“As a matter of fact, there was one, which quite slipped my mind with the more important news,” she answered offhandedly. She risked a close scrutiny of deVigne, but could read nothing except interest on his face.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I heard a noise, and took a look out. I could only see one man.”
“What was he doing?” Lady Jane asked.
“Just snooping around, I believe. He didn’t try to come in, at least,” Delsie answered, feeling very warm at the memory of what had really happened.
“Ha. Maybe he left you another present. Have you taken a look around outside today?”
“No! I should have done so!”
“It’s a nasty, miserable day,” Jane consoled her. “No one else will have been there before you. You can have a look early tomorrow.”
“I shall, certainly.”
Sir Harold, who had been listening to all the talk, suddenly pushed himself to speech. “Andrew was up to some monkeyshines,” he said, impatiently eyeing a book that lay on the table beside him. “Not a doubt of it. Where else would he have got ahold of twenty-five hundred guineas? A small fortune. And kept it around the house in cash too, instead of putting it in the bank like a Christian, or into the funds. A pity the fellow was ever let into the family.”
“Good gracious!” Lady Jane shrieked, and turned pale around the edges of her rouge. “He wouldn’t have invented a counterfeiting machine, would he? The man has turned coiner on us.”
“The ones I saw were the real thing,” deVigne assured her.
“Was certainly up to something crooked,” Sir Harold insisted mulishly. “Running a gambling hell right under our very noses, likely as not.”
“He wasn’t well enough for that,” deVigne explained. “And in any case, the amount of traffic entailed would not have escaped our notice these last three years.”
“If it were that, he’d have lost his shirt,” Jane said more bluntly. “Lost every penny he played on the market, and always lost at cards too, as far as I can remember. Never backed a winning horse in his life. Whatever it was, I wish we knew. Twenty-five hundred guineas. If it weren’t actually illegal, we might continue with it. Well, Delsie, you are twenty-five hundred guineas to the good. What do you mean to do with the money?”
“Save it and make restitution when the case comes to court. I hope the judge will deal leniently with me if I can return most of the money.”
Lady Jane sat mute at such innocent honesty as this. Sir Harold nodded his head in approval. “An excellent notion,” he agreed. Then he gave in to temptation and picked up the book.
“I trust our cousin is funning,” deVigne stated. “As I trust you were also joking about setting up a gig.”
“I am not joking about either one.”
“There is no way they can take Delsie to court, is there, Max?” Jane asked.
“Of course not, and there is no way Mrs. Grayshott is setting herself up a gig either.”
“I believe I can manage it on my new salary,” she countered.
“With the sale of Andrew’s cattle and stable equipment, you can do better than a gig.”
“A carriage and team would be very expensive. The horses must be fed, you know, and two horses eating their heads off day after day will soon eat up my two hundred and fifty pounds. Then too, it requires a driver, whereas I think I could handle a gig myself, with a little practice.”
“Why not make it a dog cart and have done with it?” deVigne asked angrily.
“My dear, I cannot think you would wish to appear in the village in a gig,” Jane said, frowning. “If your own money is insufficient for a carriage, and nothing can be spared from Bobbie’s portion, you would do better to just use my carriage or Max’s when you wish to go out, I should be very happy to share mine, and you, Max, have several. One would always be free.”
“It is understandable that Mrs. Grayshott wants to set up her own, especially when mine are in the habit of arriving late to deliver her, but I should dislike excessively to see her set up a gig, like a-”
“Schoolmistress?” she asked with a pugnacious light in her eye.
“That was not what I meant to say.”
“That’s good, for I don’t know of any schoolmistress fortunate enough to set herself up with a gig, and it is plenty good enough to suit me.”
“But it is not, my dear,” Jane contradicted baldly. “It is only useful on a fine day for a short jaunt. Why, even if you had your own gig, it would have done you no good today, in the rain. You need a proper covered carriage. It rains at least three times a week, and is too cold half the year to go anywhere in an open gig, as well as looking so very shabby. Really, I think it a waste of money.”
“The sale of Andrew’s effects will allow you to set yourself up a creditable carriage and team, and I shall be happy to undertake fodder for the team,” deVigne said.
“There is a fairly good crop of hay in my own yard,” Delsie said, as a jesting way of indicating her acquiescence in the matter, without actually saying so.
This was not good enough for Jane, who wished to have it settled. “Does this mean you have decided against the gig?” she asked.
“I shall reconsider it,” she allowed. The objections raised had weighed heavily against the gig. Her wishes too were not averse to procuring a more dashing and prestigious means of conveyance.
“It would look so very odd to see you in a gig,” Jane continued. “Bobbie too. For a child of the deVigne family to be transported in such a manner, like the Bristcombes.”
“If it is not good enough for a deVigne, then I suppose I must not get it,” Delsie said, becoming annoyed. “As far as that goes, Roberta bears the same name as myself, and I would not be ashamed to be seen in a gig.”
“It is nothing to be ashamed of,” deVigne allowed.
“Louise once spent a summer jogging along the roads in a whiskey, and appeared to derive considerable pleasure from it too, but as Jane pointed out, it would be useless three quarters of the time, and it seems a shame to spend good money on a toy.”
After this interlude, the afternoon passed quietly and agreeably. Roberta returned to the family circle, replacing Sir Harold, who slipped away to his library, without being missed in the least. Those remaining gathered around the grate to talk and play a few games of jackstraws to amuse the child (and Lady Jane, who was an adept at this diversion). Neither did she consider a game of all fours beneath her dignity. With jackstraws, cards, and magazines, a quiet afternoon was enjoyed. Dinner was served earlier than usual because of Roberta’s presence. She was allowed to eat with the adults for a treat. Similarly, the evening broke up early, at eight o’clock.
As they were driven home by deVigne, he said, “It is a little early to call it a night yet. May I prevail on your charity to invite me in for an hour, cousin? Harold tells me you are a fair hand at chess. If my conversation fails to hold your interest, I hope my skill at the game may be a compensation.”
She had not been looking forward to a long night alone, and was pleased at the question. Her talks with deVigne more usually occurred in the midst of the family. She was happy at the prospect of becoming more intimately acquainted with him. “An excellent idea, but even poor conversation sounds more appealing to me than good chess.”
“Thank you. I feel my conversation to be no worse than poor.”
“I didn’t mean that!”
“Can I conversate with you too?” Bobbie asked.
“No, ignoramus, you can study your grammar,” her uncle replied blandly. “With two teachers, one hopes for some better progress than you are showing.”
“How can I progress if you don’t let me talk?” she asked artfully.