I am not,
I confess, given to the pleasures of the table, but if anything could move
me to enthusiasm in dietary matters, the sight of your sideboard, my dear
sister-in-law, would do so. I commend the bacon and eggs to you, Quest, or
if you prefer sausages, those long, thin ones are home-made and delicious.
Does Mrs. Bland still cure our hams, Julia?"
"Her daughter does," Lady Ashleigh replied, smiling. "We are almost
self-supporting here. All our daily produce, of course, comes from the
home farm. Tea or coffee, Mr. Quest?"
"Coffee, if you please," Quest decided, returning from his visit to the
sideboard. "Is Lord Ashleigh a late riser?"
"Not by any means," his wife declared. "He very often gets up and rides in
the park before breakfast. I don't know where he is this morning. He
didn't even come in to see me. I think we must send up."
She touched an electric bell under her foot and a moment or two later the
butler appeared.
"Go up and see how long your master will be," Lady Ashleigh directed.
"Very good, your ladyship."
The man was backing through the doorway in his usual dignified manner when
he was suddenly pushed to one side. The valet who had waited upon Quest,
and who was Lord Ashleigh's own servant, rushed into the room. His face
was white. He had forgotten all decorum. He almost shouted to Lady
Ashleigh.
"Your ladyship--the master! Something has happened! He won't move!
He--he--"
They all rose to their feet. Quest groaned to himself.
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