Some step had to be taken."
"Quite so," said Coombe. "Suppose you step into the dining-room."
He led the pair into the room and pointed to chairs, but neither
the agent nor his attendant was calm enough to sit down.
Coombe merely stood and explained himself.
"I quite understand," he said. "You are entirely within your
rights. Mrs. Gareth-Lawless is, naturally, not able to attend to
business. For the present--as a friend of her late husband's--I
will arrange matters for her. I am Lord Coombe. She does not wish
to give up the house. Don't send any more possible tenants. Call
at Coombe House in an hour and I will give you a cheque."
There were a few awkward apologetic moments and then the front door
opened and shut, the hansom jingled away and Coombe returned to
the drawing-room. Robin was still shrieking.
"She wants some more condensed milk," he said. "Don't be frightened.
Go and give her some. I know an elderly woman who understands
children. She was a nurse some years ago. I will send her here at
once. Kindly give me the account books. My housekeeper will send
you some servants. The trades-people will come for orders."
Feather was staring at him.
"W-will they?" she stammered. "W-will everything--?"
"Yes--everything," he answered. "Don't be frightened. Go upstairs
and try to stop her. I must go now. I never heard a creature yell
with such fury.
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