"It might be a hundred miles from anywhere."
"It's a thousand miles from anywhere!" muttered Harper. "Nothing to do
here!"
"No hunting, shooting, fishing?" asked Collingwood. "Get tired of 'em?
Well, why not make a private golf-links in your park? You'd get a fine
sporting course round there."
"That's a good notion, Harper," observed Nesta, with some eagerness.
"You could have it laid out this winter."
Harper suddenly looked at Collingwood.
"Going to stop in Barford?" he asked.
"Till I settle my grandfather's affairs--yes," answered Collingwood.
"Come and see us again," said Harper. "Come for the night--we've got a
jolly good billiard table."
"Do!" added Nesta heartily.
"Since you're so kind, I will, then," replied Collingwood. "But not for
a few days."
He drove off--to wonder why he had visited Normandale Grange at all. For
Mrs. Mallathorpe's explanation of the letter was doubtless the right
one: Collingwood, little as he had seen of Antony Bartle, knew what a
veritable sleuth-hound the old man was where rare books or engravings
were concerned. Yet--why the sudden exclamation on finding that paper?
Why the immediate writing of the letter to Mrs. Mallathorpe? Why the
setting off to Eldrick & Pascoe's office as soon as the letter was
written? It all looked as if the old man had found some document, the
contents of which related to the Mallathorpe family, and was anxious to
communicate its nature to Mrs.
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