Free Lace for Milady by Joan Smith

know it, but we could go without selling the house."
    The knocker sounded. It was nine o’clock in the evening. If George came in the morning, he came at eleven; if in the evening, at nine. I assumed we were to have the pleasure of looking at the back of whatever magazine he chose to read this evening, and waited for his shuffling entry. The firm tread on the hallway floor told me it was not George even before the deep voice spoke. “Evening, Wilkins. Are the ladies at home?”
    It was Clavering, come in person for a reply to his invitation. He was certainly eager to buy my house. The evening took an unexpected turn. Slack found herself a beau, but I shall write all about it in the next chapter. It deserves its own, and I am too fagged to do it justice at this time.
     

Chapter Five
     
    Clavering waited to be announced on this occasion, adopting formal manners to match his attire. He wore black evening clothes, jacket, and pantaloons. I surmised he had been out to dinner, but was incorrect.
    “I have just seen the last of my guests home and took the liberty of dropping in to see if you had my invitation,” he said, helping himself to a chair with a mere vestige of a bow, a ducking of the head really toward us both in turn.
    If he had been seeing guests home, I took for granted they were female guests and felt some little anger that he invited us to tea, others to dinner. I had placed little reliance on my aunt’s statement that he did not entertain. Certainly a man in his position must entertain lavishly.
    “Yes, I just received it this moment. Miss Slack forgot to give it to me earlier. I was out all day. Very kind of you to offer, but I’m afraid we are busy tomorrow.”
    “All day? We could make it a morning visit, if that is more convenient for you."
    “Yes, all day,” I said firmly.
    “And the evening? Are you free for dinner?”
    “We are dining out,” I lied amiably. Slack told me later I used a very spiteful tone of voice, but that was only her anger at my rejecting all his offers.
    “How busy you manage to make yourself in this quiet little backwater. Morning, noon, and night.”
    “Quite so. Taking advantage of the good weather while it lasts, you know, and the roads are passable.”
    Slack’s temper came to the boil and then boiled over. “We could cancel tea with Lady Inglewood very easily,” she informed me.
    We had no plans for tea with my aunt, no plans of any sort, but this she considered would force me to accept Clavering’s invitation. “I wouldn’t like to do that,” I told her with a repressive stare.
    “Surely she would forgive you. You are neighbours. You might visit her any time; I am here only for a few days and would like to see you at Belview,” Clavering said.
    I felt a little pang then at my refusal. Really I was very curious to see Belview, and if he would soon be leaving, when might we have another opportunity? I sat undecided, and silent.
    "I should think you would be interested to see it, since it is the model of your own home. I had thought to give you a tour of the house. It has some interesting features—a Marine Room with a good collection of shells, and some quite intriguing Roman artifacts.”
    “Well, perhaps..."I said, intercepting a vigorous nod from Slack.
    “Your aunt will not mind in the least. It’s settled you come to tea at four o’clock,” Clavering said in a very high-handed manner, then turned immediately to other topics. “As you were away all day, I assumed you did not ride at all?”
    “No, I drove over to Eastbourne with Mr. McMaster. It seems a charming city.”
    “They have a fair museum,” he answered. I had not seen it, nor heard that it possessed such a place.
    “What sort of museum?” Slack asked.
    “Oh, a Roman museum, of course,” he answered, as though there were no other kind. “About your grate, Miss Denver, has it ceased troubling you with its noise?”
    “Yes, it has been very good lately. Not a sound out of it today. I