The Catherine Wheel

Amusing to see who comes first, don’t you think? Might be the one that’s hardest up-but then sometimes that sort’s proud. Poverty, greed, or maybe just plain punctuality-any one of the three might bring ’em here on the dot. Now you get those chairs set out so that I can look and listen, and you ask ’ em what I told you to ask ’em, and tell ’ em what I told you to tell ’em. And devil take the hindmost!”

CHAPTER 3

A young clerk opened the door and a

“Miss Taverner-”

Mildred Taverner took a poking look at the room with its nine empty chairs and came in rather after the ma

“Oh, dear-I didn’t know I was going to be the first. Do you mean to say nobody else has come? I had no idea-I mean I expected my brother-he telephoned and said to be here punctually at the half hour. Nothing a

As she took one of the nine chairs she dropped her handbag, from which there immediately cascaded a bunch of keys, a pocket comb, a pair of nail-scissors, a bottle of aspirin tablets, three pencils, a couple of crumpled bills, and a rather dingy handkerchief.

She said, “Oh dear!” and crammed everything back in an agitated way and without any attempt at arrangement, so that the bag bulged and at first refused to shut.

John Taylor contemplated the performance in an interested ma

Having taken all this in, he smiled pleasantly and said,

“Well now, Miss Taverner, this is excellent. We can make a good start before the others arrive.” He took up the family tree, upon which there appeared the names of Jeremiah Taverner’s eight children and their descendants, and consulted it. “Mr. Jacob Taverner wishes me to run over a few points with each of you. You are descended from-”

“Oh, yes, my grandfather was Matthew-the second one. The eldest was Jeremiah, after his father.” She bridled a little, caught his eye, and immediately looked away. “Oh dear, yes-I know all about the family tree. Old Jeremiah had eight children and he died in eighty-eight-Jeremiah, Matthew, Mark, Mary, Luke, Joa

The door opened and Geoffrey Taverner came into the room.

Looking through the chink which he had thoughtfully provided, Jacob Taverner inspected his cousin Geoffrey. Like his sister, and yet not so like after all. They were both fair, thin, and forty, but the sister looked like a bit of chewed string, whereas the brother would pass for a goodlooking man. He was a few years the younger. Where she drooped, he was well set-up and well tailored. As he came up to the desk, his expression changed from one of formal but courteous greeting for John Taylor to a definite flicker of a

She broke at once into explanation and apology.

“I quite thought you would be here. I had no idea of coming in by myself-I was really quite upset when I found I was the first. Of course, as Mr. Taylor kindly said, someone has to be-but I wouldn’t have gone in, only I was delayed just as I was starting, so I thought I was late. My watch-”

Geoffrey Taverner said in a repressive tone,

“Your watch is always wrong.”

He took a chair and addressed Mr. Taylor.

“I don’t quite know why we have been asked to come here. I answered an advertisement asking the descendants of Jeremiah Taverner who died in eighteen-eighty-eight to communicate with a certain box number, and after a brief interchange of letters my sister and I were invited to come here this afternoon. My first letter went, as I say, to a box number. The reply which I received had no signature, and I must say at once that I should like to know with whom I am dealing.”

“Certainly, Mr. Taverner. You are dealing with me.”

“And you represent?”

“Mr. Jacob Taverner, who is the son of Jeremiah Taverner’s eldest son, Jeremiah.”

Geoffrey appeared to consider this. After a moment he said,

“Very well-I’m here. What about it?”

John Taylor balanced a pencil.

“My client informs me that you have satisfied him as to your identity.”

“He has had copies of our birth certificates and of my parents’ marriage certificate-yes.”

“I am instructed to ask for a few further particulars. You are, I understand, the grandson of Matthew Taverner, Jeremiah’s second son.”

“That is so.”

“Do you remember him?”

“I have already been asked that. I said I did. I was about twelve when he died. My sister was older.”

“I remember him very well,” said Mildred Taverner. “He had a very bad temper before he had his stroke, but he was much nicer afterwards. He used to tell us stories about the old i

The young clerk opened the door again, began to murmur inaudibly, and was swept aside. There came in a bright presence and a faint delicious waft of expensive French scent. Something very tall, very elegant, very feminine advanced with a vague but radiant smile. Dark blue eyes with incredible lashes came to rest upon John Taylor. A deep musical voice said,

“I’ll have to introduce myself-Lady Marian Thorpe-E