Yes, unlikely. “I am sorry to say that this is the first time since he passed that I have reminisced with anyone about him,” Chase said. “The conversations have all been on other things.”

They both nodded. No one had to itemize those other things. The manner of death. The will.

“At the risk of alluding to that again, I just remembered that I have a request from my father,” Kevin said to Nicholas. “He wants to know if you have found the mechanical man. He wants it, if you are willing to let it go.”

The mechanical man was an automaton. Uncle Frederick had purchased it, and actually used it, because it could move on wheels. It carried a salver in one hand, like a butler. Uncle liked to place glasses of drink on it, and have it carry the glasses to guests.

“I haven’t seen it in years,” Nicholas said. “Chase?”

Chase shook his head.

“You are welcome to come to the house and look for it. When it ceased amusing Uncle he probably put it in an attic.”

“I may do that, since it started my own father’s fascination with the damned things,” Kevin said. “Father has asked me to attach a little steam engine to it, so it moves faster. I have advised against it, but . . .” He shrugged the shrug of a son never heard by a father.

“It did move very slowly,” Chase said.

Kevin gave him a look of forbearance. “Which meant it stopped if it hit a chair or a person. Imagine it with a steam engine. An automaton stops working if the mechanism unwinds, which happens fairly quickly. A steam engine works quite differently.”

Nicholas started laughing. “I think you must find it and do as your father wants. Please invite me to the demonstration. I am seeing that little butler crashing about the library like a marauder in high blood.”

“I think a better site would be among those urns, not a library.” Kevin set his glass down. “Let us go. The two of you can further distract me from my brooding by losing lots of money to me at cards.”

Nicholas looked at Chase, with mock astonishment. “Was it your plan to distract him from brooding? What an odd thing for him to suggest.”

“Not me. You? Nor is he given to brooding.” He opened the door. “You are too suspicious, Kevin.”

Kevin crossed the threshold, shaking his head and sighing.

* * *

Due to her early morning errands the next day, Minerva did not read the newspaper until afternoon. The day had turned fair, so she brought it outside to the small garden and sat on a stone bench. Her quick scan of the advertisements stopped abruptly when she saw her own name.

Desire information on Margaret Finley, widow of Algernon, of Dorset County. To report or inquire, write to John Smith, care of Montgomery Stationers, Montagu Street.