The Benevent Treasure

Miss Silver said quietly,

‘It is not an easy position for Miss Olivia.’

‘Oh, well, it is quite all right for her as long as things go on as they are. Underhill and most of the money may belong to Cara, but it is Olivia who manages everything. I don’t suppose poor Cara would have the least idea about what to do. As a matter of fact, I happen to know that Olivia makes out all the cheques and Cara just signs them.’

Miss Silver gave the slight cough with which it was her custom to indicate disapproval.

‘Not at all a satisfactory practice, Louisa.’

‘Oh, no. Papa did not approve of it at all. He always said Olivia had too much influence. And now, you know, they do say that she has got this young Candida Sayle here to try and marry her to Derek Burdon. You see, it would provide for him if anything happened to Cara, and Olivia would naturally expect to go on having a say in everything.’

Stephen said in a voice of cold fury,

‘What a perfectly monstrous idea!’

Miss Louisa looked surprised.

‘Oh, I don’t know, my dear. He is a very good-looking young man, and not as spoiled as Alan Thompson. They might take a fancy to each other. But of course it might not turn out at all as Olivia hoped. There was that rich Mr. Simpson at Ledford – he made over his house and nearly all his money to his son in order to escape the death duties. He was quite old and begi

It was at this moment by the light of a blinding flash of anger that Stephen became aware he was in love with Candida Sayle.

Chapter Eight

It was next day that Miss Silver met Mr. Puncheon in the street. He was hurrying along and had already passed her in a short-sighted ma

‘Miss Silver – I really beg your pardon’t I have been wanting to see you – I was immersed in my thoughts. Indeed I was hoping very much to see you. I suppose you could not spare a little time? My shop is just here. I had only stepped out to post a letter – the answer to an enquiry about a somewhat rare book.’

Miss Silver’s errand not being of a pressing nature, and her own thoughts having been to some extent occupied with Mr. Puncheon’s Problem and some kindred subjects, she acquiesced in her most gracious ma

‘I shall be a little time, Ellen. Do not disturb me unless it is really important.’ After which he came in and shut the door.

A gas fire burned on the hearth. Miss Silver having seated herself, he took the opposite chair, made a small vexed sound, and remarked that he had left the fire on again.

‘And of course it is no economy if you do that. But having been always used to a coal fire, I find that I go out and leave it, and of course that a

Miss Silver smiled.

‘It is not so easy to form new habits. I find the fire very pleasant. Was there something you wished to ask me, Mr. Puncheon?’

He took off his glasses and looked at her in a defenceless ma

‘Oh, yes. I want to ask you whether you would advise and help me professionally. What you said in the train – I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.’

‘And what was it that I said, Mr. Puncheon?’

‘It was in reply to something that I said myself. We were talking about Mrs. Harbord who had worked for the Miss Benevents. I said she had told my sister that my stepson Alan never went away from Underhill. It was a strange thing to say, wasn’t it?’

‘Very strange.’

‘She kept on saying so. Ellen thought it was all nonsense. Why should the Miss Benevents say he had gone away if he hadn’t? That’s what Ellen said. But when I said it to you, Miss Silver, you said – well, you said that you thought Mrs. Harbord ought to be asked to answer that question.’

Miss Silver looked at him and said gravely and clearly,

‘Yes, I remember. I still think so, Mr. Puncheon.’

He was rubbing his glasses with a large white handkerchief. The initial embroidered across the corner did not look like professional work. It went through Miss Silver’s mind to wonder whether it had been the work of his dead wife. He said,

‘Yes – yes – that was what I was coming to. You said that she ought to be asked. And I think so too, but I really can’t bring myself to do it. The daughter-in-law was really very disagreeable – one of those boisterous women. My wife – my late wife I should say – was an extremely gentle person. I really do not feel at all able to cope. And I thought if you would perhaps accept the commission – on a professional footing – ’ He did not seem able to get any farther than that.

Miss Silver looked at him seriously. ‘You wish me to interview Mrs. Harbord?’ The word obviously startled him.

‘Well, I thought – perhaps – you would see her. And if you do not mind, I think it would be better not to say anything to my sister about it. You see, she took such a very decided line, and strife in the house is not what I’ve been accustomed to.’

A few preliminary enquiries informed Miss Silver that Mrs. Harbord, though no longer confined to her bed, was still in a very weak and melancholy way, and that the widowed daughter-in-law whose children were of school age went out to work by the day. Miss Arnold, it appeared, knew all about her.

‘Oh, yes, she goes to the Deanery. Mrs. Mayhew says she is an absolute treasure. Of course she is Chapel. How shocked dear Papa would have been at the idea of employing a dissenter, but people can’t pick and choose as they used to, and she is a marvellous worker – never stops for a moment and gets through about twice as much as anyone they have ever had. Mrs. Mayhew says she is more than worth the extra sixpence an hour she asks.’

With this and other helpful information at her disposal, Miss Silver considered that an early hour in the afternoon would be the most suitable time for a call.

The appearance of the small house in Pegler’s Row certainly bore out the character ascribed to the younger Mrs. Harbord. The front door step was whitened, the four windows, two up and two down, looked as if they had just been cleaned, and spotless curtains screened the rooms behind them from the public eye. The small brass door-knocker shone. Miss Silver used it. After an interval she heard a slow, dragging step in the passage behind the door. It opened a very little way and a tall, stooping woman came into view – at first no more of her than a poking head and a hand, but after a moment the whole bent figure in a decent black dress with a grey shawl caught about the shoulders. At the sight of Miss Silver she stepped back and said in a hollow voice,

‘If it’s for my daughter-in-law, she won’t be in till five.’

Miss Silver smiled pleasantly.

‘Oh, no, Mrs. Harbord, my visit is to yourself. But you should not be standing at the door. May I come in?’

The days are long when you are alone during most of the dragging hours. Mrs. Harbord no longer felt well enough to engage in the active household tasks with which she had been used to fill her days. By the time she had dressed herself and made shift to do her room she felt fit for nothing but to drop into a chair and mind the kitchen fire. On a good day she would get the children’s di