Gather Ye Rosebuds Read Free Page B

this problem and soon came up with an answer. “This goes from bad to worse, Zoie. He must have been part of a gang! One of them did the robbing, and others peddled the goods.”
    “If that were the case, he should have been rich. You know he hadn’t a sou to his name when he died. One would have thought he would have squirreled away a couple of hundred pounds at least. He had no expensive habits.”
    “And I only took a nominal sum from him for board,” Mama added. “Why, from his pension alone he ought to have saved up a few hundred. I made sure his savings would at least bury him, but I had to pay for the coffin along with everything else. He must have been a secret gambler,” she decided, as she could think of nothing else to explain the mystery.
    “Perhaps he had a woman in London,” I suggested. There had been a certain Surinda Joshi in Calcutta. Barry never mentioned her in his letters, but Mama’s family used to write about her. They feared he would marry this dusky beauty.
    “Now, that is entirely possible. He was always a mouthful among the parish for his flirting ways. He could have been sending money to Surinda.”
    “It is odd he had not sold the necklace, if that was his plan. The thing was stolen five years ago, and he still had it when he died.”
    I never thought I would come to hate the sight of diamonds, but that glittering little heap on the table was enough to make my blood run cold.
    Steptoe came in and said, in his uppity way, “There does not appear to be any more stolen jewels among Mr. McShane’s belongings, madam. Shall I send the necklace back to Parham?”
    “You must not think of it, Steptoe!” Mama exclaimed.
    In our confusion, we had forgotten we had Steptoe to contend with. It seemed best to take the bull by the horns. I said, “We plan to return it secretly, Steptoe. We would appreciate it if you did not speak to the servants, nor indeed to anyone, of the necklace.”
    Steptoe remained silent a moment, scanning this for opportunities of exploiting us. He was a perfectly self-centered man. He presented a good appearance and lent a certain cachet when he answered the door, looking down on all our callers, but really he was not at all pleasant.
    “Very well, madam. Ah, and while I have your attention, might I inquire whether you have given any thought to the matter of increasing my wage?” he asked, while peering at us from under his lashes.
    Steptoe is always after an increase in his wage. He has had three while Brodagan has had one. This latest demand was nothing less than extortion, but it was not the time to chastise him.
    “How much increase will you need, Steptoe?” Mama asked fearfully.
    “Five pounds per quarter would be convenient, madam.”
    “You only asked for three last week!” I objected.
    “Yes, madam, but now I find five would be more convenient.” His eyes slid to the diamonds, then turned to Mama with a speaking look. “Thank you, madam.” He bowed and left.
    “That one will be no stranger in hell,” Mama said.
    “This is intolerable! We shall not give him another sou.”
    “The alternative is to tell Lady Weylin—and Lord Weylin—the truth, Zoie,” she pointed out.
    “I daresay we can eke out another five pounds per quarter, but if he demands one more penny, Mama, we must turn him off. Let him tell what stories he likes; no one will listen. People know we are honest.”
    “They do not know Barry was honest. There were a few rumors in town about that unfortunate bookkeeping error in India. How very disagreeable it will be, having to call at Parham tomorrow,” Mama said, gazing forlornly into her teacup. “My blood shakes to think of it, for I haven’t the heart of a mouse.”
    “We must go in the morning. Borsini will be coming in the afternoon.”
    “Gracious, as if having a thief in the family were not bad enough! I hope Weylin is not there when we call. His mama is enough to frighten the dragoons, but if I have to face him with stolen