I arrived at Southby Hall quite unannounced.

The Butler regaled me suspiciously.

“May I help you sir?” he asked.

“Possibly, where is your master?” I asked.

“He is away sir,” he replied.

“Excellent, tell me do you have any silver or paintings?” I asked.

“No sir the master has sold the family silver and paintings,” he explained, “Why do you ask?”

“Always on the look out for a bargain,” I replied, “Surely there is something you could sell me, I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I am afraid the master has already sold everything of consequence,” the Butler added, “It is said he would sell his own grandmother were there any prospect of finding a buyer.”

“Excellent,” I agreed, “Well you have passed the test, albeit barely,” I admitted, “I am Stanley Albright and as of this noon I am the new master of Southby Hall.”

He looked shocked. “Oh don’t worry, he ran out of Grandmothers to sell so I snapped it up at a ridiculous price, just have to decide whether to keep it as a home or turn it into a boarding school like Eton and the like.”

He looked worried, “But what about our jobs?” he asked.

“Bit of a bugger I suppose, getting employment at your age,” I suggested, “Not a lot of call for rotund lazy fellows who spend most of their waking hours dozing in a comfortable arm chair.”

He bridled but held his tongue.

“So how many staff are there?” I asked.

“Well there’s Cook, and Housekeeper and,” he explained.

“Oh save your breath assemble the staff forthwith that I may address them.” I ordered, he hesitated, “Do it man, now, chop chop.”

He scuttled away, the lazy fat oaf.

I wandered around the house taking in the study, dining and withdrawing rooms, library and such like.

The Butler returned, “The staff are assembled in the servant’s hall sir.”

“Good man, lead on.” I replied.

He led me down the servant’s stairs to the servant’s room next to the kitchen where they ate and did household chores like polishing the silver,

A throng of worried faces awaited me, some no more than children.