The Red-Headed Man by Fergus Hume — Read

Wray House was a charming villa on the banks of the Thames. The view of the mansion from the river was singularly picturesque. From the banks a smooth green lawn of closely shorn turf, diversified by oval flower-beds, brilliant with scarlet geranium, sloped gently up to a terrace, bordered by a balustrade of white marble. On this plateau rose the house, a fairy edifice of two storeys, the upper smaller than the lower. A colonnade ran round the house, and supported an upper balcony, broad and spacious, on which opened the French windows of the bedrooms. French windows also gave access to the colonnade, which was liberally sprinkled with small tables and lounging chairs. The whole building painted a brilliant white had, in appearance and design, a tropical look, more suited to equatorial regions than to the cool green misty island of England. This miniature paradise was encircled by a belt of trees.

This particular summer, however, had proved particularly hot, so that Wray House was a perfect residence, during the sultry months of June and August. Used to the ardent heats of South America Donna Inez, as Mrs. Grent loved to be called, found the warmth delightful, and basked like a snake in the golden sunshine. In a large degree her niece was charmed with the unusual splendour of the summer, and the two Spanish women passed most of their time lounging in the colonnade, or swinging in silken hammock suspended from the branches of convenient trees. To them house and life and summer recalled the languid lazy existence of far distant Lima. There laziness is an art, and idleness has been reduced to a silence.