The Mandarin's Fan

Chapter 13

The funeral of Miss Wharf was attended by many people. Of course all her friends came with the usual wreaths of flowers, but owing to the tragic circumstances of her death, many strangers were present. She was buried in the family vault with much ceremony, and then the mourners departed talking of the crime. It was the general opinion that Tung-yu,-who had not yet been heard of,-was responsible for the death, and that he had sailed away in the Stormy Petrel. Rodgers having returned to Town after the inquest was making inquiries about the yacht. When he discovered her, he hoped to learn particulars as to the flight of Tung-yu.

These many days Rupert had not seen Olivia, although he had called at Ivy Lodge. But Miss Pewsey, who took charge of everything in her usual meddlesome way, would not allow him to be admitted. Olivia did not even know of his visit. She remained in her room, and mourned the death of her aunt. Miss Wharf had certainly been a good friend to her, but she could not be said to have been a kindly aunt. All the same Olivia's conscience pricked her, for having secretly married Rupert. As she now thought, she should have told her aunt. But the marriage was decided upon in a hurry, and when the girl had been more than usually piqued by the insulting speeches of Miss Wharf. However, the old woman was dead, and Olivia, little as she loved her, wept for her tragic end.

Miss Rayner, during her mourning, read the evidence given at the inquest, and wondered why she had not been called as a witness, if only to prove that she had given the scarf to Rupert. She thought it extraordinary that Tung-yu should have used the tie to strangle Miss Wharf, and could not think how it came into his possession. After some thought she concluded, that he had taken the scarf from Rupert's pocket, so as to implicate him in the crime, and had bribed Dalham the attendant, who certainly was not above being bribed, to say nothing about the matter. If this were the case, Dalham would probably blackmail Tung-yu for the rest of his life, as he was just the kind of rascal to make money in shady ways. Then it occurred to Olivia that as Tung-yu had sailed for China, presumably in the yacht, Dalham would not be able to make a milch cow of him. However, whether Tung-yu was guilty or not, she cared little. Rupert was safe, in spite of the evidence of the scarf, and so long as he escaped being arrested, the girl felt perfectly happy.

After the funeral Olivia came down-stairs again, and found Miss Pewsey looking after things as usual. The little old maid was most polite, and it seemed as though she was now anxious to make much of Olivia, thinking she would inherit the money. Miss Pewsey had not a shilling to bless herself with, and for years had lived on the bounty of Miss Wharf. Now that Olivia was to be the mistress of Ivy Lodge, Miss Pewsey appeared desirous of making herself pleasant, so that she might remain. Olivia saw through her newly born politeness, and, although she disliked the woman, was not averse to her remaining for a time at least.

"I should be glad for you to remain altogether," explained Olivia when matters came to be discussed, "but of course now that my aunt is gone I may marry Mr. Ainsleigh."

"Oh he'll marry you quick enough for your money," snapped Miss Pewsey, "not but what he's a handsome young fellow, but-"

"Don't run down Rupert," interrupted Olivia flushing, "I love him. You have never been just to him."

Miss Pewsey coughed. "I don't think he is a very good young man."

"I hate good young men," said Olivia. "Mr. Chris Walker is one of those who never cost his mother a single pang. Why my aunt should wish me to marry such a milksop, I can't understand."

"Well then, why not marry Clarence?" asked the old maid, "he is not a milksop and has cost his mother-poor soul many a pang. And he loves you dearly, Olivia. I should think you would be able to live very nicely on five hundred a year and with this house rent free."

"If I come into possession of the property that is."

"Oh, I am sure you will," said Miss Pewsey effusively. "To whom should dear Sophia leave the money, if not to you, her nearest relative."

"She might have left it to you, for she loved you, while she only tolerated me."

Miss Pewsey threw up her mittened hands with a cry of dismay. "Oh my dear there's no chance of my being so lucky. Sophia was very close about money matters-"

"Surely not with you, Miss Pewsey. She always consulted you in everything. You had great influence over her."

"If so, I made no use of it for my own benefit," said Miss Pewsey with great dignity. "Sophia never consulted me about her wills. I know she made several, and dictated the last just a week before her death. While she was confined to her room with that cold you know, Olivia. I suppose," Miss Pewsey tittered, "I suppose she wanted to be amused."

"I shouldn't think making one's will was amusing," said Olivia dryly, "however, the lawyer will be here this afternoon to read the will, and we shall know if I inherit."

"I am sure you will get the money. And dear, you won't forget your poor Lavinia," purred Miss Pewsey. "Let me remain here with you, until you marry Mr. Ainsleigh, or until I marry Theophilus."

"Are you really going to marry Dr. Forge?" asked Miss Rayner, looking with secret amazement at the withered face and shrunken form of Miss Pewsey and wondering what the doctor could see in her to make her his wife.

"I really am," said Miss Pewsey emphatically and with a shrewd look in her eyes. "And I see that you think it is ridiculous at my age to marry. Also, I am not handsome I know. All the same, Theophilus is willing to make me Mrs. Forge, and I dare say I'll grace the position well enough. It isn't love," added Miss Pewsey, "at our age dear that would be too absurd. We are simply entering into a partnership. He has money and I have brains."

"Dr. Forge has brains also."

"Not so much brain power as I have. I am not lovely I know dear, but I am clever," and Miss Pewsey drew herself up proudly. "Why poor dear Sophia would never have died worth so much money but for me. Ah, if she had only given me that fan when I asked her, she would not have been killed and I should have got five thousand pounds and more from Tung-yu for her. But she would keep the fan," Miss Pewsey squeezed out a tear, "and so met with her doom. That nasty Chinaman." Miss Pewsey shook a small fist. "I wish he could hang."

Olivia looked at her. "I heard that you disagreed with the verdict Miss Pewsey."

"Meaning that I said Mr. Ainsleigh was guilty," snapped the old maid, "well I did, dear, but I have changed my mind."

Miss Rayner did not believe this, for Miss Pewsey looked very malignant as she spoke. Her change of opinion was made, merely to adapt herself to circumstances and to retain a home until such time as her marriage with Forge, would enable her to dispense with Miss Rayner's help. However, Olivia did not argue the point. She wished to keep on good terms with the old maid, until Rupert declared the secret marriage. Then she could go to the Abbey, and leave Miss Pewsey behind with all other disagreeable things.

With Pastor, the solicitor of the deceased lady, came Clarence Burgh and Dr. Forge. Lady Jabe, more manly than ever, appeared with Chris Walker, who had taken a holiday on purpose to hear the will read, and Lady Jabe explained this to Miss Pewsey in a whisper. "I know that poor Sophia wished Chris to marry Olivia," she said, "so I thought the will might state that the money would be left to her on such a condition. I therefore made Chris ask for a holiday, so that he might hear of his good fortune."

"Let us hope it will come," aid Miss Pewsey, dryly, "but fortune or no fortune, Olivia will stick to young Ainsleigh."

"He is a nice young man, but poor."

"Chris is poor also. Yet you want him to marry Olivia."

"I think Chris has a better character than young Ainsleigh, who looks as though he has a will of his own. Now Chris has none. I have broken it, and Olivia as Mrs. Walker, can order him about like a slave. I hope Sophia has made the will as I wished."

"You'll hear in a minute. For my part," added Miss Pewsey in her spiteful way, "I hope Sophia has left the money to Olivia, on condition that she marries Clarence, and keeps him at home."

"And keeps him on the income," corrected Lady Jabe, who did not at all approve of this speech. "No man should live on his wife."

"You propose that Chris should do so."

"Indeed no. He earns quite a good salary at the office, and I could live with the young couple to prevent waste."

"I am quite sure you would," said Miss Pewsey, "if you get the money."

Lady Jabe would have made a sharp reply, as Miss Wharf being dead, she was under no obligation to curry favour with Miss Pewsey. But at that moment she saw Chris talking to Olivia, and as the girl seemed deeply interested, she pointed out the two with her cane. "I see Chris is losing no time," she murmured, "such a lover as he is."

But had she heard Chris talking, she would not have been so happy. The young man was simply replying to a question put by Olivia, as to the whereabouts of Tung-yu. "I really don't know where he is, Miss Rayner," said Chris, earnestly. "There was a police-officer at our place the other day inquiring. But Tung-yu has not been near Kum-gum Li's since I took him to the ball. I believe he asked me to get him an invitation so that he might kill your aunt."

"Does Kum-gum Li know anything about him," asked Olivia.

"No. He came with a letter of introduction from a mandarin--"

"Lo-Keong?"

"No. That is not the name-let me see-the Mandarin, Hop Sing--"

"Ah," said Forge, who was listening, "Lo-Keong's rival."

"I never knew that. But Kum-gum Li gave Tung-yu a place as extra clerk when he received the letter. He knows nothing more than what the letter explained."

"And what did it explain?" asked Forge with sudden interest.

"I can't tell you," replied Chris coldly, "I am not in the confidence of my employer, and if I were," he added fixing an indignant eye on the sardonic face of the doctor, "I should say nothing."

"Quite right," replied Forge not at all disconcerted, "you keep out of these Chinese affairs. There's danger in them."

"Connected with the fan?" demanded Olivia.

"Yes," said Forge slowly, "connected with the fan."

Olivia being a woman and curious, would have asked further questions, to which Dr. Forge might have hesitated to reply, but that Miss Pewsey called her dear Theophilus to her side. The will was about to be read and Miss Pewsey-so she said-wanted support. Forge crossed to the withered little shrimp he had chosen, heaven knows why, for his wife and sat down. The lawyer opened an envelope and took out a rustling parchment. Just as he cleared his throat, the door opened and the maid announced "Mr. Ainsleigh."

Miss Pewsey glared, and no one appeared glad to see him, Lady Jabe least of all, as she knew he was a powerful rival to Chris. But Rupert bowed to the company in silence, took no notice of their cold looks, and walked over to where Olivia sat, a little apart. He seated himself beside her. The girl smiled a little faintly, and then gazed straight before her. No one made any remark, as Pastor was beginning to read the will.

Miss Wharf, it appeared, died worth one thousand a year and the house and furniture and land of Ivy Lodge. Five hundred a year went to a distant relative, as Miss Wharf was unable to leave it to anyone else, by reason of only having a life interest in this amount. Then a few personal bequests were left to Lady Jabe, to Chris Walker, and to some other friends. Ivy Lodge, and the furniture, and the land it was built on, and the remaining five hundred a year was left to-Lavinia Pewsey. When the name was mentioned the little old maid quivered, and Olivia, pale and quiet, rose to her feet. In a moment Miss Pewsey, prepared for battle, was on her feet also, and the two women looked at one another.

"You knew of this will," said Olivia quietly.

"No," replied Miss Pewsey.

"You did. And all your paying court to me was a blind, so that I might not suspect Aunt Sophia had left the money to you."

"Dearest Sophia left the money to whom she chose," said Miss Pewsey, in a sharp, shrill voice, "do you mean to say, that I exercised any undue influence over her?"

"I say nothing," was Olivia's reply: "but hard on me as my aunt was, I do not think she would have left me penniless, while the money which belonged to my family goes to a perfect stranger."

"A stranger," cried Miss Pewsey tossing her head, "am I a stranger, indeed? I was hand and glove with dear Sophia when we were at school together. I gave up my life to her--"

"And you have got your reward," said Olivia bitterly.

"As you say," retorted Miss Pewsey, tossing her head again, "but the will is in order, and I had nothing to do with the making of it. I appeal to Mr. Pastor."

"Why, certainly," said the lawyer, looking on Olivia with something like pity. "Miss Wharf gave me instructions to make a new will, during the week before she met with her untimely end. Miss Pewsey was not in the room--"

"But no doubt she induced my aunt to cut me out of the will."

"No," cried Miss Pewsey breathing very hard, and looking more drab than ever. "I won't stand this. Your aunt had good cause to take the money from you-oh you deceiving girl."

At this Rupert suddenly rose and took Olivia's hand. He half guessed what was coming, and looked at the spiteful face of the heiress. Olivia stared. She could not understand. Miss Pewsey was about to speak, when Mr. Pastor intervened.

"May I be permitted to remark that I have not finished reading the will of the deceased lady," said he sweetly.

"There's no more money to be disposed of," said Olivia bitterly, "my enemy has got it all."

Pastor made a gesture of silence to prevent Miss Pewsey bursting out into a volume of words. "There is no more money to be disposed of as you say, Miss Rayner, but Miss Wharf sets forth in the will why she disinherited you."

"Ah," cried Olivia a light breaking in upon her, and reading the truth in Miss Pewsey's look of triumph, "so my aunt knew--"

"She knew that you had secretly married the gentleman beside you."

Everyone was on his or her feet by this time, and every look was directed towards Olivia. "Is this true?" asked Lady Jabe.

"Yes," cried Miss Pewsey, before either Rupert or Olivia could speak, "of course it is true. Let them deny it if they can. I heard Olivia say herself, that she had been married at a registrar's."

Miss Rayner, or rather Mrs. Ainsleigh turned on the little woman, "I should like to know when I said that to you Miss Pewsey?"

"You never said it to me-oh dear no," said Miss Pewsey shrilly, "you were not straightforward enough. But I heard-oh yes I heard."

"Miss Wharf," said the lawyer folding up the will, "told me that she learned of this from Miss Pewsey, just before she called me in, to make a new will. The five hundred a year was left to you Miss--"

"Mrs. Ainsleigh," said Rupert quickly.

"Very good. To you Mrs. Ainsleigh, by a former will. But on discovering the secret marriage, my client made a new will-this," he shook it," and Miss Pewsey benefits."

"Miss Pewsey has every right to benefit," said Mrs. Ainsleigh in a clear cold voice, "she has been well paid, for being a spy."

"Spy," shrilled Miss Pewsey glaring, "yes I was a spy in the interests of dearest Sophia. I followed you several times, when you went to meet Mr. Ainsleigh near the flag-staff, and on the last occasion--"

"Ah," said Olivia tranquilly, "so I thought. I heard something moving. It was you, concealed. Rupert said it was a rat-perhaps he was right. Well Miss Pewsey you have gained your ends and now--"

"Now you leave my house," said the old maid, "yes, my house."

Olivia made no reply but placed her hand within her husband's arm. Rupert conducted her towards the door. "Mrs. Ainsleigh's effects will be sent for," said he looking at Miss Pewsey, "we will not trouble you further."

"But the law will trouble you," cried Miss Pewsey, "you--"

Rupert turned and looked at her. The venomous words died on her lips. She dropped into her chair, while Ainsleigh and the disinherited Olivia left Ivy Lodge to the woman, who had schemed for it in so base a way.