Andrée, I discovered, had a great capacity for enjoyment, and it was gratifying that she was so thankful to us for taking her away from a life that would have been distasteful to her. Miss Carruthers felt something similar, but not to the same extent; and in any case she did not show her feelings as readily as Andrée did.
“I love old houses,” Andrée said one day, “particularly those with a history.” She wanted to know all about Marchlands and would study the portraits of past Greenhams and ask questions about them. I knew very little of them.
“You will have to ask my father,” I said.
“He would be too busy just now, with all that is going on, to bother with my curiosity,” replied Andrée. “By the way, what of that house…is it Milton Priory? I heard some of the servants talking about it. I’d love to have a look at it.”
“It’s about two miles from here,” I said. “We could go and take a look at it. It has stood empty for some years. It’s one of those places that get a reputation for being haunted.”
“So some of the servants were saying.”
“Strange noises?” I said. “Weeping and wailing and lights appearing in the windows. That’s the usual thing.”
“Something like that.”
“It’s quite derelict really. I don’t know who owns it. There’s nothing much to see really.”
“Still, I’d like to look at it sometime.”
“Tomorrow then. Let’s ride there. I don’t suppose Miss Carruthers will mind.”
The next day, when we get to the stables, Andrée reminded me of my promise to go to Milton Priory.
“All right,” I said. “But prepare for a disappointment.”
“Is that the old place surrounded by shrubs?” asked Miss Carruthers.
“That sounds like an apt description,” I replied.
I had not seen the place for about two years. I noticed at once that it had changed. The shrubs were as unkempt as ever, but it had lost that unlived-in look. Was it because the windows had been cleaned?
“Fascinating,” said Andrée. “Yes…it does look haunted. Do you know its history?”
“No…nothing at all,” I replied. “Except that it has been empty for a long time and nobody seems to want to buy it. I don’t know whether it’s up for sale or not. I’ve not heard of its being so.”
“Could we go a little nearer?” asked Andrée.
“I can’t imagine anyone would mind if we did,” I said.
We urged our horses closer to the shrubs, and as we did so, a large Alsatian dog came bounding toward us. He looked fierce and forbidding.
“Angus,” said a voice. “What is it, boyo?”
A man was coming toward us. His shabby tweeds and unkempt appearance fitted the house. He was middle-aged, with a tawny beard and he carried a gun.
“Sit, Angus,” he said.
Angus sat but continued to regard us in a glowering and threatening manner.
“What are you doing here?” asked the man. “Do you know you are trespassing?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We didn’t think we were. The house is empty, isn’t it? We were just looking.”
“You don’t come any farther until I know your business.”
I was amazed. I said, “I’m from Marchlands.”
“Oh, aye,” he replied.
“We just thought we would look round. We have done so before. Please tell us who you are.”
“I’m the caretaker,” he said.
“Caretaker at Milton Priory!”
“From now on.”
“Is it up for sale?” I asked.
“Reckon.”
“I hadn’t heard.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Someone must have bought it,” I said.
“Could be so.”
“I see. I’m sorry. It has been empty so long and no one ever minded before. We just thought we’d explore a little.”
“Well, I wouldn’t try exploring round here anymore if I were you. Angus wouldn’t like it and Angus can be a pretty fierce customer, I can tell you.”
“Well, now we know,” I said. “I’m sorry, Andrée. That’s all you are going to see of Milton Priory.”
“It’s disappointing,” she said. “I should have loved to know the history of the place. I wonder who will come here?”
“No doubt we shall know in good time. They will be my father’s constituents, so he will soon be after their votes.”
Miss Carruthers said it was an interesting place. A little too early for William and Mary, she mused. There was a touch of the Stuart…early Stuart. “It will need a good deal of restoration, I imagine. How long did you say it had been empty, Lucinda?”
“I’m not sure. But a long time.”
We rode back to Marchlands, and then we went to the hospital to see if our services were wanted.
At the weekend my father came down, as he often did. My mother was eager to tell him how everything was progressing.
I remember, at dinner that night, he told us how unpopular the Prime Minister was becoming.
“The war is still going on, so they look round for a scapegoat. Poor Asquith! He fits the case very well. Especially with Lloyd George waiting to spring into his shoes. Margot Asquith is furious. If anyone can keep the old man going, it will be his formidable wife.”
Dr. Edgerton was dining with us that night. He was seated next to Miss Carruthers.
“Lloyd George is a very able man, I believe,” said the doctor.
“Perhaps that fiery Welshman will have all the energy which Asquith lacks,” suggested Miss Carruthers.
“Oh, I’m not sure of that,” replied the doctor, and he and Miss Carruthers went into a discussion about the merits of Lloyd George and Asquith.
My father said, “I’m sorry for the old man, but people are beginning to wonder whether it wouldn’t be better if he resigned in favor of L.G.”
“What of Churchill?” asked my mother.
“Oh, he’s in disgrace over the Dardanelles. He was so sure it was the right course to take. I suppose he is not all that certain now.”
“Are things very bad?” I asked.
“Never so bad as the press makes out. It’s the bad news they find sensational. And if there is someone they can possibly blame, they will. People are always more interested in the bad than the good. Let us say that things could be better.”
My mother said, “We were talking about Milton Priory the other day. Lucinda was saying that they have a caretaker there with a fierce dog.”
I fancied my father looked alert. “Milton Priory?” he said. “What’s this about it?”
“It seems someone’s making it ready to sell. Lucinda went there to have a look at the house…to show Andrée in fact.”
“I was with them,” said Miss Carruthers. “The caretaker was rather officious and told us to keep away…in no uncertain terms.”
I explained to my father exactly what had happened. “The dog was very fierce. He looked as though all he needed was his master’s command to tear us all apart.”
“I expect the man knew how to handle him. Did you get the idea that they were preparing the house for sale?”
“That seemed most likely.”
“We shall know in good time,” said my mother. “I wonder who the new owners will be.”
“I hope they will be good little Liberals,” I said. “Otherwise we shall have to convert them.”
My father smiled at me. “How was the place different?” he asked.
“I think the windows had been cleaned…and then, of course, there was the caretaker. I suppose they will have to smarten it up if they hope to sell at a reasonable price.”
“We’ll watch and await developments,” put in my mother.