It shall be ready in fiveminutes."
She entered the house. Mr. Pengarth stooped to pick some lavender.
"The only time I ever saw Sir Wingrave Seton," she said, "was on the daybefore I was told that a relation of my father had been found, who waswilling to take charge of me. There was a younger man with him, someonevery, very different from Sir Wingrave. Do you know who he was?"
"A sort of secretary of Sir Wingrave, I believe, dear. I never met him.I was, unfortunately, away at the time they came."
"He
was very nice and kind to me," the girl continued, "just as nice asSir Wingrave was horrid. I suppose it was because they came on that day,but I have always connected him somehow with this mysterious relation ofmine. Mr. Aynesworth didn't help to find him, did he?"
"Certainly not!" the lawyer answered. "The instructions I had came firstfrom Mr. Saunders, the vicar of the parish. It was he who appeared tohave made the necessary inquiries."
"Horrid old man!" she declared. "He used to make me feel that I wantedto cry every time that I saw him."
"Miss Rachael is calling us," the lawyer declared with obvious relief.
"New cake!" Juliet declared, "I can smell it! Delicious!"
The Malefactor Page 19
