108. An Archangel Called Ivan Read Online Free Page A

before.
    She dressed and enjoyed a large breakfast.
    To the household’s surprise she did not want to go riding in Rotten Row. Instead she ordered a carriage as she said that she needed to go shopping.
    Her aunt had made it a rule for some time that she would not have her breakfast until ten o’clock. Therefore she had no desire to discuss the engagements of the day until at least an hour later.
    As Arliva did not wish to be questioned as to what she was about to do, she ordered a carriage at a quarter-to-ten to go shopping.
    “Do you wish that Mrs. Featherstone comes with you, miss?” the butler asked.
    She was the housekeeper and Arliva would usually have preferred to take her shopping with her than one of the other maids, who knew nothing about fashion and only stood staring while she purchased something.
    “Not this morning,” Arliva answered. “I don’t have to go far and I know that she is busy clearing up after last night’s party.”
    “A right mess a party always leaves behind,” the butler replied, “especially when it’s for the young ‘uns.”
    Arliva laughed.
    “We will grow old soon enough. You must not stop us being young while we have the opportunity.”
    The butler smiled.
    “It’s good for us all to have you here, Miss Arliva,” he said. “We gets old and stuck in our ways, as I were sayin’ to cook only yesterday. A party, even if it gives us a lot of work makes us feel young again just watchin’ you.”
    “I knew you would understand, Rickards,” she said. “At the same time it will take them a while to make the floor as good as it was. I noticed when the guests came in from the garden that some of them brought in sand and even grass on their shoes.”
    “We’ll soon polish it off, miss,” Rickards replied confidently.
    Arliva laughed again.
    She told Rickards, as he saw her into the carriage, to tell the coachman to take her to Bond Street.
    When they arrived, she said that she wanted to go first to the bank in Hanover Square.
    Coutts Bank, where her father had kept his money, was one of the oldest in London.
    When Arliva asked to see the Bank Manager, she was taken immediately to his room.
    As she was announced, he then jumped up from his chair and held out his hand.
    “This is a great surprise, Miss Ashdown,” he said, “and, of course, you are very welcome.”
    Arliva smiled at him and sat down in the chair in front of his desk.
    “I have come to talk to you, Mr. Carter,” she said, “about some of the things I require doing immediately and everything I say is naturally confidential.”
    The Bank Manager nodded his head as if this was too obvious to require a reply.
    Arliva went on,
    “I want you to write to Mr. Charles Walton and tell him that my father gave you instructions before he died that, if any of his closest friends were in trouble, he would help them out of their difficulties so long as it was not publicised or talked about to anyone else.”
    The Bank Manager stared at her in surprise, but he did not interrupt.
    “I want you to send Mr. Charles Walton the sum of twenty thousand pounds on the condition that he does not convey to anyone who he has received it from.”
    The Bank Manager gave a gasp.
    “ Twenty thousand pounds , Miss Ashdown! That is a very large sum and, of course, I would have to discuss it with your Trustees.”
    Arliva held up her hand.
    “I told you that this was a private matter between you and me. I have had my father’s instructions as to what to do and you must now take mine that it is a matter of complete secrecy and you must make sure that Mr. Walton does not talk about it to anyone else.”
    “But I don’t think,” the Bank Manager said, “that this very large sum can be paid without the support and assurance of your Trustees that the sum would be returned within a certain amount of time and naturally I must have their authority to do what you ask.”
    There was silence for a moment.
    Then Arliva said slowly and in a positive