Mr. Stevens said his goodbyes and left me alone in the ancient manor house. This would be my first night in my ancestral home, and, unfortunately, I’d be spending it alone since Margret was stuck in New York for at least another week.

Father had told me of the existence of the manor, but I had never really thought of it as a real place or ever dreamed I would be the last of my breed and so inherit the place.

Actually, for the most part, Father, didn’t mention his old homeland, but I had once asked him about the manor, being a bit more persistent than usual. He only said that it was owned by Hugh, as was any occupant. He had hated his visits to the ancient house and called his uncle cruel. “Though related by blood, he was no relation to me or my parents.”

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