CHAPTER II. THE 16TH AND 17TH OF JULY
I had arrived at Styles on the 5th of July. I come now to the events of the 16th and 17th of that month. For the convenience
of the reader I will recapitulate
the incidents of those days in as exact
a manner as possible
. They were elicited subsequently
at the trial by a process
of long and tedious
I received a letter from Evelyn Howard a couple
of days after her departure
, telling me she was working as a nurse at the big hospital in Middlingham, a manufacturing town some fifteen miles away, and begging me to let her know if Mrs. Inglethorp should show any wish to be reconciled.
The only fly in the ointment
of my peaceful
days was Mrs. Cavendish's , and, for my part, unaccountable preference
for the society
of Dr. Bauerstein. What she saw in the man I cannot imagine
, but she was always asking him up to the house, and often went off for long expeditions with him. I must confess
that I was quite unable to see his attraction
The 16th of July fell on a Monday. It was a day of turmoil
. The famous bazaar
had taken place on Saturday, and an entertainment
, in connection
with the same charity
, at which Mrs. Inglethorp was to recite
a War poem, was to be held that night. We were all busy during the morning arranging and decorating the Hall in the village
where it was to take place. We had a late luncheon
and spent the afternoon resting in the garden. I noticed that John's manner was somewhat unusual. He seemed very excited and restless
After tea, Mrs. Inglethorp went to lie down to rest before her efforts in the evening and I challenged Mary Cavendish to a single at tennis.
About a quarter
to seven, Mrs. Inglethorp called us that we should be late as supper was early that night. We had rather a scramble
to get ready in time; and before the meal was over the motor
was waiting at the door.
was a great success
, Mrs. Inglethorp's recitation
receiving tremendous applause
. There were also some tableaux in which Cynthia took part. She did not return with us, having been asked to a supper party, and to remain
the night with some friends who had been acting with her in the tableaux.
The following morning, Mrs. Inglethorp stayed in bed to breakfast, as she was rather overtired; but she appeared in her briskest mood
about 12.30, and swept Lawrence and myself off to a luncheon
"Such a charming invitation
from Mrs. Rolleston. Lady Tadminster's sister, you know. The Rollestons came over with the Conqueror-one of our oldest families."
Mary had excused herself on the plea
of an engagement
with Dr. Bauerstein.
We had a pleasant luncheon
, and as we drove away Lawrence suggested that we should return by Tadminster, which was barely
a mile out of our way, and pay a visit to Cynthia in her dispensary
. Mrs. Inglethorp replied that this was an excellent
idea, but as she had several
letters to write she would drop
us there, and we could come back with Cynthia in the pony-trap.
We were detained under suspicion
by the hospital porter
, until Cynthia appeared to vouch
for us, looking very cool and sweet in her long white overall
. She took us up to her sanctum, and introduced us to her fellow dispenser, a rather awe-inspiring individual
, whom Cynthia cheerily addressed as "Nibs."
"What a lot of bottles!" I exclaimed, as my eye travelled round the small room. "Do you really know what's in them all?"
"Say something original
," groaned Cynthia. "Every single person who comes up here says that. We are really thinking of bestowing a prize on the first individual
who does not say: 'What a lot of bottles!' And I know the next thing you're going to say is: 'How many people have you poisoned?'"
I pleaded guilty
with a laugh.
"If you people only knew how fatally easy it is to poison
someone by mistake
, you wouldn't joke about it. Come on, let's have tea. We've got all sorts of secret stories in that cupboard. No, Lawrence-that's the poison
cupboard. The big cupboard-that's right
We had a very cheery tea, and assisted Cynthia to wash up afterwards. We had just put away the last tea-spoon when a knock came at the door. The countenances of Cynthia and Nibs were suddenly
petrified into a stern
and forbidding expression
"Come in," said Cynthia, in a sharp professional tone
A young and rather scared
looking nurse appeared with a bottle which she proffered to Nibs, who waved her towards Cynthia with the somewhat enigmatical :
"I'm not really here to-day."
Cynthia took the bottle and examined it with the severity
of a judge.
"This should have been sent up this morning."
"Sister is very sorry. She forgot."
"Sister should read the rules outside the door."
I gathered from the little nurse's expression
that there was not the least likelihood
of her having the hardihood to retail
to the dreaded "Sister".
"So now it can't be done until to-morrow," finished Cynthia.
"Don't you think you could possibly let us have it to-night?"
"Well," said Cynthia graciously, "we are very busy, but if we have time it shall be done."
The little nurse withdrew, and Cynthia promptly
took a jar
from the shelf, refilled the bottle, and placed it on the table
outside the door.
"Discipline must be maintained?"
"Exactly. Come out on our little balcony
. You can see all the outside wards there."
I followed Cynthia and her friend and they pointed out the different
wards to me. Lawrence remained behind, but after a few moments Cynthia called to him over her shoulder to come and join us. Then she looked at her watch.
"Nothing more to do, Nibs?"
. Then we can lock up and go."
I had seen Lawrence in quite a different
light that afternoon. Compared to John, he was an astoundingly difficult
person to get to know. He was the opposite
of his brother in almost every respect
, being unusually shy
. Yet he had a certain charm
of manner, and I fancied that, if one really knew him well, one could have a deep affection
for him. I had always fancied that his manner to Cynthia was rather constrained
, and that she on her side was inclined
to be shy
of him. But they were both gay enough this afternoon, and chatted together like a couple
As we drove through
, I remembered that I wanted some stamps, so accordingly
we pulled up at the post office
As I came out again, I cannoned into a little man who was just entering. I drew aside
and apologised, when suddenly
, with a loud exclamation
, he clasped me in his arms and kissed me warmly
"Mon ami Hastings!" he cried. "It is indeed mon amiHastings!"
"Poirot!" I exclaimed.
I turned to the pony-trap.
"This is a very pleasant
meeting for me, Miss Cynthia. This is my old friend, Monsieur Poirot, whom I have not seen for years."
"Oh, we know Monsieur Poirot," said Cynthia gaily. "But I had no idea he was a friend of yours."
"Yes, indeed," said Poirot seriously. "I know Mademoiselle Cynthia. It is by the charity
of that good Mrs. Inglethorp that I am here." Then, as I looked at him inquiringly: "Yes, my friend, she had kindly extended hospitality
to seven of my countrypeople who, alas, are refugees from their native
land. We Belgians will always remember
her with gratitude
Poirot was an looking little man. He was hardly more than five feet, four inches, but carried himself with great dignity
. His head was exactly the shape
of an egg, and he always perched it a little on one side. His moustache was very stiff
. The neatness of his attire
was almost incredible
. I believe a speck of dust would have caused him more pain than a bullet wound
. Yet this quaint
dandified little man who, I was sorry to see, now limped badly, had been in his time one of the most celebrated
members of the Belgian police. As a detective
, his flair
had been , and he had achieved triumphs by unravelling some of the most baffling
cases of the day.
He pointed out to me the little house inhabited by him and his fellow Belgians, and I promised to go and see him at an early date. Then he raised his hat with a flourish
to Cynthia, and we drove away.
"He's a dear little man," said Cynthia. "I'd no idea you knew him."
"You've been entertaining a celebrity
unawares," I replied.
And, for the rest of the way home, I recited to them the various
exploits and triumphs of Hercule Poirot.
We arrived back in a very cheerful mood
. As we entered the hall, Mrs. Inglethorp came out of her boudoir
. She looked flushed and upset
"Oh, it's you," she said.
"Is there anything the matter
, Aunt Emily?" asked Cynthia.
"Certainly not," said Mrs. Inglethorp sharply
. "What should there be?" Then catching sight
of Dorcas, the parlourmaid, going into the dining-room, she called to her to bring some stamps into the boudoir
"Yes, m'm." The old servant
hesitated, then added diffidently: "Don't you think, m'm, you'd better get to bed? You're looking very tired
"Perhaps you're right
, Dorcas-yes-no-not now. I've some letters I must finish
by post-time. Have you lighted the fire in my room as I told you?"
"Then I'll go to bed directly
She went into the boudoir
again, and Cynthia stared after her.
! I wonder
what's up?" she said to Lawrence.
He did not seem to have heard her, for without a word he turned on his heel and went out of the house.
I suggested a quick game of tennis before supper and, Cynthia agreeing, I ran upstairs to fetch
Mrs. Cavendish was coming down the stairs. It may have been my fancy
, but she, too, was looking odd and disturbed.
"Had a good walk with Dr. Bauerstein?" I asked, trying to appear as indifferent
as I could.
"I didn't go," she replied abruptly
. "Where is Mrs. Inglethorp?"
"In the boudoir
Her hand clenched itself on the banisters, then she seemed to nerve
herself for some encounter
, and went rapidly past me down the stairs across the hall to the boudoir
, the door of which she shut behind her.
As I ran out to the tennis court
a few moments later, I had to pass the open boudoir
window, and was unable to help overhearing the following scrap
. Mary Cavendish was saying in the voice of a woman desperately
"Then you won't show it to me?"
To which Mrs. Inglethorp replied:
"My dear Mary, it has nothing to do with that matter
"Then show it to me."
"I tell you it is not what you imagine
. It does not concern
you in the least."
To which Mary Cavendish replied, with a rising bitterness:
"Of course, I might
have known you would shield
Cynthia was waiting for me, and greeted me eagerly with:
"I say! There's been the most awful row! I've got it all out of Dorcas."
"What kind of a row?"
"Between Aunt Emily and him. I do hope she's found him out at last!"
"Was Dorcas there, then?"
"Of course not. She 'happened to be near the door'. It was a real old bust-up. I do wish I knew what it was all about."
of Mrs. Raikes's gipsy face, and Evelyn Howard's warnings, but wisely decided to hold my peace, whilst Cynthia exhausted
every possible hypothesis
, and cheerfully hoped, "Aunt Emily will send him away, and will never speak to him again."
I was anxious
to get hold of John, but he was nowhere to be seen. Evidently something very momentous
had occurred that afternoon. I tried to forget
the few words I had overheard; but, do what I would, I could not dismiss
them altogether from my mind
. What was Mary Cavendish's concern
in the matter
Mr. Inglethorp was in the drawing-room when I came down to supper. His face was impassive
as ever, and the strange
unreality of the man struck me afresh.
Mrs. Inglethorp came down last. She still looked agitated
, and during the meal there was a somewhat constrained silence
. Inglethorp was unusually quiet. As a rule, he surrounded his wife with little attentions, placing a cushion
at her back, and altogether playing the part of the devoted husband
. Immediately after supper, Mrs. Inglethorp retired to her boudoir
"Send my coffee in here, Mary," she called. "I've just five minutes to catch the post."
Cynthia and I went and sat by the open window in the drawing-room. Mary Cavendish brought our coffee to us. She seemed excited.
"Do you young people want lights, or do you enjoy
?" she asked. "Will you take Mrs. Inglethorp her coffee, Cynthia? I will pour it out."
"Do not trouble, Mary," said Inglethorp. "I will take it to Emily." He poured it out, and went out of the room carrying it carefully.
Lawrence followed him, and Mrs. Cavendish sat down by us.
We three sat for some time in silence
. It was a glorious
night, hot and still. Mrs. Cavendish fanned herself gently with a palm leaf
"It's almost too hot," she murmured. "We shall have a thunderstorm."
Alas, that these harmonious
moments can never endure
! My paradise
was rudely shattered by the sound
of a well known, and heartily disliked, voice in the hall.
"Dr. Bauerstein!" exclaimed Cynthia. "What a funny time to come."
I glanced jealously at Mary Cavendish, but she seemed quite undisturbed, the delicate pallor
of her cheeks did not vary
In a few moments, Alfred Inglethorp had ushered the doctor in, the latter
laughing, and protesting that he was in no fit state
for a drawing-room. In truth, he presented a sorry spectacle
, being literally
plastered with mud.
"What have you been doing, doctor?" cried Mrs. Cavendish.
"I must make my apologies," said the doctor. "I did not really mean
to come in, but Mr. Inglethorp insisted."
"Well, Bauerstein, you are in a plight
," said John, strolling in from the hall. "Have some coffee, and tell us what you have been up to."
"The sun soon dried me off," he added, "but I'm afraid my appearance
is very disreputable
At this juncture
, Mrs. Inglethorp called to Cynthia from the hall, and the girl ran out.
up my despatch-case, will you, dear? I'm going to bed."
The door into the hall was a wide one. I had risen when Cynthia did, John was close by me. There were therefore three witnesses who could swear
that Mrs. Inglethorp was carrying her coffee, as yet untasted, in her hand.
My evening was utterly
and entirely spoilt by the presence
of Dr. Bauerstein. It seemed to me the man would never go. He rose at last, however, and I breathed a sigh
"I'll walk down to the village
with you," said Mr. Inglethorp. "I must see our agent
over those estate
accounts." He turned to John. "No one need
sit up. I will take the latch-key."