The House of Mammon by Fred M. White

Sybil Gosway sat on the terrace at Laurisdale Castle debating in her mind what she should do that beautiful afternoon. She was disappointed that Nest was not coming over. Nest had written a note pleading a bad headache, nor had she suggested that Sybil might come as far as Marlton Grange. Lady Laurisdale had important letters to write that sufficiently occupied her mind to the exclusion of everything else, for she sat grave and preoccupied at luncheon with hardly a word for her companion. An air of depression that troubled Sybil hung over the house and she was glad to escape into the sunshine with a book in her hand.

But it was far too lovely an afternoon to waste over a book, however exciting. The cliff and the blue sea were calling to Sybil, and she could not resist their cry. The book was flung aside, and she set out across the park. She rambled along the cliffs into the valley beyond until she came almost by a kind of instinct, to Oates's farm. It seemed to her that she had made up her mind to come here. She wanted to have a further talk with Givanni about his wonderful flowers.