knowledge,” he went on.
“You are very kind,” said Miss Bell coolly.
“Proud rather,” said the man. “It is an extraordinary engineering feat, and the climax of that amazing gentleman’s work.”
“Indeed, yes,” remarked Miss Bell.
“An impressive approach to Cornwall,” he went on.
“I am sure you are right.”
“Well, Madam, that you can witness for yourself.”
Miss Bell bowed her head. “We are coming into Saltash,” she said to me. “Now … we are in Cornwall.”
“I say Welcome to the Duchy,” said the man.
“Thank you.”
Miss Bell closed her eyes to indicate that the conversation was at an end and I turned my attention to the window.
We travelled in silence for some time while I was very much aware of the man—particularly the elder one—and I knew Miss Bell was too. I felt faintly annoyed with her. Why did she suspect them of indecorous behaviour towards two unprotected females? The thought made me want to laugh.
He had noticed my lips twitch and he smiled at me. Then his eyes went to my travelling bag on the rack.
“I believe,” he said to his companion, “that this is rather a pleasant coincidence.”
Miss Bell continued to look out of the window, implying that their conversation was of no interest to her and indeed that she could not hear it. I could not attain the same nonchalance—nor could I see why I should pretend to.
“Coincidence?” said the other. “What do you mean?”
The elder one caught my eye and smiled. “Am I right in assuming that you are Miss Tressidor?”
“Why yes,” I replied in some amazement; then I realized that he must have seen my name on the label attached to my travelling bag.
“And you are on your way to Miss Mary Tressidor of Tressidor Manor in Lancarron?”
“But yes.”
Miss Bell was all attention now.
“Then I must introduce myself. My name is Paul Landower. I am one of Miss Tressidor’s close neighbours. This is my brother, Jago.”
“How did you know my charge is Miss Tressidor?” demanded Miss Bell.
“The label on her luggage is clearly visible. I trust you have no objection to my making myself known?”
“But of course not,” I said.
The younger one—Jago—spoke then: “We did hear you were coming to the Manor,” he said.
“How did you know that?” I demanded.
“Servants … ours and Miss Tressidor’s. They always know everything. I hope we shall be seeing you during your stay.”
“Yes, perhaps so.”
“You gentleman … er … you have been visiting Plymouth?” asked Miss Bell, stating the obvious; but I guessed she wanted to take charge of the conversation.
“On business,” said the younger.
“You must allow us to help you with your luggage when we reach Liskeard,” the elder one said.
“It’s kind of you,” Miss Bell told him, “but everything has been arranged.”
“Well, if you need us … I suppose Miss Tressidor will send her trap to meet you.”
“I understand we are being met.”
Miss Bell’s manner was really icy. She had a notion that perfect gentlemen did not speak to ladies without an introduction. I think the elder one—Paul—was aware of this and amused by it.
Silence prevailed until we came into Liskeard. Paul Landower took my travelling bag and signed to Jago to take Miss Bell’s, and in spite of her protests they came with us to make sure that our luggage was put off the train. The porter touched his cap with the utmost respect and I could see that the Landowers were very important people in the neighbourhood.
My trunk was carried out to the waiting trap.
“Here are your ladies, Joe,” said Paul Landower to the driver.
“Thank ‘ee, sir,” said Joe.
We were helped into the conveyance and we started off. I looked back and saw the Landower brothers standing there looking after us, their hats in their hands, bowing—somewhat ironically, I thought. But I was laughing inwardly and my spirits were considerably lifted by the encounter.
Miss Bell and I
“You are very kind,” said Miss Bell coolly.
“Proud rather,” said the man. “It is an extraordinary engineering feat, and the climax of that amazing gentleman’s work.”
“Indeed, yes,” remarked Miss Bell.
“An impressive approach to Cornwall,” he went on.
“I am sure you are right.”
“Well, Madam, that you can witness for yourself.”
Miss Bell bowed her head. “We are coming into Saltash,” she said to me. “Now … we are in Cornwall.”
“I say Welcome to the Duchy,” said the man.
“Thank you.”
Miss Bell closed her eyes to indicate that the conversation was at an end and I turned my attention to the window.
We travelled in silence for some time while I was very much aware of the man—particularly the elder one—and I knew Miss Bell was too. I felt faintly annoyed with her. Why did she suspect them of indecorous behaviour towards two unprotected females? The thought made me want to laugh.
He had noticed my lips twitch and he smiled at me. Then his eyes went to my travelling bag on the rack.
“I believe,” he said to his companion, “that this is rather a pleasant coincidence.”
Miss Bell continued to look out of the window, implying that their conversation was of no interest to her and indeed that she could not hear it. I could not attain the same nonchalance—nor could I see why I should pretend to.
“Coincidence?” said the other. “What do you mean?”
The elder one caught my eye and smiled. “Am I right in assuming that you are Miss Tressidor?”
“Why yes,” I replied in some amazement; then I realized that he must have seen my name on the label attached to my travelling bag.
“And you are on your way to Miss Mary Tressidor of Tressidor Manor in Lancarron?”
“But yes.”
Miss Bell was all attention now.
“Then I must introduce myself. My name is Paul Landower. I am one of Miss Tressidor’s close neighbours. This is my brother, Jago.”
“How did you know my charge is Miss Tressidor?” demanded Miss Bell.
“The label on her luggage is clearly visible. I trust you have no objection to my making myself known?”
“But of course not,” I said.
The younger one—Jago—spoke then: “We did hear you were coming to the Manor,” he said.
“How did you know that?” I demanded.
“Servants … ours and Miss Tressidor’s. They always know everything. I hope we shall be seeing you during your stay.”
“Yes, perhaps so.”
“You gentleman … er … you have been visiting Plymouth?” asked Miss Bell, stating the obvious; but I guessed she wanted to take charge of the conversation.
“On business,” said the younger.
“You must allow us to help you with your luggage when we reach Liskeard,” the elder one said.
“It’s kind of you,” Miss Bell told him, “but everything has been arranged.”
“Well, if you need us … I suppose Miss Tressidor will send her trap to meet you.”
“I understand we are being met.”
Miss Bell’s manner was really icy. She had a notion that perfect gentlemen did not speak to ladies without an introduction. I think the elder one—Paul—was aware of this and amused by it.
Silence prevailed until we came into Liskeard. Paul Landower took my travelling bag and signed to Jago to take Miss Bell’s, and in spite of her protests they came with us to make sure that our luggage was put off the train. The porter touched his cap with the utmost respect and I could see that the Landowers were very important people in the neighbourhood.
My trunk was carried out to the waiting trap.
“Here are your ladies, Joe,” said Paul Landower to the driver.
“Thank ‘ee, sir,” said Joe.
We were helped into the conveyance and we started off. I looked back and saw the Landower brothers standing there looking after us, their hats in their hands, bowing—somewhat ironically, I thought. But I was laughing inwardly and my spirits were considerably lifted by the encounter.
Miss Bell and I
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