"I b'ain't responsible vor that. First come, first served; and other volks take at their peril, I ses."

"It's my duty to tell Miss Blisland you took the things. Where have you hidden 'em?"

"Inside the peatstack. If you'm going to tell Kezia, I shall shift the things into town and sell 'em."

"That's your affair," replied the constable. "Seems you haven't exactly committed a robbery, as you have a sort o' right to the things; and you haven't committed a trespa.s.s, as you can go into the house when you want to. So I can't charge you with anything. But I reckon it won't be long before you have the lawyers after you; and then the Lord ha' mercy on your pocket, Robert Mudge."

Before the constable could reach Windward House to report how easily he solved a problem, his wife ran to meet him with cheering information concerning a great fire upon the outskirts of the parish; and, as conflagrations are things no policeman can resist, he mounted his bicycle and scorched towards an isolated farmhouse which was doomed to destruction; as its bankrupt owner had taken the precaution to store plenty of dry f.a.ggots, well sprinkled with petroleum, within the well-insured premises. The farmer was sitting upon an upturned pail, which smelt of anything but water, bemoaning his fate, and informing the neighbours that spontaneous combustion would happen sometimes no matter what you did to prevent it, when the constable arrived, sniffing greedily at the clue-laden atmosphere. The farmer replied that the oil barrel had leaked terribly, and there was no preventing that either. The policeman investigated, went on his way to report, and returned with papers in his pocket; and, while teaching the farmer a few cheerless facts concerning the legal meaning of arson, such a trifling affair as the Highfield grabbing pa.s.sed naturally and conveniently from his mind.

Percy introduced himself to his Aunt, kissed her upon both checks according to a family tradition; the bride elect followed his example; and they all talked of Tasmania, tomatoes, tickets, and travelling, with a few remarks upon marriage licences, until Miss Yard rolled off the sofa for sheer joy of motion.

"Nellie!" she called. "Pack my things at once! Percy and Emmie have got a licence to go to Tasmania, and tickets to get married, and I won't stay here any longer."

"But this is your home, Aunt," mentioned Percy.

"And there are not many places like that, you know," Miss Lee added.

"I used to have a much better home than this. We had tea parties, and mothers' meetings, and all sorts of nice things. I'm going to forget the past and begin all over again."

"Miss Sophy is quite serious," Nellie explained, when Percy approached her on the subject. "It's very seldom she keeps an idea in her head, but, when she does, it governs her completely. Ever since she was stung by the wasp she has been worrying to get away."

"How about taking her back to Drivelford?" suggested Percy.

"That would do nicely. But you must see to it, else Mr. Drake will; and there will be more trouble between him and Hunter."

"George has gone for good," said Percy sternly.

"He told me all he had to do was to go away; there was nothing said in the agreement about the time he was to be away. Miss Sophy has written already inviting him back."

"If he insists upon returning here to live--" began Percy.

"You will be at the other end of the world, and Hunter won't know anything about it," she concluded.

"George is a great scoundrel," said Percy. "I have only another two weeks in England; but I suppose I must go to Drivelford and find a house."

Miss Yard was delighted when Nellie informed her that the golden age of tea and talk was about to be restored; and she blessed Percy with such tenderness that her nephew felt compelled to make her a most liberal offer.

"You know, Aunt, the furniture in this house belongs to me. It was left to George, and I bought it from him for two hundred pounds. Don't you think the best plan would be for you to buy it from me for--shall we say--one hundred and fifty pounds? I lose and you gain, but that's as it should be."

"What an excellent idea!" cried Miss Yard. "Nellie, bring my cheque-book."

"You cannot afford to spend so much money, especially as we have a move before us," said Nellie quietly.

"Oh, I'll take a hundred pounds," said Percy.

"Miss Sophy cannot afford that either."

"That's what she always says, but I tell her I can afford it," said Miss Yard crossly.

Percy began to feel uncomfortable, as this was the first time his golden goose had been prohibited from egg laying. He made up his mind that Nellie was developing into an offensive young person; honest no doubt, and admirably suited to control Miss Yard; but with mistaken notions as to the dignity of a nephew and trustee. He sought, therefore, a secret interview with the young lady, in order that he might caution her against any further opposition, and remind her that in all financial matters his word must be the last; and this interview was granted very willingly.

"Sit down, please," he began, when they had entered the dining room.

"If you stand, I shall too," replied Nellie, who was holding a small article wrapped in paper.

"Just as you like," said Percy. "Is that Miss Yard's pa.s.sbook?"

"No," she replied. "But if you want to see the pa.s.sbook I will fetch it.

Miss Sophy has a little over two hundred pounds at present."

"Another dividend is due next month. My aunt is quite able to pay a hundred pounds for the furniture."

"The question is," said Nellie, "to whom does the furniture belong?"

"To me, of course."

"Have you what the lawyers call a good t.i.tle?"

"I hope you are not going to be impertinent, Miss Blisland," said Percy sharply.

"I know Mrs. Drake left the furniture to Mr. George," she continued, thankful of her promise not to mention those numerous sc.r.a.ps of paper.

"And I bought the stuff from him."

"With Miss Sophy's money."

"What has that to do with you? I can borrow from my aunt, and of course she does not expect me to repay the money."

"But I expect it. I manage her affairs, and I tell you plainly this borrowing must cease. I shall not allow Miss Sophy to pay you a single penny for the furniture, because it is hers already," said Nellie, with all the coldness of a magistrate sentencing a poacher.

"The little devil! You had better keep your mouth shut, or I may be tempted to say something rude. I don't want to forget I am talking to a young woman. You have just got to do what I tell you," bl.u.s.tered Percy.

"But I decline," said Nellie sweetly.

"Then you can look out for another job. I shall tell Hunter I have dismissed you for gross impertinence. That's all I have to say. You may go now."

"Thank you," she said. "But I haven't finished yet. I want to know what is going to be done about the furniture."

"I have nothing more to say to you."

"You must tell Miss Sophy, and she will consult me. So I may as well hear your decision at once."

"I shall have a sale," replied Percy. "My aunt can buy new furniture when she gets to Drivelford. After all, it's not so very much more expensive than moving it."

"You will do nothing of the kind," said Nellie.

Again Percy was tempted to say something rude; and again he yielded.

Then an explanation flashed across his mind and he began to laugh.