At a quarter to twelve the General's voice was once more to be heard in the hall, this time shouting or his wife. He and Camilla had just returned from their inspection of the litter of springer puppies, and, whether by her desire, or his, it had become necessary for her to take back to town with her some of his famous roses.
Fay, who had only just emerged from her bedroom, and was in consultation with Peckham upstairs, at once hurried down. "I'm here, Arthur," she said in her fluttering way.
"Oh, there you are! I want Camilla to have some roses to take home with her," decreed the General. "Tell Lester, will you? Where is the fellow? I thought I'd made it plain that I wanted the front lawn mowed this morning? I suppose you've taken him oil that job to do something for you that could quite well be done tomorrow. It's always the way! As soon as my back's turned —'
"I haven't told him to do anything," said Fay wearily. "I haven't even seen him."
"Then where the devil is he?" demanded the General balked. "I must say I do think you might see that the servants do their work when I'm out!"
"If you had told me, Arthur -"
"Oh, don't let's have any argument about it!" begged Sir Arthur. "Though I should have thought — However, doubtless I was wrong. Find out what the fellow's doing, and tell him to cut Mrs. Halliday a couple of dozen blooms."
"It's most awfully sweet of you," said Camilla. "I do hope it isn't any trouble?"
"'Trouble? Good gracious me, it's no trouble at all, my dear Camilla. It's a pleasure. Only wish the roses were more worthy of you!"
Camilla gave her empty little laugh, and said archly: "Now you're trying to flatter me, and I won't listen to a word you say! Thank you terribly, Fay — it is good of you to bother! I'll just run up and take my hat off."
The General watched her go up the stairs, and became aware of his wife, still standing beside him. Since his conscience pricked him slightly, he naturally felt annoyed with her for being there. "Well, don't hang about looking like seven bells half struck!" he said irritably. "You might at least try to behave pleasantly to your guests. And kindly understand that if anyone wants me before lunch I'm busy, and don't want to be disturbed. I've wasted quite enough of the morning as it is. Look at the time! Ten to twelve, and as far as I can make out you're only just up! I wonder what my mother would say if she were alive today and could see the way you modern women lie in bed till all hours!"
"Oh, don't, don't," Fay cried out suddenly, putting her hands to her head. "I can't bear it! You're driving me out of my mind, Arthur!"
The General stared after her, as she turned and hurried away towards the garden-hall. "More nerves!" he said, with a short laugh, and walked into his study, and shut the door loudly.
It was just as well that he did not know that Miss Fawcett, who had spent the morning "doing the flowers', had already robbed the rose-garden of its choicest blooms. Now, conscious of rectitude, she had joined Stephen Guest on the terrace, and subsided into a deep wicker-chair beside him.
"I call it more than a little sultry," she remarked. "No double entendre meant, I assure you. Does my nose want powdering?"
"It looks all right to me," said Guest, giving it his consideration.
"I mistrust your judgment profoundly," said Dinah. "However, I don't think I can be bothered to go upstairs. Though I have noticed that it's becoming quite the done thing in this house to make your face up in the full view of — Oh, hullo, Mrs. Halliday! How were the puppies?"
"Sweet," said Camilla. "I adored them. Don't say I've butted in on a tete-a-tete! Where's Basil?"
Stephen Guest, who had risen politely, looked vaguely round. "I don't know," he answered. "I think he went into the billiard-room. Shall I go and see?"
"Oh no, don't bother, thanks," said Camilla, seating herself. "We are a small party, aren't we? I always think the Monday after a weekend is frightfully depressing. don't you? I mean everybody leaving, or packing, or something. I suppose it's much too early for a cocktail?"
"It's about twelve," said Dinah, consulting her wristwatch.
This hardly seemed to be an adequate answer to the question. Camilla gave a short sigh, and said: "Oh, well!" and began to drum her fingers on the arm of her chair.
The arrival of Mrs. Twining, a few minutes later, rated a diversion. She came through the drawing room out on to the terrace, looking, as usual, cool, and perfectly dressed. "I told that inestimable Finch that I'd announce myself," she said. "Good morning, Mrs. Halliday. I have had to go to Silsbury, Dinah. Such a bore, but you see that is why I am so early. It did not seem to be worth while to go home again."
Dinah shook hands with her. "Won't you sit down? I think I saw Fay going towards the rose-garden a minute or two ago. I'll go and tell her you've arrived."
"Let us both go and tell her I have arrived," said Mrs. Twining. "I should like to see Arthur's new standards. Mine have not done at all well; I believe it is the soil."
"Do you really want to see rose trees?" Dinah asked bluntly, as they walked across the lawn to the yew hedge that shut off the rose-garden.
"Not in the least, my dear. I want you to tell me just what has happened today. There is that peculiar and plague-stricken quiet about the house that usually means that there has been a great deal of unpleasantness."
"Well, there has," admitted Dinah. "There's been a row with Fay, and then a sort of skirmish with me (but that was my doing), and then what sounded like a really super-row with Geoffrey. I don't know what happened exactly, but Francis said that Geoffrey was looking pretty sick."
"I always felt that Sunday's forced abstinence was putting too great a strain on Arthur," remarked Mrs. Twining thoughtfully. "Where is Geoffrey now?"
"Well, I don't really know. He was outside Lola's door at half past ten. He may be in her room. To tell you the truth, Mrs. Twining, I'm not awfully interested in his troubles, except when they affect Fay."
"Why should you be?" said Mrs. Twining. "I am sure I am not surprised. It was so extremely stupid of him to bring that remarkable young woman of his here. But I don't think we must let Arthur cast him on the world."
Dinah glanced curiously at her. "You're very fond of Geoffrey, aren't you?"
Mrs. Twining had stooped to smell a great crimson rose. "Too full-blown to pick. What a pity! No, my dear, I don't know that I should describe myself as being very fond of Geoffrey. I knew him when he was in his cradle, however, and I have always been sorry for the boy."
"Did you know his mother, Mrs. Twining?" asked Dinah. "I've often wondered."
Mrs. Twining put back a trailing rambler with her gloved hand. "Have you, my dear? Yes, I knew her quite well."
"What was she like? Arthur never mentions her, you know, and there isn't even a photograph."
"When Arthur puts people out of his life," said Mrs. Twining, with a faint smile, "he does it very thoroughly. She was generally thought to be pretty."
"I don't really blame her for leaving Arthur, but it was rather rotten of her to leave Geoffrey," reflected Dinah.
Mrs. Twining passed through the gap in the hedge again on to the lawn. "Yes, it was, as you say, rotten of her," she replied. "But whatever she did that was rotten, or foolish, she had to pay for. Tell me, is Arthur in, do you know?"
"Yes, I think he must be. Oh, there is Fay, coming away from the vegetable garden! Fa-ay!"
They waited for Fay to catch up with them. She gave her hand to Mrs. Twining, saying: "It's so nice of you to have come, Julia. Things are being — a little difficult. Perhaps if you spoke to him Arthur might listen."
"Listening is not his speciality, but I will try," promised Mrs. Twining. "Where is he?"
"Oh, it would never do if you disturbed him before lunch!" said Fay, looking quite flustered at the bare thought of such a thing. "He's writing letters in his study."
They ascended the steps on to the terrace. Stephen Guest pulled up a chair, his gaze on Fay's face. "Come and sit down," he said. "You look done up."
She pushed the hair away from her forehead. "I've got a headache. It's nothing." Her voice was forlorn; as she sat down she raised her eyes fleetingly to his, and he saw that they had filled with tears. She tried to smile, and said in a low, unsteady voice for his ears alone: "It's all right, Stephen. Really it's all right."
Mrs. Twining was talking in her pleasant way to Camilla Halliday; Dinah was wondering what had happened to Geoffrey and his Lola, when Finch came on to the terrace to tell Fay that Mrs. Chudleigh had called, and would like to see her.
"Oh dear!" said Fay involuntarily; then, recollecting herself, she added: "Ask her if she will come out on to the terrace, please."
"Blast and damn!" said Dinah. "What on earth can she want?"
"Dinah darling!" expostulated Fay.
"That's a lady who's mightily interested in other people's business," said Guest. "I can't say I like the type myself."
"She wants me to give a talk at the Women's Institute, said Fay. "I said I'd let her know, only I forgot."
"Mrs. Chudleigh!" announced Finch.
The Vicar's wife stepped briskly out on to the terrace. and sent one of her quick, peering glances round. She looked rather hot and more than a little crumpled in a tussore coat and skirt, and a burnt-straw hat of no particular shape; and she wore in addition to these garments a blue shirt blouse, dark brown shoes and stockings, and a pair of white wash-leather gloves. She shook hands with Fay, nodded to Mrs. Twining and to Dinah, and favoured Camilla with a stiff little bow. "I'm so sorry to come bothering you, Lady Billington-Smith, but you know I always say I do all my unpleasant tasks on a Monday! It is the Children's Holiday Fund, and I know you are always so good and generous in giving towards it."
"Don't you ever shirk your unpleasant tasks?" inquired Camilla, with an air of patronage amounting to insolence.
But Camilla was no match for the Vicar's wife. "No, Mrs. Halliday, never!" replied Mrs. Chudleigh in a steely voice. "I hope that I should never shirk jury duty, however unpleasant."
"God help us, we're for it again!" murmured Dinah to Stephen Guest.
Camilla was looking a little foolish, and had given a half-laugh, and shrugged her shoulders.
"Do come and sit down over here, Mrs. Chudleigh!" Fay intervened. "Of course my husband and I are only too glad to subscribe to the Fund."
Mrs. Chudleigh accepted the chair indicated, which was placed on the outskirts of the group, and said that she must not stop, for that would make her late for lunch. "And Hilary is so absent-minded that he would never think to begin without me," she said, her face softening as it always did when she spoke of her husband. "I really only came to beg, and to ask you whether you are going lo address us on Friday? You said you might give the Women a little talk on Gardens, and I'm sure it would be much appreciated. Only when you did not let me know," she added with a significant look, "I wondered whether perhaps you have rather too much on your hands just now?"
Fay coloured. "No, I should be pleased to speak, if you think it would interest the Club. But you know I'm not very good at giving lectures."
"Then we shall consider that settled," said Mrs. Chudleigh, ignoring the last part of this speech. "I see you still have some of your guests remaining with you. You will be glad, I expect, to have the house to yourself again. If you will allow me to say so, you are not looking at all the thing, Lady Billington-Smith."
"I have a slight headache," acknowledged Fay. "The week-end has been a little trying, as I'm afraid you were made to realise on Saturday."
"That dreadful young woman!" Mrs. Chudleigh said, drawing in her breath sharply. "I assure you I felt for you. A very difficult situation to deal with. I take the greatest interest in every member of Hilary's Parish, high or low, and I have been most distressed to think of Geoffrey, who is such a nice boy, being caught by — really, I must say an adventuress! But you know, Lady Billington-Smith, young people, and especially what I call highly-strung young people, sometimes need very careful handling. You must forgive me, but from what Sir Arthur said at the dinner-table I gathered that he was very much enraged."
"Yes," Fay said, helpless under this flood of words. "My husband is very angry indeed."
Mrs. Chudleigh shifted her chair rather closer. "How very unfortunate! I was afraid it must be so. I suppose there is no truth in the story that is going round the village that it has actually come to an open breach?"
Fay's heart sank. She said rather feebly: "I can't imagine how such a story could have got about."
"You know what servants are," replied Mrs. Chudleigh darkly.
"Always ready to gossip! The baker's man told my cook that your kitchen-maid had told him that the General had quarrelled violently with Geoffrey this morning. Of course, personally, I never pay any heed to what servants say, but I feel I know you so well, Lady Billington-Smith, that it is really my duty to let you know what is being said. And if there is no truth in it, I shall be only too glad to contradict the story whenever I hear it."
A nerve in Fay's head was throbbing unbearably. She got up. "Mrs. Chudleigh, I'm afraid I can't discuss the matter with you. Geoffrey has very seriously angered his father. I don't know what is going to come of it, so I'm not in a position to tell you anything. You must forgive me if I seem rude, but I — I am a little upset."
Dinah, obedient to a signal from Stephen Guest, who had been watching Fay with a troubled frown, turned her head, saw her sister's look of exhaustion, and promptly went to the rescue. "What is this club that Fay's going to lecture to, Mrs. Chudleigh?" she inquired, sitting down in Fay's vacated chair. "I'd no idea she could lecture!"
She listened to Mrs. Chudleigh's explanation with an air of intelligent interest, and heard not one word of it. Basil Halliday had just come out of the billiard-room, and was approaching the group with his hands thrust into his coat pockets, and his lined face rather pale and so. He jerked a bow to Mrs. Twining, and sat down near to her. Dinah saw him look at his wife for an instant, and then away again.
"I wondered what had become of you," Camilla remarked.
"I've been indoors," he said curtly.
Heavens, what a party! thought Dinah. It only needs Geoffrey doing his highly-strung act to make it complete. Even Lola would be a relief.
Stephen Guest was feeling in his pockets. Halliday said mechanically: "Tobacco? I've got some."
Guest got up, shaking his head. "Thanks, I think I'll fetch my own, if you don't mind." He went into the house, and Dinah thought, with an inward grin: Getting too much for poor old Stephen; really, it's more like a home for mental cases than a house-party.
Mrs. Chudleigh's voice recalled her wandering attention. "Your sister looks far from well, Miss Fawcett."
"Anyone who had to live with my brother-in-law would look far from well," said Dinah with incorrigible outspokenness.
"The General is not an easy man to manage, of course. Naturally we all know that. I am afraid this distressing affair of Geoffrey's has been too much for your sister."
"Well," said Dinah, of intent, "it's a fairly rotten position for her, isn't it? Geoffrey isn't her son, and she can't do anything to stop Arthur disowning him, and everybody who doesn't know her — not people like you, of course — will at once think that she's been doing the wicked stepmother."
"It is a pity," said Mrs. Chudleigh, "that Lady Billington-Smith is so much younger than the General."
"I entirely agree with you," said Dinah cordially.
Mrs. Chudleigh folded her lips in a rigid line, and rose. Fay, observing her, said: "Oh, must you go, Mrs. Chudleigh? Won't you stay and join us in a cocktail?"
"Thank you, I never touch anything before dinnertime, and then very rarely," replied Mrs. Chudleigh forbiddingly. "Now please do not dream of coming with me! Perhaps you will send me your subscription to the Fund, for I should not think of troubling you to give it to me when you are busy entertaining your guests. Dear me, it is actually half past twelve already! I must indeed hurry if I am not to keep Hilary waiting. Really, there is no need for you to go with me, Lady Billington-Smith. I will take the garden way, if I may, and that will save going through the house. Good-bye, I hope your headache will be better soon — though I do not think that I should recommend cocktails as a cure!" She smiled rather acidly, bowed to the rest of the company, and went off down the steps to the lawn, and across it to the path that led to the drive.
Camilla Halliday barely waited until she was out of hearing before she said: "For this relief much thanks"! I'm sorry for poor old Hilary."
Mrs. Twining looked her over. "You need not be," she said calmly. "Emmy Chudleigh is entirely devoted to her husband."
Camilla reddened angrily under this second snub she had received in less than half an hour. Luckily Finch came on to the terrace at that moment with a tray of cocktails, which diverted her attention. Mrs. Twining, having disposed of Camilla to her satisfaction, turned to Basil Halliday, and in the blandest manner started to talk to him. Fay lay back in her chair with her eyes half shut, and Dinah, feeling that Camilla had been harshly, though justly, used, asked her how she managed to tan so evenly. This being a conversational gambit after Camilla's own heart, she at once revived, and became most voluble. Within the space of ten crowded minutes Dinah learned just how one could acquire that particular shade of golden-brown so much admired; what oil to use, and what to avoid; how one sunbathed on the Riviera; and which shade of lipstick one ought to use when the tanning process was completed.
Then Stephen Guest reappeared, and Camilla at once transferred her attention to him. "You're very nearly too late for a cocktail!" she said. "Come and sit down beside me. Are you going on the three-ten like us, or are you one of the idle rich, with a car?"
"No, I don't run a car," he replied. "I shall be on the train all right." He stretched out his hand towards the table and picked up his glass.
"Hullo, have you cut yourself?" inquired Halliday, leaning forward in his chair.
Guest glanced quickly down at his hand. There was a smear of blood on his shirt-cuff. "Yes," he replied. "That's what kept me. I was opening one of those darned tobacco tins. I got the lid stuck, and like a fool tried to tear the tol off."
"Oh, I know! aren't they awful?" said Camilla. "You mean the sort you have to twist round, to cut that stupid tin-stuff? Have you put anything on it? You ought to paint it with iodine, you know. I have a friend who got a septic hand through just that sort of thing. Do let me look at it!"
"It's nothing," Guest said, pulling down his cuff.
Fay had opened her eyes. "Stephen, have you really hurt yourself? Do please put something on it! Let me see!
Guest drank his cocktail and set the glass down again. "Shucks, Fay! as we say out west. It's only a scratch."
Mrs. Twining glanced at her watch. "Fay, my dear, it is very nearly one o'clock, and high time Arthur was made to emerge from his monk-like seclusion. I will take my courage in both hands and beard him in his den." She rose as she spoke, smiled reassuringly at Fay's doubtful look, and went into the house.
Stephen Guest moved over to a chair beside Dinah. "I gather she means to try her hand on Arthur?" he said in an undertone.
"Yes, that's why she came," Dinah replied. "Heroic attempt, but I don't myself think she'll get much change out of him."
"No, I should say she wouldn't," said Guest in his deliberate way.
Mrs. Twining was not absent for long. In little more than five minutes she had returned, and stood in the window, very white and breathing unevenly. "Fay… Mr. Guest… !"
Guest got up quickly, looking at her with narrowed ryes. "Is anything the matter, Mrs. Twining? You look kind of queer."
"Yes," she said faintly. "I feel — a little sick. Arthur… I went into the study… Arthur is there — dead."
"Dead?" The shocked cry came from Fay.
Mrs. Twining moistened her lips. "Murdered!" she said. She took a step forward, putting out her hand to grasp a chair back, and they saw that her glove was wet with blood.