After The Funeral Part 13

They turned in through the gates of Stansfield Grange,

and up a neglected drive. It had been an attractive small

property once--but had now a doleful and neglected appear ance. Maude sighed as she said:

"We had to let this go to seed during the war. Both

gardeners called up. And now we've only got one old man

--and he's not much good. Wages have gone up so terribly.

I must say it's a blessing to realise that we'll be able to spend

a little money on the place now. We're both so fond of it.

I was really afraid that we might have to sell it Not that I suggested anything of the kind to Timothy. It would have upset him--dreadfully."

They drew up before the portico of a very lovely old Georgian house which badly needed a coat of paint.

"No servants," said Maude bitterly, as she led the way in.

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"Just a couple of women who come in. We had a resident maid until a month ago-slightly hunchbacked and terribly adenoidal and in many ways not too bright, but she was there which was such a comfort--and quite good at plain cooking.

And would you believe it, she gave notice and went to a fool of a woman who keeps six Pekinese dogs {it's a larger house than this and more work) because she was ' so fond of little doggies,' she said. Dogs, indeed! Being sick and making messes all the time I've no doubt! Really, these girls are mental I So there we are, and if I have to go out any afternoon, Timothy is left quite alone in the houae and if anything should happen, how could he get help ? Though I do leave the telephone close by his chair so that if he felt faint he could dial Dr. Barton immediately."

Maude led the way into the drawing-room where tea was laid ready by the fireplace, and establishing Mr. Entwhistle there, disappeared, presumably to the back regions. She returned in a few minutes' time with a teapot and silver kettle, and proceeded to minister to Mr. Entwhistle's needs. It was a good tea with home-made cake and fresh buns. Mr. Ent-whistle murmured: "What about Timothy ?" and Maude explained briskly that she had taken Timothy his tray before she set out for the station.

"And now," said Maude, "he will have had his little nap and it will be the best time for him to see you. Do try and not let him excite himself too much."

Mr. Entwhistle a.s.sured her that he would exercise every precaution.

Studying her in the flickering firelight, he was seized by a feeling of compa.s.sion. This big, stalwart matter-of-fact woman, so healthy, so vigorous, so full of common sense, and

et so strangely, almost pitifully, vulnerable in one spot.

er love for her husband was maternal love, Mr. Entwhistle decided. Maude Abernethie had borne no child and she was a woman built for motherhood. Her invalid husband had become her child, to be shielded, guarded, watched over. And perhaps, being the stronger character of the two, she had unconsciously imposed on him a state of invalidism greater tha might otherwise have been the case.

"Poor Mrs. Tim," thought Mr. Entwhistle to himself.

"Good of you to come, Entwhistle."

Timothy raised himself up in Iris chair as he held out a hand.

He was a big man with a marked resemblance to his brother Richard. But what was strength in Richard, in Timothy was weakness. The mouth was irresolute, the chin very slightly receding, the eyes less deep-set. Lines of peevish irritability showed on his forehead.

His invalid status was emphasised by the rug across his knees and a positive pharmacopoeia of little bottles and boxes on a table at his right hand.

"I mustn't exert myself," he said warningly. "Doctor's forbidden it. Keeps telling me not to worry! Worry!

If he'd had a murder in his family he'd do a bit of worrying, I bet l It's too much for a man first Richard's death---then hearing all about his funeral and his will what a will !--and on top of that poor little Cora killed with a hatchet. Hatchet I Ugh! This country's full of gangsters nowadays--thugs---left over from the war! Going about killing defenceless women. n.o.body's got the guts to put these things down--to take a strong hand. What's the country coming to, I'd like to know ? What's the d.a.m.ned country coming to ?"

Mr. Entwhistle was familiar with this gambit. It was a question almost invariably asked sooner or later by his clients for the last twenty years and he had his routine for answering it. The non-committal words he uttered could have been cla.s.sified under the heading of soothing noises. "It all began with that d.a.m.ned Labour Government," said Timothy. "Sending the whole country to blazes. And the Government we've got now is no better. Mealy-mouthed: milk-and-water socialists I Look at the state ws're in I Can't get a decent gardener, can't get servants--poor Maude here has to work herself to a shadow messing about in the kitchen (by the way, I think a custard pudding would go well with the sole to-night, my dear--and perhaps a little clear soup first ?).

I've got to keep my strength up--Doctor Barton said so--let me see, where was I ? Oh yes, Cora. It's a shock, I can tell you, to a man, when he hears his sister--his own sister--has been murdered I Why, I had palpitations for twenty minutes I You'll have to attend to everything for me, Entwhistle. I can't go to the inquest or be bothered by business of any kind connected with Cora's estate. I want to forget the whole thing. What happens, by the way, to Cora's share of Richard's money ? Comes to me, I suppose ?"

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Murmuring something about clearing away tea, Maude

left the room.

Timothy lay hack in his chair and said: "Good thing to get rid of the women. Now we can talk

business without any silly interruptions."

"The sum left in trust for Cora," said Mr. Entwhistle,

"goes equally to you and the nieces and 'iel)hew."

"But look here," Timothy's cheeks a.s.sum'ed a purplish hue

of indignation. "Surely I'm her next of kin ? Only surviving

brother."

Mr. Entwhistle explained with some care the exact provi sions of Richard Abernethie's will, reminding Timothy gently

that he had had a copy sent him.

"Don't expect me to understand all that legal jargon, do

you ?" said Timothy ungratefully. "You lawyers I Matter

of fact, I couldn't believe it when Maude Came home and told me the gist of it. Thought she'd got it Wrong. Women are

never clear headed. Best woman in the world, Maude--but

women don't understand finance. I dcn't believe Mande

even realises that if Richard hadn't died when he did, we

might have had to clear out of here. Fact I"

"Surely if you had applied to Richard------"

,T, imot,h,y gave a short bark of harsh laughter.

' That s not my style. Our father left us all a perfectly

reasonable share of his money--that is, if we didn't want to

go into the family concern. I didn't. I've a soul above

corn-plasters, Entwhistle I Richard took my att.i.tude a bit

hard. Well, what with taxes, depreciation of income, one thing

and another--it hasn't been easy to keep things going. I've had to realise a good deal of capital. Best thing to do these

days. I did hint once to Richard that this place was getting

a bit hard to run. He took the att.i.tude that we'd be much

better off in a smaller place altogether. Easier for Maude, he