Inspector Furnival's Most Mysterious Cases. Annie Haynes

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ profession for that. When I have finished the necessary improvements, I must look about for a suitable tenant, or dispose of it in some way. Perhaps"—with a little laugh in which only Judith's quick ear detected any bitterness—"I may give it to Peggy for a wedding present."

      "Nonsense!" Sir Anthony tore the greater part of his correspondence across and threw it into the wastepaper basket. "Nonsense, my dear fellow. You will have to settle down yourself and receive our wedding presents instead. I used to think—"

      He was interrupted. Jenkins opened the door and announced Lady Palmer. That lady fluttered in with outstretched hands, and her pretty uncertain smile.

      "You must not blame Jenkins, dear Lady Carew. I insisted on being shown in to you at once. I have just heard this delightful news from Alethea, and I felt I must come over at once and offer my congratulations."

      Judith submitted with as good a grace as she could to the little airy touch on her cheek which passed for a kiss. Sir Anthony frowned.

      "Alethea has been in a hurry," he said shortly. "I have not given my consent yet, and I am Peggy's guardian conjointly with her mother, a fact Alethea seems to forget."

      "Oh, I am sure she doesn't. Only you couldn't but approve of this marriage," Lady Palmer rejoined with a deprecating smile. "Lord Chesterham is a great parti. He is the most perfectly charming man, besides being enormously rich, and his title is among the oldest in the country. Our little Peggy will be a very great lady, the envy of all her contemporaries."

      "Will she indeed?" Sir Anthony questioned ironically. "I suppose the fact that Lord Chesterham is three times her age, and that he bears a bad reputation will not be taken into consideration."

      Lady Palmer opened her great dark eyes to their fullest extent. "Dear Anthony, what does age matter? If Peggy is willing to overlook the little disparity, certainly it does not seem to me that it matters to anyone else. As to Lord Chesterham's reputation, well, you must not rake up old scandals. And now I must confess I had another, a selfish reason, for coming over this morning. I have had a letter to say that some of my jewels—the sapphires poor dear Palmer gave me on my first birthday after our marriage—were heirlooms. Now I know—"

      "But, my dear Sybil, I have heard from Spencer, and he says—" Sir, Anthony drew her outside on the terrace.

      Judith glanced at Stephen Crasster. In the clear morning light his pleasant dark face looked worn a little weary. He laughed a trifle cynically as he looked after the two on the terrace.

      "I fancy the trustees will have some difficulty in persuading Lady Palmer to part with the sapphires," he remarked caustically.

      "I dare say they will," Judith assented absently. She was trying to screw up her courage to question Crasster about the flat tragedy; probably she would never have a more favourable opportunity. "Have you been very busy lately?" she asked tentatively. "I saw in the paper that that case you were interested in, when some one was shot in a flat, had come to an end."

      There was a pause. Stephen's eyes were still fixed on Sir Anthony and his cousin as they strolled up and down on the terrace. The echo of Anthony's remonstrances, of Lady Palmer's exclamations, could be heard plainly in the breakfast-room.

      "Yes," he said slowly at last. "The inquest is finished, anyhow; so one stage is over."

      "One, stage!" Judith repeated blankly. "But I thought it said the police had no clue—that they had given up the case. I fancied it was all over."

      Stephen smiled. "Furnival is not so easily beaten. It was no use adjourning the inquest again. But nothing would surprise me more than to hear that he had given up the case. I happen to know that it excited his interest enormously; there were so many curious points about it."

      "Were there?" Judith said faintly. She had sat down again in her place behind the tea-urn. She was touching the cups aimlessly. "Won't you have some tea or coffee, Mr. Crasster? I fear in our excitement over this morning's news I must have appeared very inhospitable."

      "I think I will have a cup of coffee, thanks." Crasster followed and took a seat near her at the table. "I believe Furnival feels sure that the capture of the real criminal in the flat case is only a matter of time," he went on after a minute or two. "With all the clues the police have at their disposal it is hardly possible the criminal should escape."

      Chapter XI

       Table of Contents

      "I thought Anthony would be pleased," Peggy said wistfully.

      She and Stephen Crasster were standing on a wide grassy path that ran down the centre of the rosery at Heron's Carew. All round them was a wealth of roses, great climbing gloire de Dijons, crimson ramblers, pink and crimson ramblers, golden glowing William Allan Richardson. Peggy, in her white gown, with her big dewy eyes, her exquisite pink and white skin, her soft red lips, looked the fairest rose of them all, the man thought, gazing at her with a very human longing in his kind eyes.

      "Up in London everybody was so kind about it. And now—now I have come home it is all different. Anthony is quite unkind; he says Lorrimer is too old, and that he doesn't like him for other reasons. And Judith—well, Judith doesn't say much, but she looks white and—and disapproving. It is all very miserable."

      Crasster took the girl's hand in his. "Anthony is naturally very anxious for his little sister's happiness."

      Peggy's soft fingers clung to his; her pretty lips quivered. "Tell me, you are glad, aren't you, Stephen?"

      Glad! For one moment the man caught his breath. A red mist rose before his eyes. He thought of what had been, of what he had hoped would be, then with a supreme effort he recovered his self-control.

      "Of course I am glad, Peggy," he said softly. "If you are happy, that is all I ask. Are you, Peggy?"

      "Very—very happy!" the girl whispered, her cheeks flushing hotly.

      "Then I am very, very glad, Peggy." With all his might the man was battling down the mad temptation that bade him take the girl in his arms, tell her that the love that had never failed in all her bright youth was hers now; would be hers for ever.

      Peggy looked up at him with grateful, humid eyes. "Oh, you never disappoint me, Stephen. One is always sure of your sympathy."

      Crasster smiled a little sadly. "You will not need my sympathy much longer, Peggy. You will have Lord Chesterham's." His voice changing in spite of his efforts, as he spoke his successful rival's name.

      "Oh, but I shall—I shall always need every bit of your sympathy." Peggy had dropped his hand now; she tucked her arm within his in the old playful confiding fashion, and drew him on with her. "I don't think that being happy," with a deepening of colour, "ought to make one forgetful of other people."

      Stephen could not forbear a grim smile.

      "Oh, what a child you are still, Peggy," he said involuntarily.

      The girl pouted. "You are not to say that. Please to remember that I was eighteen last month; Lorrimer is always forgetting, and you are almost as bad. But come, they are taking tea out, and I am simply dying for some. What is wrong with"—lowering her voice—"Stephen Anthony and Judith?"

      "Wrong with СКАЧАТЬ