Harp's Manor

INSTALLMENT XVII

June 30, 1928

I may at last begin an installment with good news: the silence is ended!

It happened on Monday. I was in the library, having decided at long last to explore its vast collection. There are books of every kind inside: anthologies, anatomies, poetry, fiction, reference, even some old magazine collections. It's an easy place to get lost in, especially because it doesn't seem that Mr. Harp or any of the servants have bothered to organize it in the least. I was searching through some old historical texts, hoping for some reference on Queen Victoria I had not yet found, when the sound of soft footsteps entering the room made me pause. Turning from the shelf, my eyes were greeted by Mr. Forrest standing at the end of the row I was situated in. He was fiddling with his watch chain and staring at me silently. In the dim lighting, I could only make out his bright blue eye, the other melting into the shadows.

I waited for him to say something; to explain why he was here, or at least why he was staring at me like that. When he didn't, I said, "Yes?"

He cleared his throat. "Um. Yes. Well, Miss Thornton, we have not been on speaking terms for a while now, as you know."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Well, technically you did convince a friend of mine that I might be guilty of attempting to crush them with a bowling ball."

"And why did I think that?"

Mr. Forrest sighed. "I don't want to argue with you, Miss Thornton. I actually came here to apologize. Miss Jacobs has explained the situation to me as it stands, and now I understand what went wrong. If you aren't willing to forgive my mistakes, then I shall leave immediately."

I raised my eyebrows. "I have told you before, Mr. Forrest. I won't trust you until you tell me why Mrs. Maxwell has reason to fear you."

"And now I am willing to tell you," Mr. Forrest said. "Mrs. Maxwell's secret is not as important to me as your friendship, Miss Thornton, and I wish to keep no more secrets between us."

"Her secret? I thought it was yours."

"Let me explain." He leaned against the bookshelf and pulled out his pocket watch completely. It was a little golden thing, the design on the lid slightly worn, but with a gleam that suggested great care and attention. "Miss Jacobs has laid the entire situation out before me. I shall begin on that fateful day in May, when you parted. We overheard her and Mrs. Maxwell in discussion, correct? The secret they spoke of (so Miss Jacobs has told me) is that Mrs. Maxwell was receiving the Saturday Gazette. I may add here that I am disappointed in her actions, and in her invasion of your privacy that you have made strictly clear should not be known to any member of Harp's Manor. Somehow or the other, a letter of mine that I had been unwise enough to leave lying about had been found by Mrs. Maxwell, and she believed I knew this secret based on some loose inferences due to my language. She showed this letter to Miss Jacobs, who recognized the letter to be in my handwriting."

"That is all very interesting, but it does not explain why Mrs. Maxwell reacted the way she did. You two know each other from before this event, and I wish to know what your connection is."

"Yes, I was getting there," Mr. Forrest said. He had been fiddling with the watch, and it was now popped open. Carefully, he extracted a little paper from inside it, unfolding it in the same gentle manner. To my surprise, he offered the paper to me.

It was a little photograph, torn around the edges to include only the face of the person whose portrait it was. It was a man around the age of nineteen, with neatly combed hair, a prominent nose, and a mischievous glint in his eyes. The person vaguely resembled Mr. Forrest, except more animated and stout.