This she refused to do, although a deputation, made up of first years, second years and third years, waited upon her with eloquence, great respect and some special pleading.
‘I am sorry, students,’ she said, when she had listened patiently to all their arguments, ‘but it will be past midnight by the time you get to your beds, and some of you are catching the seven-thirty train on the morrow. It isn’t fair on the servants.’
This ‘time-honoured gag,’ as the disgusted Laura put it, clinched all arguments, and the deputation, completely deflated, filed out.
The next petitioner was Mrs Bradley, but upon a different matter.
‘I want you to allow me, Miss du Mugne,’ she said, ‘as part of my attempt to account for Miss Murchan’s disappearance, to supply the College with a band of Thugs. For one night only,’ she added; and proceeded to supply footnotes. The Principal, without relish — in fact, with complete and awful disapproval — listened carefully to Mrs Bradley’s plans, and, against her will, agreed to them.
‘ “Now it is the time of night”,’ observed Laura, gazing critically at herself in the mirror, ‘ “that the graves, all gaping wide…” Kitty, lovey, do up my zip, would you? If I bend, be it never so slightly, I can’t get it to do its stuff. I seem to have put on flesh since I came to this glory hole.’
‘And then,’ said Kitty, ‘I’d better just re-arrange your hair. I told you to be careful of it when you put your dress on, and you haven’t been careful. You’ve completely mussed it up.’
She had been, needless to say, hairdresser in chief, not only to her two comrades, but to half of Athelstan. All those, as Laura observed, who had one lock of hair to lay beside another, had clamoured for her skilful ministrations. Kitty had responded nobly, and the Athelstan contingent formed ‘a bevy of fashion and beauty unequalled in the annals of the College,’ as Laura announced with pride, surveying the happy faces and ‘gala get-up’ — her phrase again — of the young girls ‘ere Time’s fell hand had touched them.’
‘You seem in form tonight,’ observed Miss Cartwright, who had attempted sophistication in a scarlet frock and a good deal of rouge, and was not too certain whether the end justified the means.
‘Wait till you see the Warden,’ said Laura mysteriously.
‘I’ve seen the Deb, and I must say she looks too beautiful for a wicked world,’ said Miss Cartwright. ‘In fact, she makes me look quite Tottenham Court Road, and I rather relished the look of myself before.’
Kitty had waylaid Deborah on the previous afternoon.
‘You’ve had it set,’ she said, without preamble.
‘Yes,’ said Deborah nervously, conscious of a professional eye upon her coiffure.
‘You come to me an hour before tea tomorrow,’ said Kitty. ‘It isn’t bad. I’ll be able to do something there.’
Deborah had laughed, but, in the end, was compelled to promise. But Kitty’s great triumph was to come. Mrs Bradley, who had something to talk over with Miss Topas, dressed early, in an orange and royal blue evening frock which was then in its fourth season, and encountered Kitty, who was on her way to the bathroom, as she herself was about to descend the stairs.
Kitty’s jaw dropped; her eyes opened wide. She made odd, gurgling noises. Mrs Bradley halted.
‘Goodness me, Miss Trevelyan!’ she said. ‘Are you ill, child?’
‘Well, you might call it that, Warden,’ replied the sufferer.
‘But what is the matter, my poor dear?’
‘Warden,’ said Kitty, with the desperate honesty of the artist, ‘you can’t go over to College looking like that.’
It was a statement which many of Mrs Bradley’s relatives, notably her sister-in-law, Lady Selina, and her nephew’s wife, Jenny Lestrange, would have given much for the courage to make.
‘Why, what’s the matter with it?’ asked the head of the house, genuinely surprised by the passionate outburst.
‘Well, nothing, of course, Warden. It’s like my cheek… only, haven’t you got something…?’
‘Come and rummage,’ said Mrs Bradley, grinning. ‘But I mustn’t be long. I’ve got to see Miss Topas before the dance begins.’
Kitty accepted the invitation with alacrity, but, confronting the contents of Mrs Bradley’s wardrobe, her face fell.
‘No?’ said the Warden, in Kitty’s opinion unnecessarily and wrong-headedly amused by the proceedings.
‘I might do something if you’d let me put on a touch of Miss Cartwright’s rouge. It’s perfectly horrible on her — wrong shade altogether — but it would make this dress quite wearable on you. It’s a lovely frock…’ She took it down, and, laying it on the bed, brooded over it, and then looked critically at Mrs Bradley’s raven hair, black eyes and yellow countenance.
‘Don’t mind me,’ said the Warden; but she herself was surprised at the result, especially of a skilful and artful application of Miss Cartwright’s rouge. ‘Dear me, I don’t think I’ve seen myself like this for thirty years.’
Kitty hung up the discarded blue and orange in the wardrobe.
‘Well, you see, you’ve got the bones all right,’ she said. ‘And your hair — not a touch of grey. And that frock, now, with the rouge, and your shoes are nice. I wish I could afford expensive shoes.’
Mrs Bradley kissed her — a brush against the smooth, young, earnest brow.
‘It’s kind of you to take the trouble, my dear,’ she said, and laughed again. ‘Has Miss Cloud…?’
‘Oh, the Deb’s a beauty… really a beauty,’ said Kitty. ‘Even at that ghastly little hairdresser’s she goes to they can’t really do much to muck her up. Of course, I took out their wave and re-set it… Well, I had better have my bath, I think, or Dog will be yelling her head off.’
Mrs Bradley gazed after her, still struggling with laughter, but when she saw Deborah she did not laugh; she moaned (to Deborah’s discomfiture) with appreciation of her loveliness.
‘You know,’ she said, holding Deborah off and looking her up and down, ‘we shall have to make sure that that child doesn’t waste her time teaching. Even the mouse-like Alice looks almost pretty tonight.’
Deborah looked at her suspiciously.
‘You’re up to something,’ she said.
‘I have been up to something,’ Mrs Bradley corrected her. ‘I have had Miss Cornflake put under guard.’
‘Arrested, do you mean?’
‘Not arrested, exactly; rather, illegally detained. Miss Topas, Miss Cartwright, Miss Menzies and Miss Boorman assisting, George and I have locked her up in the cellar of the chief engineer’s house, where George and the chief engineer are mounting guard until midnight.’
‘But won’t there be trouble about it?’
‘No. She thinks it is an Athelstan rag. George, Miss Topas and I did not appear. We merely made the plans to incarcerate her, and arranged for the necessary transport.’
‘But what on earth was your object in preventing her from going to the dance?’
‘I want to solve a mystery or two, and I want to be certain, for her own sake, that she is out of the way.’
‘Do you really suspect her of the murders?’
‘I don’t suspect her because I don’t know as much yet as I should like to. She may be as innocent as Miss Murchan was. And that, I may as well inform you, is a double-edged statement. But if she is innocent, it is as well to keep her safe and sound. Or don’t you think so?’
‘I think it’s a good thing you are friends with the police,’ said Deborah. ‘And what on earth will the Principal say? All the same, if you want any assistance in solving your mysteries…’
‘No, thank you, not from you. The inspector is coming to help me. He is bringing the sergeant and the police doctor, so I shall be perfectly safe.’
‘Can’t you tell me what you are going to do?’ asked Deborah, looking anxious.
‘I had better not, child. The very walls have ears.’
‘That’s not the reason. But I can see you’ve made up yo
ur mind to be obstinate.’
‘I’ve made up my mind I shall be late in meeting Miss Topas,’ said Mrs Bradley.
The dance was mildly entertaining, Deborah thought. The students were enjoying themselves. She herself, although she did not know it, filled Alice’s cup to overflowing by sitting next her at supper. Laura made a speech, and the Principal, at half past ten, ‘saw the light,’ as Laura insisted, and permitted announcement to be made of her permission for an extension to eleven-thirty. The students applauded. Miss Topas, dancing (very badly) with a clumsy-looking One-Year from her own Hall thought: ‘Oh, so she hasn’t found it.’ Mrs Bradley had withdrawn from the College Hall at half past eight as unobtrusively as she could, but the majority of the Athelstan students missed her before nine o’clock, and asked Deborah whether she was ‘all right’.
Deborah reassured them, but felt anxious, as the young are apt to do when they feel responsible for the safety and well-being of the elderly. She said to Miss Topas, when they met in a Paul Jones: ‘What’s she up to?’
Miss Topas replied irritatingly: ‘Elle cherche la femme,’ and grinned. Deborah scowled at her. ‘No, really, it’s completely hush-hush,’ Miss Topas continued.
‘Come into the staff-room and tell me, while I tidy my hair.’
‘Nothing doing. Oh, Lord. The merry-go-round again! See you later!’ And they separated into their respective circles.
She dodged Deborah the next time their orbits intersected in the dance, and seized a fat student from Bede. Deborah grimaced at her, but was almost swept off her feet by a muscular captain of hockey, who gripped her purposefully and swung her relentlessly into a polka which the orchestra, with what Deborah could only classify as a misplaced sense of fun, had suddenly introduced instead of the waltzes and fox trots with which the Paul Jones had, so far, got along so nicely. The muscular student then took Deborah out to the buffet for an ice, and when they returned to the dancing floor Miss Topas had disappeared. She reappeared again in the doorway at twenty-five past ten and went across to speak to the Principal. At half past ten the announcement was made of the ‘first extension night in the long and glorious history of the College’ (Laura).
Deborah buttonholed Miss Topas.
‘What’s been happening? What’s come over Miss du Mugne? The Second-Years say she never extends the time.’
Miss Topas, who was looking pleased with herself, said brightly: ‘Nothing. Come over to Columba with me for a drink.’
‘On condition you tell me what has been happening,’ said Deborah. Miss Topas took her arm and pulled her gently out into the passage.
‘I’ve been to take some nourishment to the Athelstan prisoner,’ she said. ‘It’s cold across the grounds. The wind’s changed. It’s in the east. Put your coat on, and tie something over your hair.’
‘The Athelstan prisoner? What are you talking about?’
‘Nothing. I’m merely babbling. Come on! What a time you take!’
It was dark, as well as cold, across the grounds, and seemed a good step from the College to Columba. There was a light, however, in the window of Miss Topas’s sitting-room, which seemed to beckon and welcome, and Miss Topas had her latch-key and opened the front door wide.
‘Come on. Don’t stop to wipe your feet,’ she said in a voice in which Deborah recognized excitement.
Miss Topas switched on the light in the passage, shut the front door and led the way to her sitting-room. A man rose from her most comfortable arm-chair as they went in.
‘Hullo, Deborah,’ he said. ‘Aunt Adela sent for me, and told me to fetch up here.’
‘Hullo, Jonathan! Whatever you’re doing here, or think you’re doing, I don’t see why you have to explain yourself,’ Deborah said, with a laugh to hide the fact that she was blushing.
‘I’ll go and get the drinks,’ said Miss Topas, going on the instant, and closing the door behind her.
‘Sit down, Deborah. Or, rather, don’t. At least, not yet,’ said Jonathan, advancing.
Before Deborah could avoid it, he had taken her in his arms, and, with a most disconcerting amount of enterprise, swinging her slightly sideways, so that her head was firmly against his upper arm, he kissed her with an enthusiasm which caused Miss Topas, coming in with the tray of drinks, to click her tongue regretfully and to observe that her sitting-room was not a film studio. She then put down the tray, seized Deborah (who seemed uncertain whether to launch an attack upon the intrepid wooer or whether to cry) and embraced her more gently and a good deal less disturbingly than she had been embraced by the ardent young man.
This action decided Deborah. She made a dash for the door, tore out, and they could hear her running up the stairs.
‘A bit precipitate, weren’t you?’ said Miss Topas. ‘Say when.’
‘Make it a good one,’ the young man responded. ‘I’ve been obeying orders, that is all.’
‘Whose?’
‘Aunt Adela’s. She told me she wanted Deborah in the family — Oh, I say, when!’
‘There you are, then. And did your Aunt Adela advise you on procedure?’
‘Well, no. But I’ve wanted to do that to Deborah since that week-end — you remember? — at Carey’s. Anyway, I seem to have mucked it. Do you suppose I’ve put her off for good? She wouldn’t agree to marry me when we were there, so I thought I’d try other methods.’
‘Well, you’d better not have more than one drink. Women don’t like being made love to by a stink of whisky. You drink that, and make it last, and I’ll go up and bring her down again. And you’d better be a little more gentle. Deborah’s not a Rugby football player, you know. She’s nervous and highly strung, and all those other things that you’ve probably previously connected only with racehorses and prize pumpkins.’
With this delicate admonition, she went upstairs to her bedroom. Deborah was seated in front of the dressing-table tidying her hair. Her hands were shaking.
‘Let me,’ said Miss Topas; but instead of taking the comb she took Deborah by the shoulders, held her firmly for a minute and then said: ‘Well, and do you want him?’
‘Of course I want him,’ said Deborah.
‘Come on down, then, and say so.’
‘I can’t meet him again tonight’
‘Rot. Don’t be girlish.’
‘I can’t go down there. Tell him — tell him — ’
‘Tell him yourself. Come on. Don’t be a coward.’
‘I’m not. You don’t — Look here, why did you ask him to come here tonight?’
Miss Topas laughed, and made for the door.
‘There’s nobody at home to make scandal. I’ll send him up,’ she said.
Deborah tried to detain her, failed, and, mistrustful of her sense of humour, followed. She found Jonathan alone. He was seated on the settee, staring gloomily at his whisky, which he had not touched. He put it down and stood up when she came in.
Deborah backed away, but heard the key turn in the lock behind her. Miss Topas was taking no chances of her match-making going astray.
‘Deborah,’ said Jonathan. ‘Look here, come and sit down. No, honestly, I won’t do it again. At least, I won’t do it without warning you! I’m sorry I rushed at you like that. Silly to frighten you, but my courage failed me. I say, Deborah, you will marry me, won’t you?’
‘But, it’s so silly! I hardly know you. In fact, I don’t know you at all!’
‘Yes, you do. What about that Saturday afternoon at half-term? What about the Monday? Besides, you know my aunt, and what could be more respectable than that? You like Aunt Adela, don’t you?’
‘I love her. She’s been a darling, but…’
‘Well, you could love me, too. It’s perfectly easy. My parents have managed it for years, and they’re not terribly talented. And I’m more of a darling than Aunt Adela. And if you know her, you know me. We’re exactly alike. The same noble, generous natures; the same acute psychological insight, the same brains, the same brawn…’
‘Yes, you’
ve got the same brawn,’ admitted Deborah, beginning to laugh. ‘But she hasn’t your amount of classic impudence!’
‘Hasn’t she?’ said the young man. ‘Look here, giving you due warning, I am about to repeat my effects, after which, I will tell you just how much classic impudence my aunt has got! Ready?’
‘No!’ said Deborah, putting up an ineffective hand. The young man removed it.
‘What are you afraid of? Not of me,’ he said gently. ‘Come on! Don’t be a chump. It only messes your hair up when we fight, and I like it best as it is.’
Whilst these preparations were being made to enlarge her already wide circle of relatives, Mrs Bradley was putting in some grim work, with the assistance of George and the policemen. Athelstan was empty of servants, for all were helping over at the College, with permission to watch or join in the dancing. Mrs Bradley had decided to put this clear field to the test. Did it, or did it not, she inquired of the police, conceal the body of Miss Murchan?
Having put in her brief appearance at the dance, she returned to the house to meet the inspector, and, having changed from the garment of Kitty’s choosing into workaday clothes, she and the inspector commenced the search.
By a quarter-past ten nothing had been discovered by the inspector, although Mrs Bradley had made one notable find, and Miss Topas, who had been taken into her confidence and who had already ‘popped over’ once or twice ‘to see whether there was anything doing’, appeared again in time to take back a message to the Principal, and to give Mrs Bradley the news that Deborah was engaged to be married. She made this announcement in characteristic fashion. ‘By the way,’ she said, ‘you are by way of adding a niece to your collection. Do you mind?’
‘Deborah?’ said Mrs Bradley, grinning. ‘How did you manage it?’
‘I invited Jonathan over to Columba, as you suggested, and prevailed on her to come over with me for a drink. All unsuspecting, she came. I told him he would have to work fast.’
‘He must have taken you at your word. Is everything settled?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Well, heaven knows what her parents will think of him! But there! It’s no business of theirs,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘I’m glad Kitty did Deborah’s hair,’ she added, with apparent irrelevance.
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