helps it out: you can express so much by singing. You are so lucky there. I am bound to say I had qualms when Peppino—or was it Georgie—suggested we should do Brunnhilde-Siegfried. I said it would be so terribly difficult. Slow: it has to be slow, and to keep gestures slow when you cannot make them mere illustrations of what you are singing—well, I am sure, it is very kind of you to be so flattering about it—but it is difficult to do that.”
“And you thought them all out for yourself?” said Olga. “Marvellous!”
“Ah, if I had ever seen you do it,” said Lucia, “I am sure I should have picked up some hints! And King Cophetua! Won’t you give me a little word for our dear King Cophetua? I was so glad after the strain of Brunnhilde to have my back to the audience. Even then there is the difficulty of keeping quite still, but I am sure you know that quite as well as I do, from having played Brunnhilde yourself. Georgie was very much impressed by your performance of it. And Mary Queen of Scots now! The shrinking of the flesh, and the resignation of the spirit! That is what I tried to express. You must come and help me next time I attempt this sort of thing again. That will not be quite soon, I am afraid, for Peppino and I am thinking of going to the Riviera for a little holiday.”
“Oh, but how selfish!” said Olga. “You mustn’t do that.”
Lucia gave the silvery laugh.
“You are all very tiresome about my going to the Riviera,” she said. “But I don’t promise that I shall give it up yet. We shall see! Gracious! How late it is. We must have sat very late over dinner. Why were you not asked to dinner, I wonder! I shall scold Georgie for not asking you. Ah, there is dear Mrs Weston going away. I must say good-night to her. She would think it very strange if I did not. Colonel Boucher, too! Oh, they are coming this way to save us the trouble of moving.”
A general move was certainly taking place, not in the direction of the door, but to where Olga and Lucia were sitting.
“It’s snowing,” said Piggy excitedly to Olga. “Will you mark my footsteps well, my page?”
“Piggy, you—you Goosie,” said Olga hurriedly. “Goosie, weren’t the tableaux lovely?”
“And the carols,” said Goosie. “I adored the carols. I guessed. Did you guess, Mrs Lucas?”
Olga resorted to the mean trick of treading on Goosie’s foot and apologising. That was cowardly because it was sure to come out sometime. And Goosie again trod on dangerous ground by saying that if the Page had trod like that, there was no need for any footsteps to be marked for him.
It was snowing fast, and Mrs Weston’s wheels left a deep track, but in spite of that, Daisy and Robert had not gone fifty yards from the door when they came to a full stop.
“Now, what is it?” said Daisy. “Out with it. Why did you talk about the discovery of muslin?”
“I only said that we were fortunate in a medium whom after all you picked up at a vegetarian restaurant,” said he. “I suppose I may indulge in general conversation. If it comes to that, why did you talk about exposure in the papers?”
“General conversation,” said Mrs Quantock all in one word. “So that’s all, is it?”
“Yes,” said Robert, “you may know something, and—”
“Now don’t put it all on me,” said Daisy. “If you want to know what I think, it is that you’ve got some secret.”
“And if you want to know what I think,” he retorted, “it is that I know you have.”
Daisy hesitated a moment, the snow was white on her shoulder and she shook her cloak.
“I hate concealment,” she said. “I found yards and yards of muslin and a pair of Amadeo’s eyebrows in that woman’s bedroom the very day she went away.”
“And she was fined last Thursday for holding a seance at which a detective was present,” said Robert. “15 Gerard Street. He seized Amadeo or Cardinal Newman by the throat, and it was that woman.”
She looked hastily round.
“When you thought that the chimney was on fire, I was burning muslin,” she said.
“When you thought the chimney was on fire, I was burning every copy of Todd’s News,” said he. “Also a copy of the Daily Mirror, which contained the case. It belonged to the Colonel. I stole it.”
She put her hand through his arm.
“Let’s get home,” she said. “We must talk it over. No one knows one word except you and me?”
“Not one, my dear,” said Robert cordially. “But there are suspicions. Georgie suspects, for instance. He saw me buy all the copies of Todd’s News, at least he was hanging about. Tonight he was clearly on the track of something, though he gave us a very tolerable dinner.”
They went into Robert’s study: it was cold, but neither felt it, for they glowed with excitement and enterprise.
“That was a wonderful stroke of yours, Robert,” said she. “It was masterly: it saved the situation. The Daily Mirror, too: how right you were to steal it. A horrid paper I always thought. Yes, Georgie suspects something, but luckily he doesn’t know what he suspects.”
“That’s why we both said we had just heard from that woman,” said Robert.
“Of course. You haven’t got a copy of Todd’s News, have you?”
“No: at least I burned every page of the police reports,” said he. “It was safer.”
“Quite so. I cannot show you Amadeo’s eyebrows for the same reason. Nor the muslin. Lovely muslin, my dear: yards of it. Now what we must do is this: we must continue to be interested in psychical things; we mustn’t drop them, or seem to be put off them. I wish now I had taken you into my confidence at the beginning and told you about Amadeo’s eyebrows.”
“My dear, you acted for the best,” said he. “So did I when I didn’t tell you about Todd’s News. Secrecy even from each other was more prudent, until it became impossible. And I think we should be wise to let it be understood that we hear from the Princess now and then. Perhaps in a few months she might even visit us again. It—it would be humorous to be behind the scenes, so to speak, and observe the credulity of the others.”
Daisy broke into a broad grin.
“I will certainly ask dear Lucia to a seance, if we do,” she said. “Dear me! How late it is: there was such a long wait between the tableaux. But we must keep our eyes on Georgie, and be careful how we answer his impertinent questions. He is sure to ask some. About getting that woman down again, Robert. It might be fool-hardy, for we’ve had an escape, and shouldn’t put our heads into the same noose again. On the other hand, it would disarm suspicion for ever, if, after a few months, I asked her to spend a few days of holiday here. You said it was a fine only, not imprisonment?”
The week was a busy one: Georgie in particular never had a moment to himself. The Hurst, so lately a desert, suddenly began to rejoice with joy and singing and broke out into all manner of edifying gaieties. Lucia, capricious queen, quite forgot all the vitriolic things she had said to him, and gave him to understand that he was just as high in favour as ever before, and he was as busy with his duties
