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by a manager—but Mr. Rockwood supervises the whole estate." As she spoke she led the way to the dining-room, pausing with her hand on the door when Barbara had gone in. "Make yourself comfortable, miss, and I'll see your breakfast is sent up right away."
After breakfast Barbara wandered into the hall again, ^^ and seeing the front door open, strolled out on to the steps, her breath catching as for the first time she saw the view. In that instant she realized that Crags' Height had been built on a small, natural plateau half-way up the mountain, the first fifty yards in front of the house being razed to form a driveway and bordering lawns which reached to a narrow road twisting down into the village; while beyond the road the mountainside fell gradually down into pasture behind which sloped to the edge of the distant sea, scarcely visible in the mists of morning.
Barbara wanted to explore then and there, but knew she would not have time, and was just turning to go back into the house when she saw the figure of a man coming towards her across the fields to the left of the house. As he passed through the belt of trees and came on to the drive she recognized Rockwood and stood waiting for him in case he might have some in structions for her.
He strode with the easy gait of a man unconscious of his surroundings, his eyes on the ground and his expression preoccupied until he looked up and saw her slender figure in the doorway. But his face did not change, and even when he came up to her his "Good morning" was as aloof as if they had never met before.
"You'll catch cold standing out here without a coat," he said curtly.
"I was just admiring the view, I'm not a bit cold."
"Possibly not, but tie air is treacherous and you'd be wise not to go out unless you wear something warm." He glanced at her thin skirt and white blouse. "Haven't you anything more suitable?"
"Several things, but this is warm enough for me at the moment, thank you."
His eyes flickered at the firmness of her tone but he made no reply, and afraid she had sounded rude, Bar bara added: "I have a jacket to this skirt upstairs". Ill put it on when I go and wake your aunt."
"Put the jacket on by all means, but don't bother with my aunt yet. The housekeeper washes and dresses her in the mornings."
He moved past her across the hall and into the dining- room and Barbara followed, her footsteps lightly echo ing his heavy tread on the stone flags.
"When would you like me to go up to Miss Berres ford, then?" she asked.
"Not until eleven o'clock. She has a long day to fill." He went to the sideboard and lifted the lid of the silver coffee-pot. "Ah, I see you've left me some."
"I didn't know you hadn't had breakfast," she re torted defensively.
"I had my breakfast about six o'clock this morning before I went round the estate," he said drily, "so I feel entitled to this."
He poured himself some coffee, and with the cup in his hand went and stood in front of the fire. Barbara looked at him enquiringly but he said nothing further, and she decided to take the opportunity of asking him about her duties.
He seemed faintly irritated at her question. "Haven't I already made them clear?"
"Not entirely. Apart from your aunt telling me she would like me to read and talk to her, I've no idea what I'm expected to do."
"On the contrary, you seem to have a very good idea. If you keep her occupied you'll be doing your job." "Is that all?" "You seem surprised."
"Yes. I can't understand why you needed to employ someone to do it. Surely the housekeeper or a friend—" "The housekeeper has the house to run and we have no friends. Apart from which, even if we had, they would find it no pleasure to stay with my aunt all the time."
Barbara was stung by the hardness of his tone. "I think Miss Berresford is a sweet old lady."
"Then you're well suited to each other," he said calmly.
Not trusting herself to make a retort, Barbara mur mured an excuse and went out of the room, feeling
After breakfast Barbara wandered into the hall again, ^^ and seeing the front door open, strolled out on to the steps, her breath catching as for the first time she saw the view. In that instant she realized that Crags' Height had been built on a small, natural plateau half-way up the mountain, the first fifty yards in front of the house being razed to form a driveway and bordering lawns which reached to a narrow road twisting down into the village; while beyond the road the mountainside fell gradually down into pasture behind which sloped to the edge of the distant sea, scarcely visible in the mists of morning.
Barbara wanted to explore then and there, but knew she would not have time, and was just turning to go back into the house when she saw the figure of a man coming towards her across the fields to the left of the house. As he passed through the belt of trees and came on to the drive she recognized Rockwood and stood waiting for him in case he might have some in structions for her.
He strode with the easy gait of a man unconscious of his surroundings, his eyes on the ground and his expression preoccupied until he looked up and saw her slender figure in the doorway. But his face did not change, and even when he came up to her his "Good morning" was as aloof as if they had never met before.
"You'll catch cold standing out here without a coat," he said curtly.
"I was just admiring the view, I'm not a bit cold."
"Possibly not, but tie air is treacherous and you'd be wise not to go out unless you wear something warm." He glanced at her thin skirt and white blouse. "Haven't you anything more suitable?"
"Several things, but this is warm enough for me at the moment, thank you."
His eyes flickered at the firmness of her tone but he made no reply, and afraid she had sounded rude, Bar bara added: "I have a jacket to this skirt upstairs". Ill put it on when I go and wake your aunt."
"Put the jacket on by all means, but don't bother with my aunt yet. The housekeeper washes and dresses her in the mornings."
He moved past her across the hall and into the dining- room and Barbara followed, her footsteps lightly echo ing his heavy tread on the stone flags.
"When would you like me to go up to Miss Berres ford, then?" she asked.
"Not until eleven o'clock. She has a long day to fill." He went to the sideboard and lifted the lid of the silver coffee-pot. "Ah, I see you've left me some."
"I didn't know you hadn't had breakfast," she re torted defensively.
"I had my breakfast about six o'clock this morning before I went round the estate," he said drily, "so I feel entitled to this."
He poured himself some coffee, and with the cup in his hand went and stood in front of the fire. Barbara looked at him enquiringly but he said nothing further, and she decided to take the opportunity of asking him about her duties.
He seemed faintly irritated at her question. "Haven't I already made them clear?"
"Not entirely. Apart from your aunt telling me she would like me to read and talk to her, I've no idea what I'm expected to do."
"On the contrary, you seem to have a very good idea. If you keep her occupied you'll be doing your job." "Is that all?" "You seem surprised."
"Yes. I can't understand why you needed to employ someone to do it. Surely the housekeeper or a friend—" "The housekeeper has the house to run and we have no friends. Apart from which, even if we had, they would find it no pleasure to stay with my aunt all the time."
Barbara was stung by the hardness of his tone. "I think Miss Berresford is a sweet old lady."
"Then you're well suited to each other," he said calmly.
Not trusting herself to make a retort, Barbara mur mured an excuse and went out of the room, feeling
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