J. J. Bell

“ In the first place, when I saw you come round the corner after the caravan—well, Mr. Main, I have eyes!"
"Heaven knows, you have!" murmured Arnold, looking into them.
"Oh!" said Elfrida, shocked; whereas, as she realised too late, she ought to have said lightly: "Don't be silly!"
"By the way," he remarked, "I've got to go to London on rather urgent business to-morrow. Would you mind if I travelled by your train, Miss Hallis?"
"I hardly think a 'third single' makes it my train, Mr. Main."
"I—I mean, in your compartment?"
"The thirds are usually pretty crowded," she said. ”

“ Before seven he rose and went to the window. Looking upwards, his glance received the promise of another hot day; downwards, it rested a moment on an old-world garden, then leapt to a figure, in dark skirt and white jumper, seated on a bench set against a background of lilac.
At the girl's feet lay a black spaniel, on the bench beside her drowsed a white cat, both of which Arnold had noticed in the inn. He could not see the girl's face, for her dark head was bent over a writing pad, whereon she pencilled industriously.
Arnold was puzzled. There was something familiar about the girl ”

“ Most mysteries have simple explanations. Miss Elfrida was on the staff of a publishing firm, and for a period it had been her duty to attend upon a learned man of an ancient city, for whom the firm was publishing a ponderous and altogether fearsome treatise, and see that he corrected his proofs in a fashion that a mere human compositor could comprehend. ”

“ The learned man, nevertheless, was himself quite human, and genial as well, and Miss Elfrida's task was to some extent "a picnic." As she observed, the learned man was an old dear, who really preferred live young moderns to extinct old sages. At the cricket match he had summoned and introduced sundry young men, and one of them, as it chanced, knew Arnold, and, pointing him out, had told them something of his history. ”

“ Half an hour later Arnold met his host in front of the inn.
"You have a fine old garden, Mr. Hallis."
"'Tis well enough in its way," the landlord replied modestly, though he looked pleased. But he did not invite our friend to view it at close quarters.
"I've changed my mind about going to-day," said Arnold presently. "Can I have that charming room for a few days?"
There was some little hesitation on the landlord's part before he answered: "Why, yes, sir; certainly, sir. Pleased to have ye in 'The White Hart.'"
A happy thought struck Arnold. The girl in the garden must be getting hungry ”

“ Half an hour later he rode up to the parting of two ways. The names on the signpost signified nothing to him. Dismounting, he examined the flinty dust. But he was no scout. Eventually he tossed a coin, and, after a ride of two miles, came to a village, and gratefully beheld the sign of "The White Hart." ”

“ Now, there is nothing extraordinary in a young man riding a bicycle out of an ancient city, even at five o'clock in the morning, and the incident would not now be recorded but for its rather odd circumstances. ”

“ Alfred, the poor gentleman has been on the hot road all day. Go, fetch him a glass o' the good ale, and then show him to Elfrida's room."
The landlord obeying, she went on to explain that Elfrida was her daughter, and only child, now living in London. "Alfred Hallis," she concluded, "is a good husband, bold as a lion wi' the neighbours, but terrible shy wi' stranger customers."
Alfred returned with a tray containing a glass and a small brown jug, and Arnold, who had no taste for liquor, and wanted as little as possible, said: "Only one glass! Why, Mr. ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1934, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 89 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”