Читать «Загадочное происшествие в Стайлзе» онлайн - страница 6

[] She flung herself down on the ground beside John, and as I handed her a plate of sandwiches she smiled up at me.

[] "Sit down here on the grass, do. It's ever so much nicer."

[] I dropped down obediently.

[] "You work at Tadminster, don't you, Miss Murdoch?"

[] She nodded.

"For my sins."

[] "Do they bully you, then?" I asked, smiling.

[] "I should like to see them!" cried Cynthia with dignity.

[] "I have got a cousin who is nursing," I remarked. "And she is terrified of 'Sisters'."

[] "I don't wonder. Sisters *ARE, you know, Mr. Hastings. They simp-ly *ARE! You've no idea! But I'm not a nurse, thank heaven, I work in the dispensary."

[] "How many people do you poison?" I asked, smiling.

[] Cynthia smiled too.

"Oh, hundreds!" she said.

[] "Cynthia," called Mrs. Inglethorp, "do you think you could write a few notes for me?"

"Certainly, Aunt Emily."

[] She jumped up promptly, and something in her manner reminded me that her position was a dependent one, and that Mrs. Inglethorp, kind as she might be in the main, did not allow her to forget it.

[] My hostess turned to me.

[] "John will show you your room. Supper is at half-past seven. We have given up late dinner for some time now. Lady Tadminster, our Member's wife-she was the late Lord Abbotsbury's daughter-does the same. She agrees with me that one must set an example of economy. We are quite a war household; nothing is wasted here-every scrap of waste paper, even, is saved and sent away in sacks."

[] I expressed my appreciation, and John took me into the house and up the broad staircase, which forked right and left half-way to different wings of the building. My room was in the left wing, and looked out over the park.

[] John left me, and a few minutes later I saw him from my window walking slowly across the grass arm in arm with Cynthia Murdoch. I heard Mrs. Inglethorp call "Cynthia" impatiently, and the girl started and ran back to the house. At the same moment, a man stepped out from the shadow of a tree and walked slowly in the same direction. He looked about forty, very dark with a melancholy clean-shaven face. Some violent emotion seemed to be mastering him. He looked up at my window as he passed, and I recognized him, though he had changed much in the fifteen years that had elapsed since we last met. It was John's younger brother, Lawrence Cavendish. I wondered what it was that had brought that singular expression to his face.

[] Then I dismissed him from my mind, and returned to the contemplation of my own affairs.

[] The evening passed pleasantly enough; and I dreamed that night of that enigmatical woman, Mary Cavendish.

[] The next morning dawned bright and sunny, and I was full of the anticipation of a delightful visit.

[] I did not see Mrs. Cavendish until lunch-time, when she volunteered to take me for a walk, and we spent a charming afternoon roaming in the woods, returning to the house about five.