The Secret of Greylands Read Online Free PDF Page B

on to the porch, through which she had first tried to gain admittance.
    The stairs were of solid black oak, with a fine balustrade, but the need for silence was evident, for they were uncarpeted, and notwithstanding Cynthia’s best efforts her small high-heeled shoes clicked irritatingly as she mounted the wide, low steps.
    At the door she paused, and Gillman handed her the bag.
    â€œAs soon as you have finished, your tea will be ready.”
    â€œI shall not be long,” Cynthia promised as she opened the door.
    The bedroom was better furnished than she had expected, judging from the rest of the house. A large, elaborately-carved wardrobe took up most of one of the walls, and the middle of the room was occupied by an old-fashioned four-poster, but there was a couple of cosy-looking wicker-chairs, and a pretty writing-table stood by the window.
    Cynthia threw off her hat and coat and did her best to restore something like order to her appearance; but as she bathed her glowing face in the cool soft water and twisted up her refractory locks she could not help marvelling anew at the extraordinary fashion in which a woman as wealthy as her Cousin Hannah had apparently elected to live.
    Her toilet was necessarily a brief one, and she was soon ready to descend. She paused a moment on the landing outside her room and glanced round, wondering which was Lady Hannah’s room. So far as she could see by the flickering light of the small lamp standing on a bracket near there were five doors beside her own, and there was evidently another floor. Not a sound was to be heard, however, and she tiptoed downstairs as quickly as possible.
    Short as had been the time she had spent on her toilet, already a comfortable meal was spread upon the table. The tea-tray stood at one end, flanked by a round of cold beef, a great glass dish of junket and another of stewed fruit, while Gillman was standing by the fire-place manipulating a small iron saucepan, whence there proceeded a most appetizing smell.
    As Cynthia entered he turned the contents into a dish.
    â€œButtered eggs,” he said without looking round. “Your cousin likes them better than anything and I hope you will share her taste.”
    â€œI am sure I shall,” Cynthia said as she seated herself.
    In truth, the keen fresh air had given her an appetite to which she had long been a stranger, and while Gillman waited on her assiduously she made a hearty meal.
    At its conclusion she sat back in her chair with a comfortable sense of well-being. Gillman, after asking her permission, lighted a cigar.
    â€œI do hope you will be able to make yourself comfortable for the night,” he began. “My wife—”
    â€œWhere’s Hannah?” a harsh, croaking voice interrupted him. “Hannah wants Polly—poor Hannah! Stop your snivelling now!” with a startling change of tone.
    Cynthia started to her feet. With something like an imprecation Gillman faced round. Following the direction of his eyes, the girl burst out laughing. A large grey parrot, sitting on his perch, was regarding them with its head on one side.
    â€œPoor Hannah!” it repeated in a tone of melancholy.
    â€œThat confounded bird!” Gillman said and threw a cloth over the cage. “I beg your pardon,” he went on, turning to Cynthia, “but I dislike parrots above all things, and this one gets on my nerves sometimes. It is a great pet of my wife’s, however, so I have to put up with it.”
    With an attempt at a laugh he caught up one of the dishes from the table, and Cynthia heard him go down the passage.
    He did not come back, and for a while the girl sat silent, scarcely thinking, merely giving herself up to the physical enjoyment of being fed and warmed.
    Presently, however, she arose, and, telling herself that in the disorganized state of her cousin’s household it was plainly her duty not to sit idle, she began to put back some of the things which