dBooks desire

Your great-uncle, who died a year ago, spent
more than fifty thousand pounds on repairing and refurbishing it, they
say. He built the big drawing-room there, where the stone is a little
lighter; it is fifty-five feet long. Just think, fifty thousand pounds!"
"It is a large sum," said Owen, in an unimaginative sort of way, while
in his heart he wondered what on earth he should do with this white
elephant of a mediaeval castle, and its drawing room fifty-five feet
long.
"He does not seem much impressed," thought Beatrice to herself, as she
tugged away at the postern bell; "I think he must be stupid. He looks
stupid."
Presently the door was opened by an active-looking little old woman with
a high voice.
"Mrs. Thomas," thought Owen to himself; "she is even worse than I
expected."
"Now you must please to go away," began the formidable housekeeper in
her shrillest key; "it is too late to show visitors over. Why, bless us,
it's you, Miss Beatrice, with a strange man! What do you want?"
Beatrice looked at her companion as a hint that he should explain
himself, but he said nothing.


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