Laurels Are Poison

until the morning.’

‘Yes, I see. And I do see what you mean now about Miss Murchan. But nothing could be proved, could it? I mean, it would only be one person’s word against another’s.’

‘Yes,’ Mrs Bradley agreed. ‘One other point comes to my mind. I imagine that the step-sisters may not have agreed very well. It is strongly probable, psychologically, that Miss Paynter-Tree wrote the anonymous letter to the police. It is certainly odd that both of them chose to resign like that, after the inquest. Then, the child lived with grandparents. Of parents I can find no trace at all.’

Deborah shuddered. She was aware that the black eyes were still watching and assessing her. She said, without looking directly at Mrs Bradley:

‘Wasn’t there an Assistant-Warden here? What happened to . her?’

‘A young woman called Carr was the Assistant-Warden. But, as it happened, she left to be married at the mid- term, and as Miss Murchan insisted that she could manage until the summer vacation, nobody was appointed. When did you apply for the post?’

‘Last Easter.’

‘Yes. Miss Carr would have tendered her resignation at the end of the Lent Term, I suppose, and the College advertised immediately. Were many candidates called up for interview?’

‘Eight, I think.’

‘All of them older than yourself?’

‘Yes. A good deal older, some of them. I didn’t think I stood an earthly chance.’

‘Youth must be served, child. Trite but true, especially nowadays. When was the final selection made?’

‘Not until the second week in July. I say!’ She looked full at Mrs Bradley. ‘Did you have anything to do with the appointment?’

‘Yes, child. I was an unseen but interested witness at all the interviews.’

‘And you decided… ?’

‘Yes, child.’

‘Well, thank you very much, but…’

‘That is why we are having this very trying conversation,’ said Mrs Bradley, cutting short the observation which, from Deborah, was almost inevitable in the circumstances. ‘I don’t want you to stay if you are at all nervous. I don’t know why you should be nervous, but, after all, one cannot deny that one has read Mr Montagu Rhodes James’s Story of a Disappearance and of an Appearance, can one?’

‘I’m horribly nervous,’ said Deborah, allowing herself to be side-tracked, but perceiving the machinery involved, ‘but I did want the job, and I still want it. What am I to do? I mean, why exactly did you decide on me?’

‘Because you are young, child, and I can manage you. You don’t mind my putting it like that? I must have someone who is young enough to be able to keep her own counsel and my secrets. Older women, even the best of them, sometimes are not good at either. The Sub-Warden here must be my lieutenant not only so far as running this Hall is concerned, but in my other work, the work that I’m really here to do. Do you understand what I mean?’

‘Yes, I think so. I — I know who you are, of course.’

‘Well, think it over tonight, and let me know first thing in the morning. I might say that your old post is still open to you. I have made certain of that. My son knows the Chairman of the Governors.’

‘Can’t you tell me any more? About Miss Murchan, I mean.’

‘I don’t know very much more, child.’

At that moment the telephone rang.

‘It’s about you,’ said Mrs Bradley, answering it. ‘Miss du Mugne wants to see you.’

Miss du Mugne was a middle-aged, smiling, frosty woman whom Deborah immediately and, so far as she could tell, unreasonably disliked.

There were flowers on the desk and flowers on the piano. There was a copy of a picture by Corot indicating very large, active trees and very small, insignificant people, and there was also a Staff photograph. The picture hung on the wall behind the piano, the other stood in the centre of the mantelpiece.

‘Miss Cloud?’ said Miss du Mugne. ‘I am glad to welcome you to Cartaret You have met Mrs Bradley, the new Warden of Athelstan?’

‘Yes.’

‘You understand that — that your appointment is under rather abnormal conditions, don’t you, Miss Cloud?’

‘I… Yes.’

‘Well, I would not like to have you think that under happier circumstances someone else might have been appointed. I want you to know, Miss Cloud, that yours was my first selection out of the long list of applications received, and that you would have been appointed in any case — Mrs Bradley’s work here notwithstanding.’

She paused and beamed, apparently anticipating thanks. Deborah nervously gave them.

‘Then that’s all right,’ said the Principal. ‘I do hope you will be happy and comfortable here. Miss Band, the Assistant-Principal, will let you have a time-table of your lectures. I do hope you will find the work interesting. We get, I am glad to say, a very good type of student. Our standards are high and I am determined to maintain them. Well, good-bye, Miss Cloud, and do come to me if you are in any difficulty. I do rely on you to do all you can to assist Mrs Bradley, especially as regards the catering and the