"
"Mr. Reginald!"
"A squire as I take it, Mrs. Hopkins, is a country gentleman who
lives on his own property. Since my grandfather's time no such
gentleman has lived at Bragton."
"That's true, too, Mr. Reginald. Any way Mr. Morton is coming down
next week."
"I thought he was in America."
"He has come home, for a turn like,--and is staying up in town with
the old lady." The old lady always meant the Honourable Mrs.
Morton.
"And is the old lady coming down with him?"
"I fancy she is, Mr. Reginald. He didn't say as much, but only that
there would be three or four, a couple of ladies he said, and
perhaps more. So I am getting the east bedroom, with the
dressing-room, and the blue room for her ladyship." People about
Bragton had been accustomed to call Mrs. Morton her ladyship.
"That's where she always used to be. Would you come in and see,
Mr. Reginald?"
"Certainly not, Mrs. Hopkins. If you were asking me into a house of
your own, I would go in and see all the rooms and chat with you for
an hour; but I don't suppose I shall ever go into this house again
unless things change very much indeed."
"Then I'm sure I hope they will change, Mr. Reginald." Mrs. Hopkins
had known Reginald Morton as a boy growing up into manhood, had
almost been present at his birth, and had renewed her friendship
while he was staying with Lady Ushant; but of the present squire,
as she called him, she had seen almost nothing, and what she had
once remembered of him had now been obliterated by an absence of
twenty years.
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