Georgina said, “Thank you, Johnny.” Then, after a little pause, “What are you going to do now? I mean, about Mirrie. Are you engaged?”
“Well, yes, we are. Do you think we ought to give it out?”
“I don’t know. She is very young, Johnny.”
He said,
“Someone has got to look after her. She can’t go back to that uncle and aunt.”
“They won’t want her if there’s no money. You had better wait and let me talk to Mr. Maudsley.”
For the first time he turned round to face her.
“What are you going to say to him?”
Georgina laughed. She put out her hand again, and this time he took it. She said,
“Wait and see.”
The serious Johnny was gone. His eyes laughed back at her.
“You couldn’t be going to give us a nice wedding present, could you, darling?”
Georgina said, “I might.”
Chapter XXIX
LATER ON that evening Miss Silver had a conversation with Detective Inspector Frank Abbott. It took place, as their former interviews had done, in the study, but in what appeared to be a rather less formal atmosphere. The first sense of shock and strain had lifted a little. Miss Silver’s knitting-bag lay open on a corner of Jonathan Field’s writing-table, the bright peonies and larkspur of the chintz contrasting in a most pleasing manner with a lining of primrose silk. Her hands were occupied with a pair of pale blue knitting-needles from which there depended a cloudlike pattern in a very fine white wool. A soft towel across her knees protected what was destined to be a baby shawl from contact with the stuff of her skirt. There were always babies who needed shawls, and those knitted by Miss Silver were in continual demand. She looked across the needles at Frank Abbott and said,
“I really feel that some enquiry into Mr. Sid Turner’s activities might prove rewarding.”
He laughed.
“I wasn’t drawn to him myself, but he probably goes with a bang in Pigeon Hill.”
“He is certainly very well pleased with himself. What is more important is that Mirrie Field is afraid of him.”
“And what makes you think that?”
“I was watching her when he came over to speak to her in the churchyard. I was not near enough to hear what was said, but his manner was very bold and assured, and Mirrie took a step away from him and towards Mr. Fabian. Sid Turner immediately displayed a marked offence and Mirrie looked very much frightened.”
“I should have expected her to enjoy playing off one of them against the other-but, as you are no doubt about to say, perhaps not at her uncle’s funeral.”
Miss Silver repeated what she had already said.
“She was very much frightened.”
“Well, he struck me as the type that wouldn’t mind making quite a nasty scene. But there is more to it than that, I suppose. I take it you didn’t come in here after me to discuss Mirrie Field’s love-life. I have no doubt she would have flirted with Sid if he was the best she could do at Pigeon Hill, but you can’t really be surprised if she prefers Johnny Fabian at Field End. Sid would naturally feel he was being given the dirty end of the stick. He is probably quite a lad in his own circles, and I expect Mirrie got the wind up as you say.”
Miss Silver shook her head.
“I do not think the situation is quite as simple as that. Mirrie has had a very dull life with the uncle and aunt who brought her up. They were not only badly off, but extremely strict. She had no pocket-money and she was allowed no amusements. She was not even allowed to go to the cinema, and would in any case have had no money to pay for a ticket. But I discovered that she had seen most of the current films. She told Georgina that Uncle Albert and Aunt Grace did not approve of Sid Turner, and that she was not allowed to go out with him, but I am quite sure that she contrived to do so. I think she is very good at contriving. She has an artless manner which is a considerable asset. Up to a certain point I believe it to be natural, but she has learned to use it with considerable skill.” He threw up a hand.
“My dear ma’am-what a dissection!”
Miss Silver continued to knit.
“You have frequently told me that I understand girls. I should have wasted my time in the schoolroom if I had not acquired some appreciation of the different types and the probable pattern of their behaviour. Mirrie’s type is not an uncommon one. Her faults have been accentuated by severity and coldness in her surroundings. She has a natural craving for comfort, pleasure, and affection. And she has learned to play a part. But as Lord Tennyson so truly says, speaking of one who veils ‘his want in forms for fashion’s sake,’ nature will at seasons break through-‘For who can always act? ’ ”
“My dear ma’am, you surpass yourself!”
Her glance reproved him. She said,
“I am endeavouring to convince you that Mirrie Field was not only shocked out of playing a part by the unexpected appearance of Sid Turner, but that she had, and has, some reason to be deeply afraid of him.”
“Go on.”
She paused to draw three or four strands of wool from the ball in her knitting-bag. After which she said gravely,
“I believe Georgina told you that she had received an anonymous letter accusing her of being jealous of Mirrie and of trying to humiliate her. I think some of the material must have been furnished by Mirrie herself, though I do not suppose she knew the use to which it would be put to by Sid Turner.”
“You think the letter came from him?”
“I think there is a strong probability that it did. I had a conversation with Sid Turner in the dining-room after we had all returned from the funeral. The room was crowded, refreshments were being served, and as most of the people present were either relatives or old family friends, he was left in a somewhat isolated position. When I approached him he enquired in an extremely mannerless way whether I was the governess. My answer being that it was some years since I had retired from the scholastic profession, he obviously concluded that I had occupied the position of governess to Georgina Grey, and it occurred to him that he might extract information from me with regard to the disposition of Mr. Field’s property. I may say that the whole tone of his conversation reflected a coarse and vulgar mind.”
“And you did not blast him?”
“My dear Frank!”
“He actually survived?”
Miss Silver did not permit herself to smile, but the line of her lips relaxed.
“I refrained from reproof.”
“The thunderbolt was withheld!”
“I wished to hear what he would say.”
“And what did he say?”
“He wanted to know whether the house was left to Mirrie. He assumed that it was, and was very much put out when I said I believed that it had been left to Miss Georgina Grey. I encouraged him to go on talking but gave him no more information. During the whole time that we were conversing it was quite plain that he regarded me as a person who need not be considered in any way, and with whom it was quite unnecessary to be on his guard. I allowed myself to appear inaccurate and easily confused in matters of detail. On more than one occasion he intervened to correct me.”