The Secret Passage | Page 9

us all.'"
While the cook maundered on Thomas sat with his dull eyes fixed on
the flushed face of Susan "What about the poisoning?" he demand.
"It was this way," said Susan. "Father was working at some house in
these parts -- "
"What! Down here?"
"Yes, at Rexton, which was then just rising into notice as a place for
gentlefolks. He had just finished with a house when he came home one
day with his wages. He was taken ill and died. The doctor said he had
taken poison, and he died of it. Arsenic it was," explained Susan to her
horrified; audience.
"But why did he poison himself?" asked Geraldine.
"I don't know: no one knew. He was gettin' good wages, and said he
would make us all rich."
"Ah," chimed in Thomas suddenly, "in what way, Susan?"
"He had a scheme to make our fortunes. What it was, I don't know. But
he said he would soon be worth plenty of money. Mother thought

someone must have poisoned him, but she could not find out. As we
had a lot of trouble then, it was thought father had killed himself to
escape it, but I know better. If he had lived, we should have been rich.
He was on an extra job down here," she ended.
"What was the extra job?" asked Thomas curiously.
Susan shook her head. "Mother never found out. She went to the house
he worked on, which is near the station. They said father always went
away for three hours every afternoon by an arrangement with the
foreman. Where he went, no one knew. He came straight from this
extra job home and died of poison. Mother thought," added Susan,
looking round cautiously, "that someone must have had a wish to get
rid of father, he knowing too much."
"Too much of what, my gal?" asked Mrs. Pill, with open mouth.
"Ah! That's what I'd like to find out," said Susan garrulously, "but
nothing was ever known, and father was buried as a suicide. Then
mother, having me and my four brothers, married again, and I took the
name of her new husband."
"Then your name ain't really Grant?" asked Geraldine.
"No! It's Maxwell, father being Scotch and a clever workman. Susan
Maxwell is my name, but after the suicide -- if it was one -- mother felt
the disgrace so, that she made us all call ourselves Grant. So Susan
Grant I am, and my brothers of the old family are Grant also."
"What do you mean by the old family?"
"Mother has three children by her second husband, and that's the new
family," explained Susan, "but we are all Grants, though me and my
four brothers are really Maxwells. But there," she said, looking round
quietly and rather pleased at the interest with which she was regarded,
"I've told you a lot. Tell me something!"
Mrs. Pill was unwilling to leave the fascinating subject of suicide, but

her desire to talk got the better of her, and she launched into a long
account of her married life. It seemed she had buried the late Mr. Pill
ten years before, and since that time had been with Miss Loach as cook.
She had saved money and could leave service at once, if she so chose.
"But I should never be happy out of my kitchen, my love," said Mrs.
Pill, biting a piece of darning-cotton, "so here I stay till missus goes
under."
"And she won't do that for a long time," said Thomas. "Missus is strong.
A good, kind, healthy lady."
Geraldine followed with an account of herself, which related chiefly to
her good looks and many lovers, and the tyranny of mistresses. "I will
say, however, that after being here a year, I have nothing to complain
of."
"I should think not," grunted Thomas. "I've been twenty years with
Miss Loach, and a good 'un she is. I entered her service when I was
fifteen, and she could have married an earl -- Lord Caranby wanted to
marry her -- but she wouldn't."
"Lor," said Mrs. Pill, "and ain't that his lordship's nephew who comes
here at times?"
"Mr. Mallow? Yes! That's him. He's fond of the old lady."
"And fond of her niece, too," giggled Geraldine; "not but what Miss
Saxon is rather sweet."
"Rather sweet," growled the cook, "why, she's a lovely gal, sich as
you'll never be, in spite of your fine name. An' her brother, Mr. Basil, is
near as 'andsome as she."
"He ain't got the go about him Miss Juliet have," said Thomas.
"A lot you know," was the cook's retort. "Why Mr. Basil quarrelled
with missus a week ago and gave her proper, and missus ain't no easy
person to fight with, as I knows.