'Then you'll write to the Princess after tea, Alfred? I'll write to Lady Tadminster for
the second day, myself. Or shall we wait until we hear from the Princess? In case
of a refusal, Lady Tadminster might open it the first day, and Mrs Cros-bie the second.
Then there's the Duchess--about the school fete.'
There was the murmur of a man's voice, and then Mrs Inglethorp's rose in reply:
'Yes, certainly. After tea will do quite well. You are so thoughtful, Alfred dear.'
The french window swung open a little wider, and handsome white-haired old lady,
with a somewhat masterful cast of features, stepped out of it on to the lawn. A
man followed her, a suggestion of deference in his manner.
Mrs Inglethorp greeted me with effusion.
'Why, if it isn't too delightful to see you again, Mr Hastings, after all these years.
Alfred, darling, Mr Hastings--my hus-band.'
I looked with some curiosity at 'Alfred darling'. He certainly struck a rather alien
note. I did not wonder at John objecting to his beard. It was one of the longest
and blackest I have ever seen. He wore gold-rimmed pince-nez, and had a curious
impassivity of feature. It struck me that he might look natural on a stage, but was
strangely out of place in real life. His voice was rather deep and unctuous. He placed
a wooden hand in mind and said: 'This is a pleasure, Mr Hastings.' Then, turning to
his wife: 'Emily dearest, I think that cushion is a little damp.'
She beamed fondly at him, as he substituted another with every demonstration of the
tenderest care. Strange infatuation of an otherwise sensible woman!
With the presence of Mr Inglethorp, a sense of constraint and veiled hostility seemed
to settle down upon the company. Miss Howard, in particular, took no pains to
conceal her feelings. Mrs Inglethorp, however, seemed to notice nothing unusual.
Her volubility, which I remembered of old, had lost nothing in the intervening years,
and she poured out a steady flood of conversation, mainly on the subject of the
forthcoming bazaar which she was organizing and which was to take place shortly.
Occasionally she referred to her hus-band over a question of days or dates. His
watchful and attentive manner never varied. From the very first I took a firm and
rooted dislike to him, and I flatter myself that my first judgement are usually fairly
shrewd.
Presently Mrs Inglethorp turned to give some instructions about letters to Evelyn
Howard, and her hus-band addressed me in his painstaking voice:
'Is soldiering your regular profession, Mr Hastings?'
'No, before the war I was in Lloyd’s.'
'And you will return there after it is over?'
'Perhaps. Either that of a fresh start altogether.'
Marry Cavendish leant forward.
'What would you really choose as a profession, if you could just consult
your inclination?'
'Well, that depends.'
'No secret hobby?’ she asked. 'Tell me--you're drawn to something? Everyone
is--usually something absurd.'
'You’ll laugh at me.'
She smiled.
'Perhaps.'
'Well, I've always had a secret hankering to be a detective?'
'The real thing--Scotland Yard? Or Sherlock Holmes?'
'Oh, Sherlock Holmes by all means. But really, seriously, I am awfully drawn to it.
I came across a man in Belgium once, a very famous detective, and he quite
inflamed me. He was a marvellous little fellow. He used to say that all good
detective work was a mere matter of method. My system is based on his--though
of course I have progressed rather further. He was a funny little man, a great dandy,
but wonderfully clever.'
'Like a good detective story my self, remarked Miss Howard. 'Lots of nonsense written,
though. Criminal discovered in last chapter. Every one dumbfounded. Real crime--
you’d know at once.'
'There have been a great number of undiscovered crimes,' I argued.
’Don't mean the police, but the people that are right in it. The family. You couldn't
really hoodwink them. They'd know.'
'Then,' I said, much amused, 'you think that if you were mixed up in a crime, say a
murder, you’d be able to spot the murderer right off?'
'Of course I should. Mightn't be able to prove it to a pack of lawyers. But I'm certain
I'd know. I'd feel it in my finger-tips if he came near me.'
'It might be a "she",' I suggested.
'Might. But murder's a violent crime. Associate it more with a man.'
'Not in a case of poisoning.' Mrs Cavendish's clear voice startled me. 'Dr Bauerstein was
saying yesterday that, owing to the general ignorance of the more uncommon poisons
among the medical profession, there were probably countless cases of poisoning quite
unsuspected.'