"In reply to your advertisement in the _Daily Telegraph,_ I am at the
moment in a position to offer you a very fine old historical mansion
situated in West Sussex on the Hampshire border. The house has been
untenanted for a number of years and will require considerable
attention. In the hands of a man of wealth and taste, it could be
restored to its original condition and would form one of the most
picturesque and desirable mansions in the Country. It is eminently a
place that it is necessary to see and a description of it would take too
much time now, for as I have previously mentioned, I am only, at the
moment, in a position to offer it as it has already been seen and highly
approved by a wealthy American gentleman and it is quite probable that
he will close at the bargain price at which the house and estate of
seven hundred and fifty acres, including part of a small and picturesque
village, is being offered. I would urge on you, therefore, if you care
to consider the place, to view it without one moment's delay, as
obviously it will be sold to the first who makes a good offer. I may
add that the Mansion in question, with its many historical associations,
would make a country seat fit for any nobleman in the land. May I
finally repeat my urgent advice to view the place at once, as the delay
of even an hour may be prejudicial to your obtaining it. Believe me,
sir,
Yours truly,
DALABEY AND SON."
Over this letter Sir Josiah pondered a little and frowned a little.
"It's rather like having a pistol at one's head! Hanged if it isn't!"
he muttered. "But it reads all right, it reads--the goods! Historical
Mansion, seven hundred and fifty acres, fit for a nobleman, with part of
a village, sounds right--sounds right--" he muttered. He nodded his
head. "But this hurry--why it's a confounded nuisance, that's what it
is. How can I go? I've got--let me see--har hum--" He muttered to
himself and frowned heavily.
He had much important business to see to, that day, a meeting of
Directors at twelve, another at two, and there were things to be
arranged and discussed that Sir Josiah knew would require his clear
brain and intellect. How could, he go journeying down to some remote
part of Sussex to view this ancient mansion with its historical
associations, desirable as it might be?
Sir Josiah looked up from the letter and glanced across the breakfast
table at his son.
Allan was reading. It would have been noteworthy had Allan not been
reading. The lad was always reading. His book was propped up against a
teacup and he seemed to have forgotten his breakfast.
A good looking, big and broad shouldered young fellow this, with clean
cut features and massive jaw and a broad high forehead! Muscle and
sinew were there, but there was intelligence and brain power in that
noble forehead of his.
Fully six feet stood he in his socks, massive of build, with straight,
honest blue eyes and waving hair that was neither dark nor fair. A face
that might in its strength seem a little hard, a little fierce, even a
little forbidding, but that the mouth atoned for all.
No man with a mouth like this could be other than very human, very
tender and kindly, very generous, the mouth of a man who could give
much, suffer much and love greatly.
But Sir Josiah saw nothing of all this, he only saw Allan, his son,
reading another of those confounded books, for which Sir Josiah had no
feeling, except of the deepest disgust.
"Allan!"
"Father?" The young man looked up. "I'm sorry!" he said. "Did you
speak to me before?"
"No, I didn't, and breakfast ain't the time, Allan, to be stuffing your
head with all that there nonsense!"