t one was
part and parcel of the other, though I couldn't see the link which
united the two.
As for Terry, he puzzled over none of these things. He wanted the place
even on preposterous terms. When Lord Scarlett had drawn up an
agreement, his signature flashed across the paper like a streak of
lightning, so wild was he to rush back to London bearing the news to his
princess. Lord Scarlett--sure of his mad client--offered to have the
agreement polished up in legal form without further bother for Captain
Burns, and we were free to go.
Terry could talk of nothing on the way home but his marvellous luck.
_Hang_ the money! He'd have paid twice as much, if need be. The next
thing was to smarten the place: buy some more "historic" furniture to
fill the gaps made by sales, send down a decorator to see what beds,
etc., needed renovating, have an expert look at the drains and the
central heating (long unused) which had been put in with German money,
engage a staff of servants for indoors and out; get hold of two or three
young peacocks whose tails hadn't moulted.
"If I don't care how much I spend, don't you think we can make an
earthly paradise of the place in a week?" he appealed.
"We?" I echoed. "Why, I thought my part was played!"
His grieved eyes reproached me. What? After going so far, I was going to
desert him in the midst of the woods? He begged me to stand by him till
all was ready to receive the Princess. If I didn't, something was sure
to go wrong.
Well, once a Brightener, always a Brightener, I suppose! And acting on
this principle I yielded. I promised to stop for a week at Dawley St.
Ann, a village within a mile of Dun Moat (there's a dear old inn
there!), and superintend preparations for the beloved tenant. When she
was safely installed, I would go home--or elsewhere, and Terry could
take my rooms at the inn. Being her neighbour as well as landlord, he'd
easily find excuses to see the Princess every day, and thus get his
money's worth of Dun Moat.
All this was settled before we reached London; and the first thing Terry
thought of on entering the flat (mine, not his!) was to ring up the
Savoy. The answer came quickly; and I saw a light of rapture on his
face. The Princess herself was at the telephone!
CHAPTER VI
THE LIGHTNING STROKE
It was amazing what Terry and I accomplished in the next few days, I at
Dawley St. Ann, close to Dun Moat, he flashing back and forth between
there and Lon
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