Chinese -- England -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
Miss Rayner, during her mourning, read the evidence given at the
inquest, and wondered why she had not been called as a witness, if only
to prove that she had given the scarf to Rupert. She thought it
extraordinary that Tung-yu should have used the tie to strangle Miss
Wharf, and could not think how it came into his possession. After some
thought she concluded, that he had taken the scarf from Rupert's pocket,
so as to implicate him in the crime, and had bribed Dalham the
attendant, who certainly was not above being bribed, to say nothing
about the matter. If this were the case, Dalham would probably blackmail
Tung-yu for the rest of his life, as he was just the kind of rascal to
make money in shady ways. Then it occurred to Olivia that as Tung-yu had
sailed for China, presumably in the yacht, Dalham would not be able to
make a milch cow of him. However, whether Tung-yu was guilty or not, she
cared little. Rupert was safe, in spite of the evidence of the scarf,
and so long as he escaped being arrested, the girl felt perfectly happy.
After the funeral Olivia came downstairs again, and found Miss Pewsey
looking after things as usual. The little old maid was most polite, and
it seemed as though she was now anxious to make much of Olivia, thinking
she would inherit the money. Miss Pewsey had not a shilling to bless
herself with, and for years had lived on the bounty of Miss Wharf. Now
that Olivia was to be the mistress of Ivy Lodge, Miss Pewsey appeared
desirous of making herself pleasant, so that she might remain. Olivia
saw through her newly born politeness, and, although she disliked the
woman, was not averse to her remaining for a time at least.
"I should be glad for you to remain altogether," explained Olivia when
matters came to be discussed, "but of course now that my aunt is gone I
may marry Mr. Ainsleigh."
"Oh he'll marry you quick enough for your money," snapped Miss Pewsey,
"not but what he's a handsome young fellow, but--"
"Don't run down Rupert," interrupted Olivia flushing, "I love him. You
have never been just to him."
Miss Pewsey coughed. "I don't think he is a very good young man."
"I hate good young men," said Olivia. "Mr. Chris Walker is one of those
who never cost his mother a single pang. Why my aunt should wish me to
marry such a milksop, I can't understand."
"Well then, why not marry Clarence?" asked the old maid, "he is not a
milksop and has cost his mother--poor soul many a pang. And he loves you
dearly, Olivia. I should think you would be able to live very nicely on
five hundred a year and with this house rent free."
"If I come into possession of the property that is."
"Oh, I am sure you will," said Miss Pewsey effusively. "To whom should
dear Sophia leave the money, if not to you, her nearest relative."
"She might have left it to you, for she loved you, while she only
tolerated me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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