The Experiences of Loveday Brooke, Lady Detective | Page 5

farms land about a
couple of miles from here. He is one of Stephanie's lovers, and I should
imagine about the best of the lot. But he does not appear to be first
favourite; from what I hear someone else must have made the running
on the sly. Ever since the robbery I'm told the young woman has given
him the cold shoulder."

As the young man came nearer in his buggy he slackened pace, and
Loveday could not but admire his frank, honest expression of
countenance,
"Room for one--can I give you a lift?" he said, as he came alongside of
them.
And to the ineffable disgust of Bates, who had counted upon at least an
hour's confidential talk with her, Miss Brooke accepted the young
farmer's offer, and mounted beside him in his buggy.
As they went swiftly along the country road, Loveday explained to the
young man that her destination was Craigen Court, and that as she was
a stranger to the place, she must trust to him to put her down at the
nearest point to it that he would pass.
At the mention of Craigen Court his face clouded.
"They're in trouble there, and their trouble has brought trouble on
others," he said a little bitterly.
"I know," said Loveday sympathetically; "it is often so. In such
circumstances as these suspicions frequently fastens on an entirely
innocent person."
"That's it! that's it!" he cried excitedly; "if you go into that house you'll
hear all sorts of wicked things said of her, and see everything setting in
dead against her. But she's innocent. I swear to you she is as innocent
as you or I are."
His voice rang out above the clatter of his horse's hoots. He seemed to
forget that he had mentioned no name, and that Loveday, as a stranger,
might be at a loss to know to whom he referred.
"Who is guilty Heaven only knows," he went on after a moment's pause;
"it isn't for me to give an ill name to anyone in that house; but I only
say she is innocent, and that I'll stake my life on."

"She is a lucky girl to have found one to believe in her, and trust her as
you do," said Loveday, even more sympathetically than before.
"Is she? I wish she'd take advantage of her luck, then," he answered
bitterly. "Most girls in her position would be glad to have a man to
stand by them through thick and thin. But not she! Ever since the night
of that accursed robbery she has refused to see me--won't answer my
letters--won't even send me a message. And, great Heavens! I'd marry
her to-morrow, if I had the chance, and dare the world to say a word
against her."
He whipped up his pony. The hedges seemed to fly on either side of
them, and before Loveday realized that half her drive was over, he had
drawn rein, and was helping her to alight at the servants' entrance to
Craigen Court.
"You'll tell her what I've said to you, if you get the opportunity, and
beg her to see me, if only for five minutes?" he petitioned before he
re-mounted his buggy. And Loveday, as she thanked the young man for
his kind attention, promised to make an opportunity to give his message
to the girl.
Mrs. Williams, the housekeeper, welcomed Loveday in the servants'
hall, and then took her to her own room to pull off her wraps. Mrs.
Williams was the widow of a London tradesman, and a little beyond
the average housekeeper in speech and manner.
She was a genial, pleasant woman, and readily entered into
conversation with Loveday. Tea was brought in, and each seemed to
feel at home with the other. Loveday in the course of this easy, pleasant
talk, elicited from her the whole history of the events of the day of the
robbery, the number and names of the guests who sat down to dinner
that night, together with some other apparently trivial details.
The housekeeper made no attempt to disguise the painful position in
which she and every one of the servants of the house felt themselves to
be at the present moment.

"We are none of us at our ease with each other now," she said, as she
poured out hot tea for Loveday, and piled up a blazing fire. "Everyone
fancies that everyone else is suspecting him or her, and trying to rake
up past words or deeds to bring in as evidence. The whole house seems
under a cloud. And at this time of year, too; just when everything as a
rule is at its merriest!" and here she gave a doleful glance to the big
bunch of holly and mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.