“It is a most extraordinary thing, Miss Christie,” said he; “but that
child hates me.”

I thought he spoke in fun; but, before I had been long at the Alders,
I found that it was true that this most unpleasant baby’s strongest
feeling was dislike of her father, though there seemed to be no reason
for it, since he never did anything harsher than laugh at her. She
would not even take sweets from his hand.

“You do not yet know what primitive people you have come among, Miss
Christie,” said Mr. Rayner during breakfast. “We dine here at
half-past one. If we were to suggest late dinner, we should have to
prepare our own food, like excommunicated persons. It is hard as it is
to keep our modest staff of three servants. They say the place is
damp, which, being interpreted, means that it is too far for their
‘young men’ in the town to come and see them. Were you not surprised
at the wording of my advertisement?”

“Yes, Mr. Rayner.”

“My wife was afraid that it would frighten off many desirable young
ladies by its ogreish abruptness. The fact is, the lady who has just
left us, quite a typical instructress of forty, with prominent teeth
and glasses, nearly frightened our lives out. She wouldn’t talk, and
my wife wants a cheerful companion; and she said she was dying of
rheumatism, and threatened to prosecute me for decoying her to such a
damp place. So we registered a solemn vow that we would have nothing
to do with hoar antiquity again.”

“How could she say anything against such a lovely place?” said I.

“Well, now, Miss Christie, I grant she had a show of reason on her
side. I have sometimes thought the place damp myself; but my wife has
got attached to it; haven’t you, Lola?”

“Yes,” said she, without a sign of feeling or interest.

“And so we remain,” he went on. “A lady’s wishes must be considered;
and there are special reasons why they should be in this case. You
must know, Miss Christie, that I am a penniless wretch, dependent on

 Prev. P 9/247 next