Dance to Your Daddy

than from the cliffs, for instance, above Chapman's Pool, or-according to the photographs I have seen-I do not know the place-the rocks of Dancing Ledge. As you yourself have told me, she has been able, on occasion, to elude your vigilance and to reach that part of the coast alone.'

'Well, I think it's a lot of nonsense!' Judith blurted out. 'Of course she mustn't go near the water!'

'My dear girl!' said Romilly. 'You must not talk like that! My cousin Beatrice, in her own field, is an expert. If,' he went on, turning to her, 'you feel that to take poor Trilby to the seaside will help her in any way, of course you must do as you wish. The only thing is that either Judith or myself must come with you. I could not permit you to take the risk of being alone there with my poor, misguided little girl.'

'Even at this time of year, we should hardly be alone at Swanage. Besides, my chauffeur will be there if I need any help. The worst thing for Rosamund, in my opinion, would be for those nearest her to be eavesdroppers on our conversations,' said Dame Beatrice equably.

'Eavesdroppers?' cried Judith, indignantly.

'For want of a more euphemistic term, yes, eavesdroppers,' Dame Beatrice repeated firmly. 'That is how the patient would interpret your presence, I'm afraid.'

Judith rose from the table.

'I give up,' she said. 'The whole idea is crazy, and your reference to Uncle Romilly and myself is extremely offensive.'

'Sit down at once, Judith,' said Romilly, in a mild tone but with a clear command behind the softly-spoken words. 'We must allow Beatrice to act in the way she thinks best. After the first time, I doubt whether she herself will wish to continue the experiment alone.'

Dame Beatrice had no hope that she would be able to see her charge before the other two had spoken to her. She also wondered whether Rosamund would appear in the Joan of Arc costume. Before they rose from table-Judith having preserved a sulky silence after her last outburst, and Romilly having avoided the disputed subject and chatted with apparent amiability on trivial matters-Dame Beatrice said smoothly:

'Can Mrs Romilly be ready to join me at half-past two?'

Judith shrugged her shoulders. Romilly bowed and replied:

'Of course, of course, my dear Beatrice. I am afraid you'll find her incredibly costumed. She refuses to wear modern dress, and flies into a paroxysm if I suggest it.'

'Well, I'm often incredibly costumed myself,' said Dame Beatrice, accurately. At half-past two, then, I look forward to meeting her.'

'I wonder how she'll get herself up?' said Judith. 'Oh, well, it's her affair-and yours. Not that she hasn't plenty of sensible clothes if she chooses to wear them.' She turned to Romilly. 'Why don't you make her unlock that wardrobe and get out some respectable clothes and insist she put them on?'

'How does one insist, my dear? I can hardly threaten her, and, even if I did, I doubt whether she would take much notice.'

'You're far too soft with her, don't you think so, Dame Beatrice?'

'Oh, come, my dear girl! How can Beatrice answer such a question when, so far, she knows nothing whatever about Trilby?'

'I would not say I know nothing whatever about her,' objected Dame Beatrice. 'You yourself have been most informative. As for insisting on what a patient does or does not do, well, that depends either upon the patient's intelligent and friendly cooperation or, of course, her fear of death.'

'Fear of death?' echoed Romilly, forcing himself to laugh. 'Good heavens, there's no question of her fearing death! Why should there be?'

'Most people fear death to a greater or a lesser degree, and for a variety of reasons, do they not?'

'Oh, I see what you mean,' said Romilly. 'Yes, well, look here, Judith, my dear, if Beatrice is going to take Trilby out, it will be a convenient time for me to go over the household accounts with you.'

Judith pouted at this, and said that it was quite unnecessary.

Dame Beatrice went to her room to get ready for the outing, then she rang the bell.

'Oh, Amabel,' she said, 'will you ask my man to bring the car round? I am taking Mrs Romilly for an outing to Swanage.'

'Be rare and cold on the beach this toime of year, Dame Beatrice, mum. Swanage be bracen. Face east, that do, more nor south.'

'Yes, I had thought of that. We may need rugs. Will you tell George to get them out of the boot, and perhaps you or Violet will make sure that they are aired before he puts them ready for us on the back seat.' (If Rosamund's costume were a little too bizarre, she thought, the rugs would cover it up to some extent.)

'Oi'll do that, Dame Beatrice, mum. Be noice for poor Messus Trelby to go out proper. A fair old lettle hen en a pen her be, I do believe. Can't thenk how she aboide et, really Oi carn't.'

'She looks well enough on it,' said Dame Beatrice carelessly. Feeling herself dismissed, which was indeed the case, Amabel went downstairs to rout out George and the rugs. As soon as she was out of hearing, Dame Beatrice stepped out on to the gallery and turned the handle of the door next to her own. It was locked. This she found especially intriguing in view of the hole which had been made in the wall.

She went back to her own room, took down the picture and studied the hole again. It was not cut flush with the wall, which was of brick, but had been made in the form of one of those so-called squints in old churches which are cut obliquely through a wall or a pillar to give a view of the high altar from a side-chapel or a transept.

The purpose of the squint in her bedroom seemed to be to give a view of the head of the bed. Again she thought of the romantically-minded Laura. Anybody pointing a gun through the squint from the room next door would stand a pretty fair chance, she decided, of putting a bullet through the head of anybody asleep in the four-