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a few minutes without arousing suspicion.
    Matilda and Mrs Robson were working in the kitchen, the former stirring a pot of soup and the latter, with heavily floured arms, putting the finishing touches to a large, thick-crusted pie of savoury aspect. Mrs Robson stopped what she was doing as the headmistress and Frances entered, and stood respectfully by the table, but Matilda simply looked around briefly and went on stirring.
    ‘I trust that that is all you need to see?’ enquired Mrs Venn.
    ‘It is,’ said Frances, sitting down. ‘And after such hard work I would welcome a cup of tea.’
    Mrs Venn paused a little longer than was necessary. ‘Matilda,’ she said at last, ‘please provide Miss Doughty with a cup of tea before she departs.’ Without a word, Matilda put her spoon down and went to fetch the teapot.
    Frances glanced at the timetable. ‘I will return after two o’clock to speak to Mr Copley, Mlle Girard, Miss Baverstock and Miss Bell. I would be grateful if a private room could be provided. At five I would like to see the three girls who board here.’
    ‘Of course,’ said Mrs Venn, with an effort at being accommodating, ‘I will make the arrangements.’
    ‘This is all about those silly papers in the girls’ desks, isn’t it?’ said Mrs Robson, when Mrs Venn had left. ‘I hope you don’t think we had anything to do with it?’
    ‘Not at all,’ said Frances. ‘But you may be able to help me by letting me know what visitors came to the house between twelve on Tuesday and nine the next morning?’
    ‘Mr Sandcourt came on the Tuesday,’ said Matilda, bustling with the teapot, which Frances saw was being filled for more than one, ‘and then Mr Fiske with Mr Miggs.’
    ‘And they all had appointments?’
    ‘They did, and I took them straight up to see Mrs Venn, and showed them out when they went.’
    ‘No one else was here? No one who might have waited in the hallway?’
    Matilda shook her head. Mrs Robson put the pie in the oven and opened a box of currant biscuits and they all sat down to tea.
    ‘Were there any visitors on the Wednesday morning?’ asked Frances.
    ‘Not at the front door, no,’ said Matilda.
    ‘There were the usual delivery men at the kitchen door, and Mrs Armstrong, who collects the linens to go to the washhouse,’ said Mrs Robson, ‘but none of them even came inside let alone went upstairs.’
    ‘And Davey came to see me,’ said Matilda with a superior smile. ‘My intended. I gave him a cup of tea.’
    ‘Mrs Venn has no objection to your young man calling here?’ asked Frances with some surprise.
    ‘None at all,’ said Matilda, firmly.
    ‘Can you think of anyone who might have had the opportunity to put something in the girls’ desks – or who might have wanted to do such a thing?’
    Both the servants shook their heads. ‘I can’t see what all the fuss is about,’ said Mrs Robson.
    ‘What was in the papers?’ asked Matilda, with a sly little laugh and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. ‘It wasn’t one of those romance stories with pirates and brigands? Can I see one?’
    ‘They were not stories at all, so I understand,’ said Frances, ‘but they have been burnt so I have not been able to examine one.’ Matilda looked disappointed.
    ‘Well,’ said Mrs Robson, ‘If Mrs Venn has burnt them then it must be for the best.’ She gave a firm nod, gulped the rest of her tea and went back to work.
    There was no more to be discovered so Frances finished her tea and departed. Thus far, she reflected as she walked home, her enquiries had resulted in the conclusion that those people who had the opportunity to put the pamphlets in the desks were the very ones who had no motive to do so. She was left with two very important questions. At some point in the future she would firstly have to ask Mrs Venn for the real reason she had destroyed the pamphlets, and, secondly, what it was that she was afraid of, but that time had not yet come.

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