But it meant more than that to her.
Each word vibrated in her consciousness.

Reading that--slight, uncommunicative as it was--had made her feel a pride in their acquaintance.

Her imagination was stirred by the name of the house where his father had lived, where he had probably been brought up.
Apsley Manor; she said it half aloud, and the picture was thrust into her mind.

She could see red gables, old tiled roofs, latticed windows, overlooking sloping lawns, herbaceous borders with the shadows of yew trees lying lazily across them.

She could smell the scent of stocks.