ack thing like a hollow handle fixed close to
the kitchen range. Quite uncomfortably near her ear. Worse than if he
himself had appeared at the kitchen door, which would have been normal,
though trying. And Mr. Stanley never lowered his voice. He always spoke
as if one were deaf, especially to foreigners who spoke English every bit
as well as himself. Mrs. Stanley gave excellent wages, and even bonuses
out of her dress money to try and keep cooks. But they all said the voice
from the wall got on their nerves. And no wonder. And then unpleasantness
when the cooks left. As if it were poor Mrs. Stanley's fault, and not his
own. She once suggested they should give up their house and live in an
hotel. He couldn't have a telephone arrangement to the kitchen there. But
he was more unpleasant still. Almost violent. And he died at last of an
attack of apoplexy. Such a relief to Mrs. Stanley. Not the dying of
apoplexy, which was a grief. But the quiet, and the being able to keep a
cook when he had gone." Mrs. Arbuthnot paused a moment to take breath.

"Do you know what became of the boy?" asked Trix.

Mrs. Arbuthnot considered for an instant.

"I believe he went abroad. Yes; I remember now, hearing from Mrs. Stanley
just before she died herself, poor soul--ptomaine poisoning and a dirty
cook, some people seem pursued by cooks, figuratively speaking, of
course,--that her brother had lost all his money and died, and that
Antony had gone abroad. We are told not to judge, and I don't, but it did
seem to me that Mrs. Stanley ought to have made him some provision, if
not before her death, at least after it. By will, of course I mean by
'after'! which in a sense would have been before death. But you
understand. Instead of which she left all her money to a deaf and dumb
asylum. No doubt good in its way, but not like anything religious, which
would have been more justifiable, though she was a Protestant. And
teaching dumb people to speak is always a doubtful blessing. They have
such an odd way of talking. Scarcely understandable. But perhaps better
than nothing for themselves, though not for others. Though with a
penniless nephew and all that money I _do_ think--But, as I said, we are
told not to judge."

"And you don't know what became of him after that?" asked Trix.

Mrs. Arbuthnot looked almost reproachful.

"My dearest, how could I? Mrs. Stanley in the family grave with her
brother,--she mentioned that particularly in her will, a