‘Yes,’ she said aloud.  ’To get him here without letting him know that I have any other object than that of getting a useful man —­that’s the difficulty—­and that I think I can master.’

She rang for the new maid, a placid woman of forty with a few grey hairs.

‘Ask Miss Graye if she can come to me.’

Cytherea was not far off, and came in.

‘Do you know anything about architects and surveyors?’ said Miss Aldclyffe abruptly.

‘Know anything?’ replied Cytherea, poising herself on her toe to consider the compass of the question.

‘Yes—­know anything,’ said Miss Aldclyffe.

‘Owen is an architect and surveyor’s draughtsman,’ the maiden said, and thought of somebody else who was likewise.

’Yes! that’s why I asked you.  What are the different kinds of work comprised in an architect’s practice?  They lay out estates, and superintend the various works done upon them, I should think, among other things?’

’Those are, more properly, a land or building steward’s duties—­at least I have always imagined so.  Country architects include those things in their practice; city architects don’t.’

’I know that, child.  But a steward’s is an indefinite fast and loose profession, it seems to me.  Shouldn’t you think that a man who had been brought up as an architect would do for a steward?’

Cytherea had doubts whether an architect pure would do.

The chief pleasure connected with asking an opinion lies in not adopting it.  Miss Aldclyffe replied decisively—­

’Nonsense; of course he would.  Your brother Owen makes plans for country buildings—­such as cottages, stables, homesteads, and so on?’

‘Yes; he does.’

‘And superintends the building of them?’

‘Yes; he will soon.’

‘And he surveys land?’

‘O yes.’

’And he knows about hedges and ditches—­how wide they ought to be, boundaries, levelling, planting trees to keep away the winds, measuring timber, houses for ninety-nine years, and such things?’

’I have never heard him say that; but I think Mr. Gradfield does those things.  Owen, I am afraid, is inexperienced as yet.’

’Yes; your brother is not old enough for such a post yet, of course.  And then there are rent-days, the audit and winding up of tradesmen’s accounts.  I am afraid, Cytherea, you don’t know much more about the matter than I do myself. . . .  I am going out just now,’ she continued.  ’I shall not want you to walk with me to-day.  Run away till dinner-time.’

Miss Aldclyffe went out of doors, and down the steps to the lawn:  then turning to the left, through a shrubbery, she opened a wicket and passed into a neglected and leafy carriage-drive, leading down the hill.  This she followed till she reached the point of its greatest depression, which was also the lowest ground in the whole grove.