"Mr. Monk has engaged Joseph to attend to his own garden," I reminded her.
"The Lodge garden is in good order," she snapped, "whereas mine needs a lot of attention. Walter might send the man along."
"If you pay Joseph, Miss Destiny----"
"Pay him," she interrupted with a shriek, and throwing up her hands, "my dear Mr. Vance, it is as much as I can do to keep bread in my mouth. I am reduced to this"--she glanced round--"which is by no means the abode of a gentlewoman. But Gertrude and her father would let me starve sooner than behave as relatives should."
"Oh, no, no," I protested. "Miss Monk is extremely kind."
"Have you found her so?" demanded the vindictive aunt.
"I have found her charming," was my cautious reply.
"Charms don't pay taxes, Mr. Vance. I suppose," she added abruptly, "that you intend to marry her. Oh, don't look so astonished, young man. I remember how you admired her photograph in Anne's house, and you didn't come here for nothing. Oh dear me, no."
"I came here to learn all I could about the glass eye, so that I might trace the assassin of Anne Caldershaw."
"Oh, indeed," Miss Destiny's sharp eyes twinkled wickedly, "and you haunt my niece in order to ask questions?"