"Is Mr Rutherford within?"
"And what may you want with him?"
"My name is Rosamund Lindley. I am his relative. I want to see him."
"Eh, my dear," said the old man; "Geoffrey Rutherford has many
relatives, many, and they all want to see him. It's wonderful how he's
appreciated! Quite extraordinary, for he does nothing to deserve it.
I'll inquire if you can be admitted, Miss--Miss Lindley."
The old man shambled away. He was so inhospitable that he absolutely
left the chain on the door.
He was absent for nearly ten minutes. I thought he had forgotten all
about me, and was about to knock again, when he reappeared. Without
saying a word he removed the chain from the hall-door and flung it wide
open.
He was about the shabbiest-looking servant I ever saw.
"Come this way," he said, when I had stepped into the hall.
He took me down a long passage, and into a room which was only lighted
from the roof. The furniture of the room was handsome, but covered
everywhere with dust. The leather of the high-backed chairs was
worm-eaten.
"Sit down, Miss Lindley," he said, motioning to one of them.
And then, to my astonishment, he placed himself before a high desk, and
began to write.
I am sure I must always have had a quick temper. I thought this old
servant's manners intolerable.
"Go and tell your master, at once, that his relative, Rosamund Lindley,
is here," I said. "Go, I am in a hurry."
He dropped his pen, and looked at me with the dawning of a smile playing
round his thin lips.
"And pray, who is my master?"
"My cousin, Mr Geoffrey Rutherford."
"I happen to be that individual myself."
I was really startled into jumping out of my seat. I flopped back again
with a very red face, said "Oh!" and felt extremely foolish.
"What is your candid opinion of your Cousin Geoffrey, young lady?" said
the little man, jumping up and walking over to the fireplace. "He is
the ideal sort of rich cousin, is he not?"
I laughed. My laugh seemed to please the owner of the dirty house. He
smiled again faintly, looking hard into my face, and said:--"I forget
your name, tell it to me again."
"Rosamund Lindley."
"Ah, Lindley!" He started slightly. "I have put down no _Lindleys_ in
my list of relatives. Rosamund Lindley! Are you my seventh, eighth, or
tenth cousin, child? I have cousins, I assure you, twenty degrees
removed, most affectionate people. Extraordinary! I can't make out
what they see in me."
"My mother was your first cousin," I said boldly. "Her name was the
same as yours--Rutherford. Before she was married she was known to her
friends as Mary Rutherford."
I expected this remark to make a sensation. It did. The little man
turned his back on me, _gazed_ for a couple of minutes into the empty
grate, then flashed round, and pointed to one of the worm-eaten chairs.
"Sit down, Rosamund Lindley, you--you have astonished me. You have
given me a shock. In short you have mentioned the only relative who is
not--not very affectionate. So you are Mary Rutherford's daughter? You
are not like her. I can't compliment you by saying that you are. Did--
did Mary Rutherford send you to me?"
"Most assuredly she did not. I have come entirely of my own free will.
I had to coax my mother for a whole week before she would even give me
your address."
"But she gave it at last?"
"I made her."
"She knows you have come then."
"It is impossible for her not to know that I have come. But she is
angry--grieved--even frightened. You could not have been at all kind to
my mother long ago, Cousin Geoffrey."
"Hush--chit! Let your mother's name drop out of our conversation. Now,
I will sit down near you, and we can talk. You have come to see me of
your own free will? Granted. You are my relative--not twenty degrees
removed? Granted. Now, what can I do for you. Rosamund Lindley?"
"I want you to help me," I said.