The old man took up the evening paper, and began to read. “Canvas sixteen inches by twelve—just about your size, eh? One of the world’s masterpieces. Large reward for recovery been on offer for more than twenty-five years by French Government—but not claimed yet seemingly. Said to be finest Van Roon in existence. Now’s your chance, boy.” A second time S. Gedge Antiques winked at his niece; and then folding back the page of the Evening News, he handed it to William, with the air of a very sly dog indeed. “See for yourself. Special article. Mystery of Famous Missing Picture. When you find the signature of Mynheer Van Roon in the corner of this masterpiece of yours, I shouldn’t wonder if you’re able to set up in business for yourself.”
Allowing Fancy a loose rein in this benign hour, the old man, for the third time honoured his niece with a solemn wink.
VI
The next morning saw the beginning of a chain of epoch-making events in the history of S. Gedge Antiques.
Shortly before eight o’clock Mrs. Runciman turned up as usual after her day off. With a most businesslike promptitude, however, she was given her quietus. In dispensing with her services, from now on, Uncle Si took a real pleasure in what he called “telling her off.” Many times had he warned her that she would play the trick once too often. And now that his prophecy had come true, he was able to say just what he thought of her, of her ancestry, and of her sex in general. She would greatly oblige him by not letting him see her face again.
Mrs. Runciman, for her part, professed a cheerful willingness to take her late employer at his word. There was plenty of work to be had; and she departed on a note of dignity which she sustained by informing him in a voice loud enough for the neighbours to hear that “he was a miser, and a screw, and that he would skin a flea for its feathers.”
On the top of this ukase to the char, the old man held a short private conversation with his niece. June had begun very well; and if she continued to behave herself, got up in the morning without being called, was not afraid of hard work, and had the breakfast ready by a quarter to eight she would receive, in addition to board and lodging, two shillings a week pocket money, and perhaps a small present at Christmas.
As far as it went this was very well. “But,” said June, “there’s my clothes, Uncle Si.”
“Clothes!” The old man scratched his cheek. “You’ve money of your own, haven’t you?”
“Only twenty pounds.”