A RUMOUR
THAT evening John wrote a letter to his sister, Mrs. Darcy, who lived
in Ireland. The letter contained the following paragraphs:
“I am going down to Malford on Tuesday, an out-of-the-way spot near
Whortley. Corin Elmore--the painter fellow, you know who I mean--has
bothered me into it. He has got a job there, uncovering and restoring
the mural paintings in a pre-reformation church. All seems grist
that comes to his mill. Apparently the only attractions the place
has to offer are gorgeous scenery, and later a superabundance of
blackberries, if I choose to await their ripening. I don’t know for
how long I shall find such attractions all-satisfying.
“Address after Tuesday next till further notice, The White Cottage,
Malford, near Whortley.
“I hope Maurice and the kiddies are flourishing.
“Your loving brother, John.”
The morning before he left town John received a reply to his letter.
“A sojourn, even for a short space, in such a remote region sounds
extraordinarily unlike you. Perhaps it will have its compensations.
You will deserve them, as I am sure you are doing this entirely on Mr.
Elmore’s account. I wonder if you will chance to meet the Delanceys.
From all I have heard Lady Mary must be a charming woman, and I once
met her granddaughter, Rosamund Delancey. She is an exceedingly pretty
girl. Maurice raved about her in a way that might have made a younger,
and less experienced, woman than myself jealous.
“I heard an extraordinary rumour some weeks ago regarding the Delancey
estate,--that an American claimant had turned up. Personally I gave
little credence to the report. It savours too much of melodrama for
this prosaic twentieth century. My informant had her facts pat enough,
though. But it is too long a story to deal with in a letter, certainly
too long when it is, as I believe, pure fiction. Anyhow there’s a
missing document, a murder, and a wolf-hound connected with it. True
Adelphi melodrama!
“I hope you may chance to meet the Delanceys....”
John glanced up at a small statue of Our Lady, which stood on his
mantelpiece.
“Blessed Lady,” he said aloud in a tone at once respectful, fervent,
and charmingly friendly, “join your prayers to her hopes.”