THE TUDOR HOUSE

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 69, Issue 264, 20 August 1949, Page 7

THE TUDOR HOUSE

Serial Story

(Copyright)

By Mrs. Stanley-Wench

CHAPTER XXIV. WHAT THE LAWYER SAID “It was tins made us reel you ought to know, although we don’t know that it has got anything to do with Mrs Gregory’s affairs,” he said. “But there was a gentleman down from London, and mother thinks he may lie her lawyer. Just read that, Miss Eden,” and he passed the newspaper to her, where, heavily marked, lay something in the advertisements: “Miss Daphne Eden, late of Trenkills Farm, Fairlnirn, Warwickshire, is requested to communicate with Messrs Bennett, Downing and Downing, of Galloway House, Portman Square, London, W.l, where she will hear of something to her advantage. Any person knowing the whereabouts of the aforesaid, if communicating with Messrs Bennett, Downing and Downing, will be suitably rewarded.” “That has appeared several times,” he said. “Mother said she and I must not do anything without your consent, but when it kept on appearing I thought it was better to come and see you.” ' _ • “You mean,” she asked, “that this has something to do with Mrs Gregory’s death?”

“Well, it might be worth while finding out, Miss Eden,” he said. “At any rate, it commits you to nothing, and you may be better off through it.”. She nodded, asked a fey questions about the chicken farm, learned that it was being carried on the same as usual, and Daphne Eden looked very thoughtful. Those paying pupils were efficient girls, all of them, but with no one at the head of things, it would be impossible to carry on. She suddenly made up her mind. After all, Michael Horde was nothing to do with her now; there would be little likelihood of meeting him; she would go back to the cottage,, and at the same time make an appointment with Messrs Bennett, Downing and Downing, and find out what the “advantage” was. She looked across at Denis Birch with a smile. “Thank you for telling me about this, Denis,” she said. “I shall go. to London to-morrow,” and she rose with an air of dismissal. He got up, too, but his face was flushed, he semed hesitant, and although for a minute or two she was not aware of this, gazed at her with shy adoration. “Miss‘Eden . . . Daphne,” lie began, and then stopped short, for she was not looking at him, and her thoughts seemed far away. In spite of their address, Messrs Bennett, Downing and Downing were old-fashioned, and the little room, m which Daphne waited, smelled fusty and as though it were seldom .used. A lanky-limbed, elderly clerk with face like parchment, came in and lighted the the gas-fire, glancing at Daphne almost reproachfully. “You are five minutes ahead of time, miss,” he said. “Mr Downing will see you in a little while.” Later, he led her through another room, bulging with tin cases, .files, ponderous volumes, and from their ancient, high desks, two grey-haired clerks glanced up as she passed. Daphne was reminded of a graveyard. It seemed to her as though this room was the repository of secrets, buried hopes, a cemetery of scandals. The baize-covered door leading from this connected the outer offices with the ne\ver building, and here light and more harmonious conditions reigened. The room into which she was ushered might have been a modern business office, and the low leather chair into which Mr Downing waved her, after shaking hands, was comfort embodied.

“You have seen our advertisement then, Miss Eden?” he said, seating himself at the leather-topped table. “As I assured my partner, that is by far the most speedy way of reaching a client, likewise far more dignified than employing a private enquiry agent. That of course,” and he placed the tips of his fingers together, smiling at her benevolently, “may be a matter of opinion, but I feel sure you will agree. . . She bent her head, caring; little whether Messrs Bennett, Downing and Downing employed one method or another. “You wanted to see me . . . she began, but he was not. to be hurried, and Daphne had to wait whilst he carefully sauntered through a preamble of arranged conversation, slowly arriving at the point to which ho wished to direct her attention.

“Our client, Mrs Gregory, made a will two years ago,” he said. “As possibly you know, she was a wealthy woman.”

Daphne did not know tins, but gave no sign that the news surprised her.

“When her husband Captain Gregory died out in Kenya, he left everything to her, but since then the estates have been managed under our supervision and under our advice,” he continued. “The property in this country, too, has been left entirely in our hands, Mrs Gregory being content to draw what interest she wished from the income of the various properties. As perhaps you know, the chicken farm she ran at Trenlcills was a mere hobby with her, and was never seriously regarded as a paying proposition.” Again Daphne, not aware of this, gave no sign, beyond the merest inclination of her head.

“Two years ago our client made a will in which you were named as legatee,” he said, eyeing her closely. “The chicken farm, . the freehold of the estate there, and a certain sum ol money, invested properly and under wise surveillance, was left to you. Daphne flushed then.

“I was not aware of this,” she said in a low voice. "Mrs Gregory never spoke of this to me.”

He peered at her over his glasses. “So I understood, when she called me in again, the day before her death,” he said. “It may appear that Mrs Gregory had some premonition of what was to' happen, for although I went down to Trenlcills, at a time when I understood you were absent, she was most insistent that the new codicil should be added and witnessed without delay. As it turned out,” ho bowed toward her, “so far as you are concerned, my dear young lady, she was wise, for unfortunately that night she died in her sleep. Heart failure, of course. She had suffered for years. So what it means is that you are heir-

ess to her estate, ana are solo legatee. That, means you inherit all personal property and monies, which are considerable, as well as certain investments which I will go into and describe.” (To be continued). Tho characters in this story are entirely imaginary. No reference is intended to any living person or to any public or private company.