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Lady Cherrell, dressed for di
“That’s what you prayed for, dear.”
“Does it mean suicide?”
“I think so.”
“Ought I to tell Diana now, or wait till she’s had a night’s sleep?”
“Now, I think. I will, if you like.”
“No, no, darling. It’s up to me. She’ll like di
“This is all very dreadful for you, Di
“It’s good for me.” She took back the telegram and went out.
Diana was with the children, who were giving as long as possible to the process of going to bed, not having reached the age when to do such a thing has become desirable. Di
Checking all impulse, Di
“I wish I had Diana’s self-control.”
“Self-control like hers is the result of all she’s been through.”
“There’s the Vere de Vere touch about it, too.”
“That’s no bad thing, Di
“What will this inquest mean?”
“She’ll need all her self-control there, I’m afraid.”
“Mother, shall I have to give evidence?”
“You were the last person who spoke to him so far as is known, weren’t you?”
“Yes. Must I speak of his coming to the door last night?”
“I suppose you ought to tell everything you know, if you’re asked.”
A flush stained Di
“I don’t think I will. I never even told Diana that. And I don’t see what it has to do with outsiders.”
“No, I don’t see either; but we’re not supposed to exercise our own judgments as to that.”
“Well, I shall; I’m not going to pander to people’s beastly curiosity, and give Diana pain.”
“Suppose one of the maids heard him?”
“They can’t prove that I did.”
Lady Cherrell smiled. “I wish your father were here.”
“You are not to tell Dad what I told you, Mother. I can’t have the male conscience fussing around; the female’s is bad enough, but one has it in hand.”
“Very well.”
“I shan’t have the faintest scruple,” said Di
“I oughtn’t to aid and abet you, Di
“Yes, you ought, Mother. You know you agree at heart.”
Lady Cherrell said no more. She did…
The General and Alan Tasburgh came down next morning by the first train, and half an hour later they all started in the open car; Alan driving, the General beside him, and in the back seat Lady Cherrell, Di
Adrian met them in the hall of the hotel at Chichester, and she took her chance to say: “Uncle, can I speak to you and Uncle Hilary privately?”
“Hilary had to go back to Town, my dear, but he’ll be down the last thing this evening; we can have a talk then. The inquest’s tomorrow.”
With that she had to be content.
When he had finished his story, determined that Adrian should not take Diana to see Ferse, she said: “If you’ll tell us where to go, Uncle, I’LL go with Diana.”
Adrian nodded. He had understood.
When they reached the mortuary, Diana went in alone, and Di
She turned to see Diana again beside her, and, suddenly forgetting her own woe, threw an arm round her and kissed her cold cheek. They went back to the hotel without speaking, except for Diana’s: “He looked marvellously calm.”
She went early to her room after di
“It’s about Uncle Adrian, Uncle. I’ve been thinking. This inquest is going to be horrid if we don’t take care.”
“It is, Di
Di
“You won’t mind my talking freely, will you, Uncle?”
Adrian smiled. “No, Di
“It seems to me, then,” she went on, plaiting her fingers on the bed-rail, “that the chief point is to keep Uncle Adrian’s friendship for Diana out of it, and I thought that the asking of you two to find him ought to be put entirely on to me. You see, I was the last person known to speak to him, when he cut the telephone wire, you know, so, when I’m called, I could get it into their minds that you were entirely my suggestion, as a couple of Uncles who were clever and good at crossword puzzles. Otherwise, why did we go to Uncle Adrian? Because he was SUCH A FRIEND, and then you’d get at once all that they may think that means, especially when they hear that Captain Ferse was away four years.”