A gentleman of fortune

the book was. For, I thought when she came in that she was not looking quite herself – not at all well. And the book, you must understand, was not quite…’ She leant confidingly across the table again and sunk her voice. ‘I just looked into the thing myself… Just looked, you understand. I did not read far, for I saw straight away that it was not quite proper. It was written almost thirty years ago and was rather…’ she leant closer and her lips formed the dreadful word ‘revolutionary,’ almost in silence. ‘I think,’ she finished in a more natural tone, ‘that the dear lady was a little distracted – and in a hurry too perhaps, for it was rather late in the afternoon. I am sure, myself, that she picked up the book quite inadvertently.’

Aloud Dido admitted that that was entirely possible. But, in private, she could not countenance it at all. There had been nothing inadvertent about the tearing up and throwing away of the pieces!

‘And now, Miss Kent,’ said Miss Merryweather, ‘what kind of literature can we furnish you with today?’

‘Oh!’ Dido hesitated, remembered that window upon the soul, and quietly put aside Moss Cliff Abbey. ‘I was wondering,’ she said, ‘whether you might have a volume of Doctor Fordyce’s sermons.’

Chapter Nine

A revolutionary book! Why should little Miss Prentice concern herself with a revolutionary book? What possible difference could it make to her whether the volume rested quietly upon Miss Merryweather’s shelves or sunk down into the mud of the Thames? This was so very great a puzzle that one could not possibly rest until an answer was found. It was entirely against human nature to be uncurious when so provoked! And, besides, Miss Prentice had taken the book late in the afternoon on the day before yesterday – when she was distracted and unwell – in short, immediately after she had heard of Mrs Midgely’s visit to Knaresborough House! And, since that must argue for the destruction of the book bearing some relation to poor Mr Lansdale’s extremely dangerous situation, it was a moral duty to solve the mystery, was it not?

All this ran so smoothly and rapidly through Dido’s head as she walked down the steps from the library, that, by the time she gained the street, curiosity and virtue were very comfortably reconciled.

She stepped aside to avoid a pony carriage whose approach she had not noticed in her distraction, and stood a moment on the edge of the road, with people jostling past her and dusty heat breathing up from the pavement.

Now that Mr Vane had reported his misgivings to the magistrate everything was changed, she thought. Now the damage was done, the processes of justice had been set in motion and it would not suffice only to silence Mrs Midgely. Now it was absolutely essential to find out the whole truth.

And first she must find out what it was that connected Mrs Midgely, Mr Lansdale, Miss Prentice – and an improper book.

‘Dido! I declare, there is the strangest look upon your face! Whatever are you thinking about?’

Flora was hurrying down from the linen draper’s shop looking very concerned indeed.

‘I am thinking about Miss Prentice.’

‘Indeed? But I am sure I do not understand why you should be so concerned about her you would walk under the wheels of a chariot!’

‘Do you not? Well, I shall tell you,’ said Dido, ‘but first of all I must call upon the bookseller.’

Dido took her cousin’s arm and guided her across the street to the dark little shop of Lister and Son, Stationers and Booksellers, and would not say another word upon the matter until she had placed, with a rather shocked Mr Lister, an order for a copy of A Treatise upon the Rights of Citizens.

‘Now,’ she said as they emerged from the low shop door. ‘Do not look so very worried, Flora. I am in no danger of becoming a Jacobin! I only wish to know what it is that Miss Prentice has been reading.’

‘Miss Prentice has been reading a treatise about citizens?’ 

‘It would seem she has.’ Dido linked arms again and, as they threaded their way along the busy street, she told Flora all about the book and the river and Miss Merryweather’s system of detecting souls – though she kept to herself the information which the lady in black had supplied.

Flora was all amazement. ‘I would not have thought,’ she said, wrinkling her nose, ‘that two such women as Mrs Midgely and Miss Prentice could afford so much to puzzle over. I have known them for ever and I have always found them so very…ordinary.’

‘And how long is “for ever” in this case?’

‘Let me see…’ Flora considered. They had left the shops behind them now and were come to the inn where the London coach was just drawing up with all its usual bustle. There was a green here and three broadly spreading horse-chestnuts, and they were both very glad to rest for a moment in the shade of these trees while all the busyness of Richmond flowed about them.

‘I believe I have known Mrs Midgely for more than three years,’ said Flora thoughtfully, ‘but I have not known Miss Prentice so long. She came to Richmond this January last, you know; but James and I were not down from town until March.’

‘I see.’ Dido was disappointed to find that, in this case, Flora’s eternity was so short, for she was anxious to learn as much as she might about the two ladies. ‘Do you know,’ she asked, ‘how long Miss Prentice and Mrs Midgely have been acquainted with one another?’

‘Oh yes. A great while. They were girls together you know – somewhere in Northamptonshire, I believe.’

‘Hmm, I see.’ Dido considered – the long acquaintance provided opportunity for a great many secrets between them… And yet they were so ill-matched one could not but wonder at their choosing to live under the same roof. ‘Why do you suppose Mrs M decided to take her friend as a boarder?’ she asked. ‘Do you suppose that she has found herself a little short of money since the death of her husband?’

‘No, I do not suppose any such thing!’ cried Flora. ‘I don’t doubt Mrs Midgely has money enough – and to spare – but the dreadful woman takes a great deal more pleasure in saving money than she ever does in spending it, you know.’

‘And so you believe it was her love of economy which made her let her back parlour?’

‘I do indeed! Why I remember just how it was last autumn when she made up her mind to it. “That back room is wasted,” she said again and again, “quite wasted. And it might be let very nicely if only all the old books and papers of the colonel’s were cleared out of it. And there is a bedroom too,” she said, “beyond the two that are needed for me and Mary. And I cannot abide waste!” I declare, it was all about avoiding waste!’

‘I see. And do you suppose,’ continued Dido thoughtfully as they left the inn and started to walk slowly up the hill, ‘do you suppose that this sending out of Miss Bevan to be a governess is also a matter of economy?’

‘Ah! Now that is a very strange business indeed. I cannot make it out at all.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, it has all come about so very suddenly. There was not a single word spoken about it until last November, you know. Not a word. But suddenly it was all, “she must make her own way in the world”. And Mrs Midgely was looking out for a place for her. Everyone was surprised by it – and I am sure the dear colonel himself would never have  countenanced such a measure. It is quite shocking that she should go against her husband’s wishes – and so soon after his death too!’

‘Ah!’ said Dido, ‘Miss Bevan, I presume, is a relation of the colonel – not of his wife?’

‘Yes. At least she is a connection of the colonel’s. No relation I think. Her father was an officer in his regiment and the colonel thought particularly well of the young man – there is some story about a camp fever – the colonel did not believe he would have survived without the attentions of Lieutenant Bevan. Something of that sort, you know. But I do not remember the details.’

‘And so, when the little girl was orphaned, the colonel undertook her care? How very kind!’

‘He was the kindest, most generous man in the world! And as unlike his wife as you can possibly imagine!’