him. I should think it might have been, but
Doctor Hilary would know best, or perhaps Mr. Danver insisted on going.
Anyhow the place is in the hands of caretakers now; the butler and his
wife are looking after it till the heir turns up, whoever he may be.
There's a rumour that he is an American, but no one seems to know for
certain. But they must be keeping the garden in good order. Golding is
staying on, and the other men, and they've just got another
under-gardener." She paused.

"Have they?" said the Duchessa carelessly, and a trifle coldly.
Nevertheless a little colour had flushed into her cheeks.

"I'm afraid you think I'm a terrible gossip," said Miss Tibbutt
apologetically. "I really don't mean to be. But in a little place, little
things interest one. I am afraid I did ask Father Dormer a good many
questions. I hope he didn't--" And she broke off anxiously.

"You dear old Tibby," smiled the Duchessa, "I'm sure he didn't. Nobody
thinks you're a gossip. Gossiping is talking about things people don't
want known, and generally things that are rather unkind, to say the least
of it. You're the soul of honour and charity, and Father Dormer knows
that as well as everyone else."

"Oh, my dear!" expostulated Miss Tibbutt. "But I'm glad you think he
didn't----"

The Duchessa got up from the table.

"Of course he didn't. Let us go into the garden, and have coffee out
there. The fresh air will blow away the cobwebs."

Miss Tibbutt followed the Duchessa through the French window and across
the wide gravel path, on to the lawn. The Duchessa led the way to a seat
beneath the lime trees. The bees were droning among the hanging flowers.

"Have you any cobwebs in your mind, my dear?" asked Miss Tibbutt as they
sat down.

"Why do you ask?" queried the Duchessa.

"Oh, my dear! I don't know. You said that about cobwebs, you see. And I
thought you seemed--well, just a little preoccupied at dinner."

There was a little silence.

"Tell me," said Miss Tibbutt.

"There's nothing to tell," said the Duchessa lightly. "A rather pretty
soap-bubble burst and turned into an unpleasant cobweb, that's all.
So--well, I've just been brushing my mind clear of both the cobweb and
the memory of the soap-bubble."

"You're certain it--the cobweb--isn't worrying you now?" asked Miss
Tibbutt.

"My dear Tibby, it has ceased to exist," laughed the Duchessa.

It was a very reassuring little laugh. Miss Tibbutt knew it to be quite
absurd