"Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie."
Kate was outside early the next morning. The rain had stopped well before dawn and the morning was a cheerful one, mild and bright, promising a fine day. With Aunt Sabrina and Mudd, Kate made a tour of the shrubbery, trying to identify the intruder's route of escape. But if he had left
footprints or his horse any hoofprints, they had been obscured by the heavy rain that fell shortly after midnight. Mudd sent Pocket to notify the constable about the attempted break-in, and Kate and Aunt Sabrina returned to the library.
"So the only clue to the intruder's identity is the brown felt hat," Kate said, turning it over in her hands.
"Hardly a clue, I should think," Aunt Sabrina said. "It looks as if it came out of a dustbin."
"Perhaps you are right," Kate said slowly. She would have to tell Aunt Sabrina about the man who had visited the kitchen the day before. Jenny Blyly's young man, Tom Potter. He must have been the intruder, and he was clearly up to no good. And there was the matter of the altercation between Aunt Jaggers and Mrs. Pratt. Aunt Sabrina would have to know about that, as well.
But perhaps not at this very moment. Aunt Sabrina did not look well. Her eyes were smudged, her voice strained. Her costume this morning was a navy blue dress fitted far more conservatively than her usual loose gowns, and she wore a gold watch clipped to a brooch on her lapel. Her gray hair was arranged in a tidy knot at the back of her neck. Her appearance was more severe than it had been since Kate's arrival, and her mouth was set, as if she had come to some conclusion that she did not relish.
"Tramping about the shrubbery so early has made me rather hungry," Aunt Sabrina said. "Shall we have some breakfast?'' She paused a moment, and then added, as if in afterthought, "We shall not be working this morning, Kath-ryn."
Kate looked at her aunt in surprise. "No?"
"No." Aunt Sabrina's tone was flat. "I have determined to set the history aside for the moment. When I am ready to resume work, I shall tell you."
"But I have already begun to translate Fraulein Sprengel's letters," Kate objected gently. She frowned, remembering the questions and reservations about the letters that had arisen in her mind the afternoon before. But that seemed so long ago, and of much less consequence than the events that had occurred since. There was really no point in mentioning her
concerns, especially if they were not going forward with the history.
Aunt Sabrina's face had darkened. "Ah, yes, the letters. Please collect them for me, and the cipher document and its transcription, and any copies you may have made of either." Aunt Sabrina's voice was firm and authoritative, and her manner invited neither remark nor rebuttal.
"Yes, Aunt," Kate said obediently, and began to gather the documents into a neat stack. She handed it to Aunt Sa-brina.
"Is this all?"
"Yes, Aunt."
Aunt Sabrina took them. "Thank you," she said. "Please follow me." Without a word, she went from the room, with Kate a half step behind, wondering at the determined set of the other woman's shoulders. What had happened during Aunt Sabrina's absence yesterday to change her so decidedly? Where had she gone? Whom had she seen? What had she learned?
In her bedroom, Aunt Sabrina took a framed oil from the wall. Where the painting had hung was a small safe, which Aunt Sabrina opened with a key she took from the top drawer of a delicate Queen Anne desk.
"The documents are to remain here until they are asked for by the vicar," Aunt Sabrina said. She put them into the safe, and secured it with the key. She looked directly at Kate. "Were I to answer your questions about the letters, my dear, I would have to lie." She turned away with a firmness that absolutely concluded the matter.
But there was something else Kate needed to say, and she could not delay any longer. She cleared her throat. "Aunt Sabrina," she said, "something happened in the kitchen yesterday evening that I feel you should know about."
Aunt Sabrina replaced the painting on the wall. "Do not tell me," she said gravely, "that my sister has been at the servants again."
"I am afraid so," Kate said.
Aunt Sabrina was resigned. "What happened?"
"Aunt Jaggers struck Harriet. Mrs. Pratt came to her defense and dumped a half bucket of water on Aunt Jaggers." Kate hesitated, and then added, "Aunt Jaggers fired her."
Aunt Sabrina's mouth tightened. "Bernice discharged Cook!" she exclaimed in surprise. "What can she have been thinking of!"
Kate smiled a little. "I don't believe she was thinking at all. Perhaps by now she has cooled. At any rate, Mrs. Pratt stood her ground. She is awaiting your decision about her future employment."
"I will speak to Cook," Aunt Sabrina said with taut anger. There were spots of color high on her cheeks, and her nostrils were flared. ' 'And then to Bernice. If I had not already decided to put an end to her threats and petty cruelties, this would be the last straw."
Kate stared, surprised at her aunt's anger. If she were reacting to her sister's treatment of Harriet and Cook, surely her response was exaggerated. But Kate already suspected that there was something else between them, some bitter secret Aunt Jaggers had been holding over Aunt Sabrina like a dagger. It looked as if Aunt Sabrina had decided to take matters into her own hands. What was she going to do? Was she willing to risk the disclosure of the secret information that Aunt Jaggers seemed to hold?
Aunt Sabrina turned. "I find I have lost my appetite for breakfast," she said, "but I wish to speak with the servants. Would you mind, Kathryn, accompanying me belowstairs?"
"Of course not," Kate said. "There is something else, though." She hesitated, wondering whether she should tell Aunt Sabrina about Tom Potter. But perhaps it would be well to speak with Mrs. Pratt first. She made up her mind. "There is something else, though," she repeated. "It's a small thing, but I'm afraid it must be dealt with this morning. During my visit to Marsden Manor on the day before yesterday, I invited the Marsdens-Eleanor, Patsy, and Bradford-and Sir Charles to luncheon here today. I meant to speak to you about it yesterday, but an occasion did not present itself. Today does not seem the best time for a social call. When Pocket returns from the village, may I send him with a note, postponing the luncheon?"
"No." Aunt Sabrina's voice was firm. "I am glad that you have invited your friends. Come. We will do our business with the servants, and then speak to Cook about the luncheon. She is a competent cook, but a plain cook, and she will need our assistance with the menu."