“Not mine. Miss Eyelesbarrow’s.”
“You make ’em just as good,” said Quimper loyally.
“Will you come and see Father?”
She rose and the doctor followed her. Miss Marple watched them leave the room.
“Miss Crackenthorpe is a very devoted daughter, I see,” she said.
“Can’t imagine how she sticks the old man myself,” said the outspoken Cedric.
“She has a very comfortable home here, and father is very much attached to her,” said Harold quickly.
“Em’s all right,” said Cedric. “Born to be an old maid.”
There was a faint twinkle in Miss Marple’s eye as she said:
“Oh, do you think so?”
Harold said quickly:
“My brother didn’t use the term old maid in any derogatory sense, Miss Marple.”
“Oh, I wasn’t offended,” said Miss Marple. “I just wondered if he was right. I shouldn’t say myself that Miss Crackenthorpe would be an old maid. She’s the type, I think, that’s quite likely to marry late in life—and make a success of it.”
“Not very likely living here,” said Cedric. “Never sees anybody she could marry.”
Miss Marple’s twinkle became more pronounced than ever.
“There are always clergymen—and doctors.”
Her eyes, gentle and mischievous, went from one to another.
It was clear that she had suggested to them something that they had never thought of and which they did not find overpleasing.
Miss Marple rose to her feet, dropping as she did so, several little woolly scarves and her bag.
The three brothers were most attentive picking things up.
“So kind of you,” fluted Miss Marple. “Oh, yes, and my little blue muffler. Yes—as I say—so kind to ask me here. I’ve been picturing, you know, just what your home was like—so that I can visualize dear Lucy working here.”
“Perfect home conditions—with murder thrown in,” said Cedric.
“Cedric!” Harold’s voice was angry.
Miss Marple smiled up at Cedric.
“Do you know who you remind me of? Young Thomas Eade, our bank manager’s son. Always out to shock people. It didn’t do in banking circles, of course, so he went to the West Indies… He came home when his father died and inherited quite a lot of money. So nice for him. He was always better at spending money than making it.”
II
Lucy took Miss Marple home. On her way back a figure stepped out of the darkness and stood in the glare of the headlights just as she was about to turn into the back lane. He held up his hand and Lucy recognized Alfred Crackenthorpe.
“That’s better,” he observed, as he got in. “Brr, it’s cold! I fancied I’d like a nice bracing walk. I didn’t. Taken the old lady home all right?”
“Yes. She enjoyed herself very much.”
“One could see that. Funny what a taste old ladies have for any kind of society, however dull. And, really, nothing could be duller than Rutherford Hall. Two days here is about as much as I can stand. How do you manage to stick it out, Lucy? Don’t mind if I call you Lucy, do you?”
“Not at all. I don’t find it dull. Of course with me it’s not a permanency.”
“I’ve been watching you—you’re a smart girl, Lucy. Too smart to waste yourself cooking and cleaning.”
“Thank you, but I prefer cooking and cleaning to the office desk.”
“So would I. But there are other ways of living. You could be a freelance.”
“I am.”
“Not this way. I mean, working for yourself, pitting your wits against—”
“Against what?”
“The powers that be! All the silly pettifogging rules and regulations that hamper us all nowadays. The interesting thing is there’s always a way round them if you’re smart enough to find it. And you’re smart. Come now, does the idea appeal to you?”
“Possibly.”
Lucy manoeuvred the car into the stableyard.
“Not going to commit yourself?”
“I’d have to hear more.”
“Frankly, my dear girl, I could use you. You’ve got the sort of manner that’s invaluable—creates confidence.”
“Do you want me to help you sell gold bricks?”
“Nothing so risky. Just a little by-passing of the law—no more.” His hand slipped up her arm. “You’re a damned attractive girl, Lucy. I’d like you as a partner.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Meaning nothing doing? Think about it. Think of the fun. The pleasure you’d get out of outwitting all the sober-sides. The trouble is, one needs capital.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t got any.”
“Oh, it wasn’t a touch! I’ll be laying my hands on some before long. My revered Papa can’t live forever, mean old brute. When he pops off, I lay my hands on some real money. What about it, Lucy?”
“What are the terms?”
“Marriage if you fancy it. Women seem to, no matter how advanced and self-supporting they are. Besides, married women can’t be made to give evidence against their husbands.”
“Not so flattering!”
“Come off it, Lucy. Don’t you realize I’ve fallen for you?”
Rather to her surprise Lucy was aware of a queer fascination. There was a quality of charm about Alfred, perhaps due to sheer animal magnetism. She laughed and slipped from his encircling arm.
“This is no time for dalliance. There’s dinner to think about.”
“So there is, Lucy, and you’re a lovely cook. What’s for dinner?”
“Wait and see! You’re as bad as the boys!”
They entered the house and Lucy hurried to the kitchen. She was rather surprised to be interrupted in her preparations by Harold Crackenthorpe.
“Miss Eyelesbarrow, can I speak to you about something?”
“Would later do, Mr. Crackenthorpe? I’m rather behind hand.”
“Certainly. Certainly. After dinner?”
“Yes, that will do.”
Dinner was duly served and appreciated. Lucy finished washing up and came out into the hall to find Harold Crackenthorpe waiting for her.
“Yes, Mr. Crackenthorpe?”
“Shall we come in here?” He opened the door of the drawing room and led the way. He shut the door behind her.
“I shall be leaving early in the morning,” he explained, “but I want to tell you how struck I have been by your ability.”
“Thank you,” said Lucy, feeling a little surprised.
“I feel that your talents are wasted here—definitely wasted.”
“Do you? I don’t.”
At any rate, he can’t ask me to marry him, thought Lucy. He’s got a wife already.
“I suggest that having very kindly seen us through this lamentable crisis, you call upon me in London. If you will ring up and make an appointment, I will leave instructions with my secretary. The truth is that we could use someone of your outstanding ability in the firm. We could discuss fully in what field your talents would be most ably employed. I can offer you, Miss Eyelesbarrow, a very good salary indeed with brilliant prospects. I think you will be agreeably surprised.”
His smile was magnanimous.
Lucy said demurely:
“Thank you, Mr. Crackenthorpe, I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t wait too long. These opportunities should not be missed by a young woman anxious to make her way in the world.”
Again his teeth flashed.
“Good night, Miss Eyelesbarrow, sleep well.”