“What?”

“The money that’s being offered for Byron Bottle Company shares, of course. Ten pounds a pop! Unheard of! Wallace had a few shares of mine, you know, and when we separated he gave them back to me – said he didn’t want anything that reminded him of the Hurlingfords. I only have ten shares, but I can definitely use a hundred quid at the moment, darling. And just between you and me, Auntie Livvie is a bit on the short side too, so I’ve persuaded her to give me her twenty shares to sell while I’m selling mine.”

“How did Aunt Livilla manage to acquire shares?”

“Richard gave them to her when he couldn’t pay her back in cash the time he needed money so desperately he actually borrowed from her. Poor Richard! He never can bet on the right horses. And she’s such a stickler for repayment of loans, even when it’s her only beloved son on the borrowing end. So he signed over a few of his shares in the Byron Bottle Company to her, and that shut her up.”

“Has he got more?”

“Naturally. He’s a male Hurlingford, darling. But I do believe he may have sold out completely, because it was Richard put me onto this godsend of a buyer.”

“How can you sell someone else’s shares?”

“With a Power of Attorney. See?” Una held up a stiff foolscap form. “You get it at the stationer’s, like a will form. And you fill it out with the details, and you sign it, and whoever is giving you permission to act on her behalf signs it, and someone signs it as a witness.”

“I see,” said Missy, forgetting all about perusing the novels. She sat down again. “Una, do you have an address for whoever is buying Byron Bottle shares?”

“Right here, darling, though I’m taking the whole kit and kaboodle down to Sydney in person on Monday to sell them, it’s safer. That’s why I’m minding the library today, so I can have Monday off.” She got up and went back to make the tea.

Missy thought hard. Why couldn’t she, Missy, have a try at getting hold of the aunts’ certificates before Alicia came asking for them? Why should Alicia fill her with defeat when in their sole clash just concluded, Alicia had been the loser?

By the time Una came back with the tea tray, Missy had made up her mind.

“Oh, thank you.” She took her cup gratefully. “Una, is it imperative that you go to Sydney on Monday? Could you possibly make it Tuesday instead?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“I have an appointment with a Macquarie Street specialist next Tuesday morning,” Missy explained carefully. “I was going with Alicia, but... I don’t think she’s going to want my company, somehow. It’s possible I may have some of these shares to sell, and if I could go with you, it would be easier. I’ve only been to Sydney a couple of times when I was a child, so I don’t know the place.”

“Oh, what fun! Tuesday it is.” Una fairly glittered, so bright had the light in her become.

“I’ll have to ask you for another favour, I’m afraid.”

“Of course, darling. What?”

“Would you mind going next door to the stationer’s and buying me four of these Power of Attorney forms? You see, if I go myself, Uncle Septimus is sure to want to know what I need Power of Attorney forms for, and the next thing he’ll mention it to Uncle Billy, or Uncle Maxwell, or Uncle Herbert, and – well, I’d rather keep my business to myself.”

“I’ll go the minute I finish my cup of tea, while you’re here to mind the shop for me.”

And so it was arranged, including Una’s driving out to Missalonghi on Sunday afternoon at five o’clock to witness the signing of the forms. Luckily this time Missy had her own little money-purse with her, and luckily it contained two shillings; the forms were expensive, at threepence each.

“Thank you,” said Missy, stowing the rolled-up forms in her shopping bag.

She had decided upon some books as well.

“Good lord!” exclaimed Una, glancing at the titles. “Are you sure you want The Troubled Heart? I thought you said you read it to death all last week.”

“I did. But I still want to read it again.” And into the bag alongside the forms went The Troubled Heart.

“I’ll see you at Missalonghi on Sunday afternoon, and don’t worry, Auntie Livvie never minds lending me her horse and sulky,” said Una, accompanying Missy to the door, where she deposited a light kiss on Missy’s unaccustomed cheek. “Chin up, girl, you can do it,” she said, and pushed Missy out into the street.

“Mother,” said Missy that evening as she sat in the warmth of the kitchen with Drusilla and Octavia, “have you still got those Byron Bottle shares Grandfather left you and Aunt Octavia in his will?”

Drusilla looked up from her beading warily; though the altered pecking-order was of her own making, she still found it a little difficult to accept the fact that she was no longer the boss-chook. And she had learned very quickly to spot the more subtle, oblique approach Missy employed, so that she knew something was in the wind now.

“Yes, I’ve still got them,” she said.

Missy put her tatting in her lap and looked across at her mother very seriously. “Mother, do you trust me?”

Drusilla blinked. “Of course I do!”

“How much is a new Singer sewing machine?”

“I don’t honestly know, but I imagine at least twenty or thirty pounds, perhaps a great deal more.”

“If you had yet another hundred pounds besides the two hundred pounds Aunt Aurelia paid for Alicia’s linens, would you buy yourself a Singer sewing machine?”

“I would certainly be tempted.”

“Then give me your shares in Byron Bottle and let me sell them for you. I can get you ten pounds a share in Sydney.”

Both Drusilla and Octavia had ceased working.

“Missy dear, they’re worthless,” said Octavia gently.

“No, they are not worthless,” said Missy. “You’ve been duped by Uncle Billy and Uncle Herbert and the rest, is all. You should have been paid what’s called a dividend upon them every so often, because the Byron Bottle Company is an extremely prosperous concern.”

“No, you’re wrong!” insisted Octavia, shaking her head.

“I’m right. If you two and Aunt Cornelia and Aunt Julia had only taken yourselves off to a disinterested solicitor in Sydney years ago, you might be a lot richer today than you are, and that’s the truth.”

“We could never go behind the menfolk’s back, Missy,” said Octavia. “It would be a breach of faith and trust in them. They know better than we do, which is why they look after us and watch out for us. And they’re family!”

“Don’t I know it?” cried Missy from behind clenched teeth. “Aunt Octavia, your menfolk have been trading on the fact that they’re family ever since the Hurlingfords began! They use you! They exploit you! When have we ever got a fair price from Uncle Maxwell for our produce? Do you honestly swallow all those hard-luck stories of his about being done down in the markets himself, so how can he afford to pay us more? He’s as rich as Croesus! And when have you ever seen proof that Uncle Herbert actually did lose your money in an unlucky investment? He’s richer than Croesus! And didn’t Uncle Billy tell you in person that those shares were worthless?”

The fixity of Drusilla’s silent regard had passed from shock to doubt, from unwillingness to listen to a distinct desire to hear more. And by the end of this impassioned speech, even Octavia was visibly wavering. Perhaps had it been the old Missy sitting there destroying the old order, they might have dismissed what she said without a qualm; but this new Missy possessed an authority which lent her words the ring of unequivocal truth.

“Look,” Missy went on more quietly, “I can sell your shares in the Byron Bottle Company for ten pounds each, and I know that kind of opportunity is as rare as hen’s teeth, because I was there when Uncle Billy and Uncle Edmund were talking about it, and that’s what they said. They didn’t know I was listening, otherwise they’d not have said a word of it. They spoke of you as they think of you, with utter contempt. Believe me, I did not misinterpret what I heard, and I do not exaggerate. And I made up my mind that there was going to be an end to it, that I was going to see that you and Aunt Cornelia and Aunt Julia got the better of them for once. So give me your shares and let me sell them for you, because I’ll get you ten pounds each for them. But if you offer them to Uncle Billy or Uncle Herbert or Uncle Maxwell, they’ll bully you into signing them away for nothing.”