e
tenancy with a fortnight's notice at any time after the first month."

I was dumbfounded. The place, unique and beautiful as it was, had been
allowed to run down so disastrously, and everything outside and inside
seemed to be in such a state of disrepair, that it was worth at most a
rent of thirty guineas a week. Terry might call himself rich, but surely
he'd not consent to being rooked to that extent, in order to be landlord
to his love. I expected him to protest, to bargain, and beat the lady
down. But he brushed the financial question away like a cobweb, and
began to haggle about the rooms.

"The money part will be all right," he said. "But I want a lady to come
here--a lady who's been ill. She must have the prettiest rooms there
are: something overlooking the moat, with jolly oriel windows and plenty
of old oak."

Lady Scarlett smiled. "There is no obstacle to that! The suite I specify
is at the far end of the house, in a comparatively modern wing, and most
people would think it the least desirable. We like it because it is
compact and private. We can keep it going with one servant. It is called
the 'garden court suite' because it is built round a small square. There
is a separate outside entrance, as well as one door communicating with
the house. The suite has generally been occupied by a bachelor heir."

As she talked, Terry reflected. "Look here, Lady Scarlett!" he
exclaimed, just contriving not to break in. "I've half a mind to confide
in you. The truth is, I want to pose as the owner of this place. I
suppose you wouldn't sell it?"

"We could not if we would," replied the daughter of the German
wine-seller. "It is entailed and the entail cannot be broken till our
son comes of age."

"That settles _that_! But you said beforehand, nothing would induce you
to turn out----"

"No money you could offer: not a thousand, not ten thousand a week--at
least, at present. The garden court suite is the one solution."

"Well, so be it! But--I beg your pardon if I'm rude--could you--er--seem
not to be there? Could I say I'd lent the rooms to someone I didn't like
to turn out? If you'd consent, I'd make it two hundred a week."

Lady Scarlett's blackberry-and-skim-milk eyes lit. "You want the lady to
believe that you have bought Dun Moat?"

For answer, he told her of our advertisement, and the result. I thought
this a mistake. You'd only to look at the woman to see that she'd no
sense of humour; and to confide in a