Aunt Janet was on the step when they reached the farm: her eagle face
was thinner, quite fleshless; in her black silk frock, shivered at the
seams, and the great cairngorm brooch, she looked quite terrifying.
"So you're back, Marcella? I knew you would be coming back," she said.
Louis wondered if this were the stock greeting at Lashnagar.
"I wonder what you've got for going across the world?" she said. "You're
not well."
"I've got my two men," laughed Marcella, as she kissed the old lady.
"Humphm!" said Aunt Janet. "He'd have found you out if you'd stayed here
all the time."
"Do you know, Marcella," said Louis, as they went along the windy
passages to her father's room in which Aunt Janet had elected to put
them. "I've an extraordinary feeling that I've nothing to do with you
any more. All these people--they seem to own you! You're an elusive
young beggar, you know. First Kraill--I had to ask his permission to
keep you. Now a whole village full!"
She shook her head and put her hand in his.
"Who's got me most, do you think?"
He answered as he thought.
There was a great spurting wood fire on the hearth in the book-room. As
she looked round Marcella saw that most of the furniture left in the
farm had been brought in. Jean came in, carrying a dish of scones.
Andrew ran straight to her, just as Marcella used to.
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