Tristram of Blent | Page 7

well-to-do relative (even Madame de
Kries' villa was on a modest scale) until Mina married Adolf Zabriska
and kept that gentleman's money although she had the misfortune to
lose his company. His death seemed to Duplay at least no great
calamity; that he had died childless did not appear to have disappointed
Mina and was certainly no ground of complaint on her uncle's part.
Presumably Mr Sloyd's inquiries elicited satisfactory information;
perhaps Mina was not hard to please. At all events, a week later she and
the Major got out at Blentmouth station and found Sloyd himself
waiting to drive with them to Merrion Lodge; he had insisted on seeing
them installed; doubtless he was, as he put it, playing for the break
again. He sat in the landau with his back to the horses and pointed out
the features of interest on the road; his couple of days' stay in the
neighborhood seemed to have made him an old inhabitant.
"Five hundred population five years ago," he observed, waving his
hand over Blentmouth in patronizing encouragement. "Two thousand
winter, three five summer months now--largely due to William Iver,
Esquire, of Fairholme--we shall pass Fairholme directly--a wealthy

gentleman who takes great interest in the development of the town."
It was all Greek to the Major, but he nodded politely. Mina was looking
about her with keen eyes.
"That's Fairholme," Sloyd went on, as they came to a large and rather
new house situated on the skirts of Blentmouth. "Observe the
glass--those houses cost thousands of pounds--grows peaches all the
year, they tell me. At this point, Madame Zabriska, we turn and pursue
the road by the river." And so he ceased not to play guide-book till he
landed them at the door of Merrion Lodge itself, after a slow crawl of a
quarter of a mile uphill. Below them in the valley lay the little Blent,
sparkling in the sunshine of a summer afternoon, and beyond the river,
facing them on the opposite bank, no more perhaps than five hundred
yards away, was Blent Hall. Mina ran to the parapet of the levelled
terrace on which the Lodge stood, and looked down. Blent Hall made
three sides of a square of old red-brick masonry, with a tower in the
centre; it faced the river, and broad gravel-walks and broader lawns of
level close-shaven turf ran down to the water's edge.
"Among the minor seats of the nobility Blent is considered a very
perfect example," she heard Sloyd say to the Major, who was
unobtrusively but steadily urging him in the direction of the landau.
She turned to bid him good-by, and he came up to her, hat in hand.
"Thank you. I like the place," she said. "Do you--do you think we shall
make acquaintance with the people at Blent Hall?"
"Her ladyship's in poor health, I hear, but I should imagine she would
make an effort to call or at least send cards. Good-by, madame."
Duplay succeeded in starting the zealous man on his homeward journey
and then went into the house, Mina remaining still outside, engaged in
the contemplation of her new surroundings, above all of Blent Hall,
which was invested with a special interest for her eyes. It was the abode
of Mrs Fitzhubert.
With a little start she turned to find a young man standing just on the

other side of the parapet; she had not noticed his approach till he had
given a low cough to attract her attention. As he raised his hat her quick
vision took him in as it were in a complete picture--the thin yet
well-made body, the slight stoop in the shoulders, the high forehead
bordered with thick dark hair growing in such a shape that the brow
seemed to rise almost to a peak, a long nose, a sensitive mouth, a
pointed chin, dark eyes with downward lids. The young man--she
would have guessed him at twenty-two or three--had a complete
composure of manner; somehow she felt herself in the presence of the
lord of the soil--an absurd thing to feel, she told herself.
"Madame Zabriska? My mother, Lady Tristram, has sent me to bid you
welcome in her name, but not to disturb you by coming in so soon after
your journey. It is our tradition to welcome guests at the moment of
their arrival."
He spoke rather slowly, in a pleasant voice, but with something in his
air that puzzled Mina. It seemed like a sort of watchfulness--not a
slyness (that would have fitted so badly with the rest of him), but
perhaps one might say a wariness--whether directed against her or
himself it was too soon for her even to conjecture.
Still rather startled, she forgot to express her thanks, and said simply:
"You're Mr Fitzhubert Tristram?"
"Mr