Tom Brown's Body

suppose. When I found what was happening I tried to persuade her to snap out of it, but it was no good, of course. Rogue elephants have nothing on girls who think they know their own minds. So I gave in gracefully, don't you know, and announced the engagement myself and threw this champagne party in the Masters' Common Room at School. It went quite well, I think, except for Jack Semple, who, I fancy, was hoping that Marion would have picked him instead of Conway. Still, possibly, as I say, I overdid it.'

'What about Kay?' asked Gavin.

'Oh, Kay doesn't drink,' said Mr Pearson, 'and anyway he wouldn't care two hoots whether Marion was engaged or not.'

'Not if a married Mr Conway stood the chance of the next House?' asked Mrs Bradley.

'Good Lord!' said Mr Pearson. 'Fancy your thinking of that! I suppose that would make a difference! And, of course, Kay hated Conway like poison. Never a civil word for the chap. I've often thought Kay would slug him in the Common Room. I say, that does add up! Poor old Kay! He isn't much of a hero, though. I shouldn't think he did it, you know.'

'What do you think?' Gavin enquired of Mrs Bradley when they had left Mr Pearson.

'I think it might be a good idea to see Marion Pearson,' she replied, 'particularly as her father does not appear to have any objection to your doing so. But I don't know that I'd see her just yet. Her father will have warned her.'

'Good idea,' said Gavin. 'I thought of it, too. Not that I can see what she can tell us. Of course, she was engaged to the fellow, but she hardly comes on to the list of suspects, does she?'

'We may know whether she does or not when we have heard what she has to say.'

They returned to Mr Pearson's house two days later, but had to wait until Marion returned from the village. Mrs Bradley thought she looked tired. She was very pale and her eyes were dark-circled from loss of sleep.

'No, I don't mind talking about Gerald,' she said, in reply to Gavin's first question. 'It was a shock when I heard what had happened, but now it's all over, it's as though I'd hardly known him.'

Mrs Bradley looked perturbed, but Gavin said he could understand what the girl meant. He asked how long the couple had been engaged.

'Oh, only six weeks, the actual engagement,' Marion told him, 'but we'd had an understanding for about ten months, only Daddy didn't know. He didn't like Gerald much, and I found out why.'

'Yes?' said Gavin encouragingly.

'Well, I expect you know what kind of man Gerald was, but I wasn't born yesterday, even if I do call my father Daddy. I simply told Gerald that once he was a married man and a Housemaster he'd have to behave himself, whether he liked it or not.'

'A Housemaster?' said Gavin. The girl nodded.

'I've always wanted to be a Housemaster's wife,' she said placidly, 'ever since I was six and proposed to Mr Loveday. That was nineteen years ago, but I've never forgotten it, and neither has Mr Loveday. He still teases me about it when I see him, and when the Lovedays come here to tea he always mentions it. He's an absolute pet. All he cares about in the world is his Roman Bath, and I think that's ever so sweet of him.'

Gavin laughed.

'And what did Miss Loveday have to say to your proposal to her brother?' he asked.

'Oh, Miss Loveday is as much of an old duck as Mr Loveday. I think they're both terribly quaint, don't you? – and they take ever so much trouble over looking after their boys. The Loveday boys are notably well fed. I often tell Miss Loveday that when I'm a Housemaster's wife she'll have to show me all the ropes. She's promised, too, and says she'll lend me all her diet sheets and things.'

'Which House?' asked Gavin, who was keenly interested in the turn the conversation had taken, but who realized that it would be desirable to treat the subject lightly. 'Which House did you suppose you might be going to have?'

'Oh, Mr Mayhew's,' replied the girl without hesitation. 'He's always talking about starting a prep school, you know, and he's got the money to do it. Mrs Mayhew is rather delicate, though, and the air here suits her, otherwise I think they'd have gone before. They would start the prep school in this neighbourhood if they could, and send their boys to Spey, but there isn't a suitable place for miles around. It would mean building, and there isn't a hope of that at present. Gerald and I had counted on waiting – well, perhaps five years. I shouldn't have minded that at all. We could just about have managed on Gerald's salary and the money Mother left me when she died. I believe, really,' she added, simply, 'I'm more sorry about the House than about Gerald.'

'You don't know, of course,' said Gavin, slowly, 'of any bad enemies he had?'

'Gerald? You mean bad enough to kill him? I go over and over in my mind all the people who could possibly have borne him a grudge. You must have to feel awful about anybody to do a thing like that. I mean, murder is final, isn't it? I can only think of one thing that would bring me to kill anyone, and that would be if Daddy's life was in danger, or if someone could bring him into some dreadful disgrace.'

'Or misery?' Gavin suggested.

'No, not misery. I think people have to put up with misery, don't you? But I can't think of anyone who had reason enough to kill Gerald. I mean, I know his manners were often appalling and I know he had a very bitter tongue when he liked, and I know he had this reputation of being a sort of little Don Juan, but I can't imagine anyone taking any of it as seriously as all that. Can you?' She tried to look as ingenuous as her words.

'Well, people vary so much,' said Gavin. 'Where levelheaded citizens like you and me would either laugh it off or sock him in the jaw, others, less level-headed, might possibly see cause for bumping him off. That's all I can make of it. By the way, I suppose you were here, at home, when it happened?'

'No, I wasn't,' said the girl, quickly. 'I was staying in London with my aunt. I should have come back on the Monday, but auntie particularly asked me to stay for a dinner party she was giving the next week-end.'

'Yes, I see,' said Gavin. 'Well, now, Miss Pearson, one more question. You've probably seen a good bit of the School and its life, and you may be acquainted with some of the boys. Will you tell me? – I've asked some of the masters, but, as you can imagine, they're a prejudiced lot where their boys are concerned, so I'm wondering whether you can help me.'

'In what way?' she enquired; and he watched her face change.

'Will you tell me of any boy who might conceivably have had sufficient grudge against Mr Conway to have killed him – or helped to kill him?'

Gavin, watching her, saw the struggle going on in her mind.

'Well,' she said, 'I suppose I'll have to tell, although I promised secrecy. But it's too important for me to think of that.' Gavin still watched her, and waited. 'It's Scrupe, you know,' she went on. 'You know Scrupe, I suppose? He's one of Mr Mayhew's boys, and – of course it sounds ridiculous – it is ridiculous – but he's in love with me. I found him in Gerald's cottage. I had a key which Gerald had given me when we got engaged – well, actually, a few weeks before that – and I'd gone along there to get some letters I'd written to Gerald. Our engagement hadn't been made public, and I didn't much want people to know about it after he had – died in that way.'

'By 'Gerald's cottage,' I suppose you mean the room he rented from old Mrs Harries?' interpolated Mrs Bradley. For the first time, Marion looked scared.

'Well, yes,' she admitted. She turned to Gavin, as though to a sympathetic presence. 'Daddy didn't like Gerald, so I had to meet him somewhere by mutual arrangement. I couldn't go to his room at the School, naturally, and I couldn't very often have him here. So he found this way.'

'Did you know,' asked Mrs Bradley, 'that somebody else had previously met him at Mrs Harries's cottage?'

'Oh, yes,' Marion replied, readily. 'It was Mrs Poundbury. He was a very silly boy. He tried to get rid of her by giving her old Mrs Harries's anti-love potions.' She laughed heartily, and then looked enquiringly from one to the other of her hearers. 'You don't think that's funny?' she enquired.

'Not very, you know,' said Gavin apologetically. 'In fact' – he hesitated a moment – 'in fact, I rather think that you are well out of a very dirty business. Well, good-bye, Miss Pearson. If you think of anything else we ought to know, I'm sure you'll come and tell us.'

'You don't like Miss Pearson very much,' said Mrs Bradley when, for the second time, they had left the house.