The Heath Hover Mystery

arrival of a girl relative--and that an attractive one, he hadreason to believe--should not inspire some modicum of pleasurableanticipation. What would she be like, all round, he found himself, forthe fiftieth time, wondering?

  There was a slight movement beside him. The little black kitten hadleaped on to the table, and sat there purring softly, its green goldeyes staring roundly out of a little ball of fluffiness. Then, with onelight, scarcely perceptible, movement it transferred itself to hisshoulder and sat there, purring louder and more contentedly than ever.

  "Ah, poogie?" he said, pressing the little fluffy ball against his ear."You'll have some one else to love now. I wonder if she will though.Yes, of course she must."

  The light waggonette, which, with the cart, constituted the sole wheelmotive power at Heath Hover, swung easily over the hardened snow; butonce under way, Mervyn felt himself beset with misgivings. What onearth had he been thinking about--or rather not been thinking about--tobring an open conveyance to meet a girl who was just recovering from anattack of "flu" and a fairly hard one at that? In the cloudlesssunniness of the day this was a side of things he had entirelyoverlooked. Well, he would leave his own conveyance at Clancehurst andcharter a closed fly.

  But when he reached the station, the 2:57 from Victoria was justsignalled. The station was busy and bustling as usual, and he did notcare to risk not being there when his niece arrived. So he left thetrap in charge of a hanger-on and went on to the platform.

  Quite a number were getting out of the train as it drew up, nearlypunctual to time. For a moment he felt bewildered, and was movingrapidly among the alighting passengers, scanning each face. But noneseemed to answer the description given by Violet Clinock's glowing pen,as to her friend's outward appearance.

  Then he became aware of being himself a centre of interest. A girl wasstanding there, looking intently at him--a girl, plainly dressed, with apale face and golden hair framed in a wide black hat, and her straightcarriage and erectly held head made her look taller than she actuallywas. As he turned, an exclamation escaped her, and the colour suffusedher cheeks, leaving them paler than before. And the look in her eyeswas positively a startled one. Small wonder that it was so, for,standing there in the hurrying throng, Melian Seward almost thought shewas looking at her dead father.

  The likeness was extraordinary. The same face, the same features, eventhe cut of the grizzling, pointed beard; the same height, the same setof the shoulders. Good Heavens! The farewell on the terminus platform,the joke about the insurance ticket--small wonder that she should havereeled unsteadily as though beneath a shock. Mervyn made a hasty stepforward, both hands extended.

  "My dear child, there is no mistaking you," he said warmly. "You havethe regular Mervyn stamp. But you are not looking at all the thing,"with a glance of very great concern. "Well, well, we'll soon put thatright here. Come along now. Porter, take this lady's things. Come andshow him what you've got in the van, dear."

  He took her arm, and Melian, who had not expected anything like soaffectionate a welcome, felt in her present tottery state inclined tobreak down utterly. This he saw, and kept her answering questions aboutherself, and other things, the while the luggage was being got out andtaken across.

  "You will have to get outside of a hot cup of tea, dear, while they areloading up the things," he said, leading the way to the refreshmentroom. "Oh, and by the by--" For the idea had come back to him, and nowhe put it to her that she would not be up to a five mile drive in anopen trap, so it would only mean a little longer to wait while he wentacross to the inn opposite and ordered a closed one. But opposition methim at once.

  "Why, Uncle Seward," she exclaimed, "that's the very thing I've beenlooking forward to--a glorious open air drive through the lovelycountry, and it's such a ripping afternoon. Do let's have it. Why,it'll do me all the world of good. Fancy being shut up in a close,fusty fly! And there's going to be such a ripping sunset too, I couldsee there was coming along in the train. No. Do let's drive in theopen."

  "Certainly, dear. I was only thinking that after a bad bout of `flu'you have to be careful--very careful."

  "Yes--yes. But this air--why, it has done me good already; it's doingme good every minute. And I've plenty of wraps. The drive will beripping."

  He looked at her admiringly. The colour had come back to her cheeks andthe blue eyes danced with delighted anticipation.

  "Very well," he said. "Here's your tea. Is it all as you like it?Yes? Well, I'll just go and see that all your things are aboard."

  He went into the bar department, drank a glass of brandy and water, thenwent out to the waggonette. Everything was stowed safe and snug. Therewas certainly not a "mountain of luggage" he noticed, but it struck himthat Melian's "plenty of wraps" was a bit of imagination. He shed hisfur coat and threw a French cloak over his shoulders. Then he went backto her.

  She was ready, and the blue eyes had taken on quite a new light--verydifferent eyes now, to when their sole look out was bounded by a patchof grey murk as a background to bizarre and hideous patterns in chimneypots.

  "Here's the shandradan, dear. Now are you absolutely dead cert you'reequal to a five mile open drive. Here--put on this."

  "This" was the fur coat--and she objected.

  "Tut-tut, I'm skipper of this ship, and I won't have opposition. So--inyou get."

  He had hoisted it on to her, and now enveloped in it she climbed to thefront seat beside him. He arranged a corresponding thickness of doublerug over her knees.

  "Thank you, sir," said the porter, catching what was thrown to him."Beg pardon, Mr Mervyn," he went on, sinking his voice, "but hasanything more been 'eard about--"

  But Mervyn drew his whip across the pony's hind quarters with asharpness that that long suffering quadruped had certainly nevermerited, and the vehicle sprang into lively motion, which was all theanswer the ill-advised querist obtained.

  "Wasn't he asking you something?" said Melian, as they spun over therailway bridge above the station. The town lay beneath and behind; anold church tower just glimpsed above tall bare elms.

  "I dare say. But if we are going to get home before you get chilly, wecan't stop to answer all sorts of idiotic questions."

  Even then the reply struck Melian as odd, less so perhaps than thechange in her kinsman's manner while making it. But she said:

  "Before I get chilly. Why I'm wrapped up like--Shackleton, or Peary, orany of them. In your coat too. It was quite wrong of you to haveinsisted upon my wearing it, and I had plenty of wraps."

  "Had you? As a prologue to our time together child, I may as well tellyou I am a man of fads. One is that of being skipper in my own ship.You obeyed orders, so there's no more to be said."

  It was put so kindly, so pleasantly. The tone was everything, and againthe girl felt a lump rise to her throat, for it reminded her all of herdead father. Just the sort of thing he would have said; just the sortof tone in which he would have said it.

  CHAPTER TEN.

  OF THE BRIGHTENING OF HEATH HOVER.

  They had left the outskirts of the town behind, and were bowling along atree-hung road, which in summer would have been a green tunnel. Thebrown woods stood out above the whitened landscape, sombre in theirwinter nakedness, but always beautiful, over beyond an open, snowpowdered stubble. Then between coverts of dark firs, where pheasantscrowed, flapping their way up to their nightly roost. Past a hamletembedded in tall, naked trees, then more dark firwoods interstudded withbirch where the heathery openings broke the uniform evergreen--then outagain for a space--on a bit of heathery upland which would be glowingcrimson in golden August.

  "You can see around here for a bit," said Mervyn, pointing with hiswhip. "Away there on the ridge, that tower is Lower Gidding, so called,presumably because Upper Gidding, ten miles away, is about two hundredfeet lower down to the sea level. Beyond that last wooded ridge butone, is my shop--our shop I mean."

  "It's lovely," replied the girl looking round w
ith animation, and takingin the whole landscape.

  "Yes, perfectly lovely. And look. Here's the sunset I told you we weregoing to get."

  On the north eastern sky line, an opaque bank of clouds had heaved up--abank of clouds that seemed to bode another snowfall. The sun, sinkingin a fiery bed, away in the cloudless west, was touching this--and lo,in a trice, the mountainous masses of the rising cloud-tier were firsttinged, than bathed in a flood of glowing copper red. Between, the longtongues of dark woodland stood out from the whitened ground. The barkof a dog, from this or that distant farmhouse, came up clear on thesilent distance, and then from this or that covert, arose the melodioushoot of owls,