Mystery at the Rectory. Dorothy Fielding

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СКАЧАТЬ in a tone of some warmth. "She's in your charge. An orphan girl—"

      "My dear Jack—" Grace only called him that when she was very annoyed, "you know as well as I do that Olive has all along done what she liked—apart from her set duties I mean, and whom she saw, or when she saw them, are things no one knows but herself."

      "Then what makes you persist in thinking—" began the rector.

      "I saw her kissing Byrd about a fortnight ago. Lost to the world, my dear."

      "A good-bye perhaps," the rector said shortly.

      "Oh, probably," Grace agreed, "Olive is very thorough. She would never try to play a double game. But that's what I meant by wondering if Anthony might not have shot himself. He was spoilt, passionate, and really immensely in love. And if she told him that after all she loved Byrd—and he knew he had lost her—she's a most fascinating person, John."

      "Really?" he asked dryly.

      "Oh, quite inexplicably so. You notice her absence, you notice her all the time. I don't know what she's going to do now—"

      "I hope not marry Byrd," the rector said gravely. "Putting aside what you told me about her, you must do your best to prevent that. Byrd has no standards, no health, no morals, no desire to work—nothing that would mean happiness if he had to provide for two. His temper is proverbial—it's won him the nickname, of Blackbird. As for the rest, he told me that he had thirty shillings a week to live on and not a hope of a penny more. He bought that cottage he has called The Hut with money he won on a bet. He can just manage to live on his lordly income—somehow. But a wife?"

      "Funny," Grace now said, "I was just thinking that no one seems to care much for Anthony's death, and yet a month ago one would have said that every one would be awfully grieved. I except that artist woman—she is all in."

      "And you can except me, and yourself too, and Gilbert, and Lady Revell, and many many other people, Grace," the rector said firmly. "But as a matter of fact, I don't think that most of us can realise yet that Anthony is gone. That we shall never see his handsome face again—nor hear his eager voice—" and real emotion made the rector stop for a moment, before going on to his study.

      On the Monday, Doris woke with a vague feeling that some sound in her room had wakened her. She sat up and looked at the clock beside her bed. It was only a little past five, when as a rule she was in her soundest sleep. Could the cat have got in? Bending lithely over her bed, she called it. Nothing stirred. Then she saw that one of her slippers was lying on its side and had evidently been stepped on. Not by Doris. She had put them as usual side by side ready to thrust her feet into. That was what had wakened her. She lay back and tried to think out what it meant. She had nothing in her room worth stealing. Nothing of any interest to any one. Yet some one had stepped on her slipper, which meant that they must have been very near her bed, been bending over it, or over her...But she was very sleepy and, turning over, she fell asleep again on the instant.

      After breakfast, Olive stepped into the morning-room. She wanted to know whether Doris could use her services as a secretary "or anything of that sort." From things Doris had said, Olive thought that there might be a great deal to do just now, before her husband got back home...

      Doris was puzzled. It seemed to her an odd request. What about Grace? she asked, for since Olive's engagement the three women called each other by their Christian names.

      "I want to get work as a secretary rather than a companion," Olive said, "and I can't do that without having a reference for my work. If I could stay with you for a while—it would be a help—"

      Doris fuzzled the cat's ear and thought hard. Something lay behind this request, or rather this plan. What? Curiosity was always strong in Doris.

      "But you have to know shorthand to be a secretary," she said finally.

      "I'm fairly good at it," Olive replied, "I've been having lessons in it. I've taken down the rector's last sermons quite easily. He speaks fairly slowly of course, but I shall improve, I know."

      Doris laughed. "So that's why you have taken to coming to church, is it?" she said easily. "I wondered at it when I heard you had been there. Grace and I have to go, of course, in common decency whenever the rector himself preaches, but I wondered—" She had thought that Olive had merely gone to show that she knew what would be expected of her after her marriage.

      So, Olive had only gone to practise her shorthand. But surely, as Revell's wife, Olive would not have needed shorthand. Doris's eyes spoke for her. Olive read them correctly.

      "I began to learn shorthand months ago. And I always hate to lose anything I have learnt how to do, don't you?"

      Doris agreed that she did. But it was odd...just as it was odd being wakened this morning by some one tripping over her slipper. Doris was puzzled by Olive. She wondered what she was up to.

      "Wouldn't you rather go quite away for a while," she asked in a kindly voice.

      Olive shook a decided head. "It would make it worse. I would very much like to stay on here until I can make up my mind what to do next."

      "If you've really made up your mind to leave Grace, and if she doesn't grudge me you," Doris said in her pretty and flattering way, "I shall be only too glad to have your help," and on that Olive went on up to her own room. Doris looked in on Grace, and told her of what had just been arranged.

      "That is, if you don't mind?" she wound up.

      "Now perhaps you'll believe me that she's in love with Byrd?" Grace said, laying down a letter she was reading.

      "I confess I'm beginning to think you may be right—about whom it was she really cared for. Though, mind you, all I was certain of was that Anthony was in love with her. I never pretended to be sure about her feelings."

      Grace let this pass. She looked very uncertain about something.

      "She wants to earn a good reference for her work," Doris said after a little pause. "Rather pathetic considering how near she was to being a wealthy woman."

      "I understand Lady Revell and Gilbert intend to settle The Causeway on her for life, and a sufficient income to keep it up," Grace said.

      "Yes. And Violet-May says that Mrs. Green is doing her best to put a spoke in that wheel. She wants to buy The Causeway herself it seems."

      Doris did not pay any attention to any speeches of Lady Witson's. She was notoriously inaccurate, to put it politely, though there were those who called her plainly an awful liar.

      "You have no objection to my taking on Olive?" she asked, "frankly she would be a tremendous help just now. It would save my having to find a secretary who knows my ways, and is as clever as Olive is."

      "She's very clever," Grace said hesitatingly, "very capable. You never have to tell her anything twice. And her loss makes one terribly sorry for her. I mean merely her loss of position and wealth. I really don't know what to say, Doris. Try her by all means—but—I'm not sure whether I ought not—" she stopped uncertainly. "You might ask John—" she suggested.

      Doris was glancing at some letters. She had only heard the first words. She looked up.

      "Well, I'll try Olive, partly because I want to see what's her object in staying on in the house. Oh, I know what she says. But what's behind her words?"

      "To СКАЧАТЬ