The pool of St Branok

Grace smiled. "I remember you," she said. "We saw you almost at this spot. It is a favorite walk of ours."

"It is becoming one of mine." He turned to Morwenna. "I'm afraid that was rather a shock for you."

"Oh yes," she said. "It was silly of me really ... carrying a purse in that pocket."

"These people are sharp. They are trained to it, you know. They can almost sniff out a stealable object. Why do we not sit down for a moment." He indicated a seat.

He was smartly dressed in morning coat and top hat; he was young, the type of man we met in the London social circle.

"I hope you don't think this is indecorous," he said. "But perhaps in view of our little adventure ..."

"I am so grateful to you," said Morwenna. "I am glad to have a chance to thank you. I hadn't much in the purse but it was worked by my mother, and I do value it for that reason."

"These sentimental gifts cannot be replaced. This makes me doubly happy to have been of assistance."

"I was so fortunate that you happened to be so near."

He introduced himself. "I am Justin Cartwright," he said.

"Do you live near here?" I asked.

"I have been abroad," he said. "I have only recently returned home. I am staying in London ... in a hotel at the moment. I am making plans."

"That sounds very interesting," said Morwenna.

He smiled at her. He seemed to be quite interested in her for which I was glad; and she responded. She did not seem to be trying to shrink away. After all, it was her purse which had been stolen; and she could be said to be the center of this adventure.

We chatted a little; and after a while he said he must not detain us further.

Morwenna thanked him again for his help and he left us.

"An interesting man," said Grace.

"And very kind," added Morwenna.

"I wonder what his business is and what he has been doing abroad," I said.

"He was so quick after that boy," went on Morwenna. "And I am glad he let him go. He said he looked so frightened and he is obviously very, very poor. It was kind of him. Most people would have made a fuss and there would have been a lot of trouble. Goodness knows what would have happened if that boy had been handed over to the law. I've been reading Matthew's book on Prison Reform. Some of the things which happened to those people are quite terrible."

"They are criminals," said Grace. "And that boy would have made off with your purse. He will go on doing that sort of thing and will probably steal the purse of someone who depends on what is in it for his next meal."

"Well, I didn't," said Morwenna. "And I am glad he let him go. He was touched by him and I think that shows a good nature."

"Well," said Grace, "it is time we went back. It will teach you to be more careful in the future, Morwenna."

Morwenna said it would; but I could see that she had quite enjoyed the encounter. The theft had been shocking, but the rescuer had been both courteous and attentive to her. That was rare for Morwenna and she seemed to blossom under it.

I wished again that she would lose that sense of inferiority—then I was sure she would be quite attractive.

Discovery on a Honeymoon

Gervaise had left London a few days before we set out for Derbyshire and he was at the station to meet us. He had come in a carriage with the Mandeville arms emblazoned on it and drawn by two rather sprightly gray horses.

When he greeted us he told us how delighted he was to see us and that the family was agog with excitement at the prospect.

Our luggage was put into the carriage by a respectful porter whose manner indicated to us the importance of the Mandevilles in this part of the world; and soon we were riding through the country lanes.

And there was the house.

There had been a Mandeville Court in Tudor times, but the old building had burned down in the early 1600s and a few years later had been rebuilt. It was of a rectangular shape composed of bricks and Portland stone. There was a portico and steps leading to the front door; and the tall windows gave a touch of elegance.

It was a very attractive house though it lacked the antiquity of Cador. In fact it seemed quite modern in comparison; but it was stately and dignified —a house to be proud of.

We were taken immediately into the house where Gervaise introduced us to his parents.

Sir Horace was benign and told us how pleased he was that we were able to come. Lady Mandeville was pleasant but I could see that she was a forceful woman and her gimlet eyes were naturally focused on me.

Then there were the rest of the family: the eldest son, William, who would inherit the title and the estates; Henry, the second son, who was studying law; and Marian, the daughter, the youngest member of the family, slightly younger than I was, I guessed.

We were shown our rooms which were lofty and elegant, and mine, next to that of my parents, looked out on the gardens.

A maid came in to help us unpack, although we could easily have done it ourselves and would have preferred to. One did not need a great deal of baggage for two weeks.