Till Death Do Us Part

'Mr Markham!' exclaimed Mrs Rackley. Her eyes added, 'Now, then!' as plainly as any Metropolitan police- constable.

'Where's Miss Lesley?'

'She's 'ere, sir.'

' She's not here, Mrs Rackley!'

'I left 'er 'ere,' the other pointed out, dumping the parcels on the hall table with something of alarm. ' When did you leave her ?'

'An hour ago, it might be.' Mrs Rackley's eyes moved to the clock.' Miss Cynthia -' ' What about Miss Cynthia ?'

A flustered cook-maid-housekeeper was having some trouble with the parcels in market-basket and carrier, which seemed to be developing a tendency to roll like billiard-balls.

'Well, sir, it was while Major Price was here. Miss Cynthia, she come to the back door and said, could she slip up the back stairs to Miss Lesley's room, because she had something she wanted to surprise her with? I said yes, she could, Miss Cynthia being a Nice Girl and holding no offence towards you and Miss Lesley for ... I beg- pardon-I'm-sure!'

‘ Well ? What happened then ?'

' Sir, what's wrong ?'

' Never' mind that! Go on!'

'Then Major Price left, and Miss Lesley went upstairs too, and I heard them talking up there.' 'Yes?'

' I went upstairs myself, and tapped on the bedroom door, and said, 'Miss, your breakfast's ready.' And she called out and said, 'I'll come down straightaway; please go out and do your marketing.' Speaking up very sharp, which she's never done before. And so I marched straight out like she said.' Mrs Rackley's sense of bitter offence melted into concern as the possibility of a new enormity occurred to her.' Don't you tell me, sir, she didn't get her breakfast ?'

Dick ignored this.

'I'm afraid there's been an accident' He hesitated. ' Miss Cynthia fell and hurt her head. If you could -'

It was unnecessary to say any more. Though a heavy woman, Mrs Rackley ascended the stairs with surprising agility, holding a hand under her heart as though to prevent it from falling out. Her treatment of Cynthia was deft and effective.

After bathing the bruise, sponging away blood, she applied restoratives of her own which she fetched from an upper floor. Cynthia, coming out of the faint, began to fight. Cynthia writhed and squirmed and muttered and kicked out; and Mrs Rackley held her shoulders patiently until she quietened.

'Now, now!' urged Mrs Rackley. 'Now, now!' Her neck craned round. 'Do you think, sir, as we ought to send for the doctor?'

'No.’

' 'Ow did this 'appen, sir ?'

' She - she slipped and hit her head on the foot of the bed.'

' Was you here, sir ?'

'Thank you, Mrs Rackley. That will be all. If you could let me speak to Miss Cynthia alone for a moment...'

'I don't know,' said Mrs Rackley deliberately, 'as I ought to do that.'

'What she needs,' said Dick, 'is tea.' He had no idea whether this might be the right measure, but he counted on the effect on Mrs Rackley of suggesting anything prepared in the kitchen. 'Hot black tea,' he declared with assurance, 'without any sugar or milk. If we could have some of that...'

It worked.

Then he sat down on the edge of the bed beside Cynthia, who hastily smoothed down her skirt and must have felt the pain burn through her head as she tried to get up. Cynthia breathed hard. The blue eyes, becoming less cloudy, grew fixed,' she went red under the eyes, and then pale again.

‘ It's all right, Cynthia. What happened ?'

'She hit me. It sounds a-absurd, but she hit me. With that mirror.'

'What mirror?'

Cynthia tried to struggle up in order to point; as soon as her shoulders left the coverlet she caught sight of the open safe; and she caught in manifest dizziness at Dick's arm.

‘Dick! That safe!'

'What about it?’

' It's empty. What was in it? ‘

'Don't you know?'

'No! I tried to -' Abruptly Cynthia checked herself. Her face smoothed itself out to utter, pretty stolidity; without the prettiness, it would have been bovine. She attempted a light laugh. ' My dear old boy,' she added in her tennis-court voice, 'we're being rather absurd. Please let me get up.'

‘Oe still, Cynthia.'

'Just as you like, of course!'

'Where did you hear that there was something, anything at all, supposed to be in that safe ?'

'My dear Richard, I didn't! That safe is the mystery of the whole village. Half of Six Ashes talks about it, thank you. And, s-since we've got so many mysteries on our hands - !' Again Cynthia checked herself. 'She hit at me, Dick. I walked towards her, intending to reason with her. And she hit out at me like a snake striking. With that mirror.'

Dick glanced round.

On the dressing-table was a silver toilet-service: plain, unobtrusive, but costly and very heavy. Its hand- mirror, which would have made a murderous weapon, now lay balanced on the edge of the dressing-table as though hastily put down.

Dick Markham - he felt it himself with surprise - was no longer the mentally dazed and drugged person of yesterday. He had torn loose from evil, or so he thought; he had become again an alert, alive young man with more than his fair share of intelligence.

'Why did she do that, Cynthia ?'

' I've told you! I asked her to open the safe.'

' Was she standing in front of you ?'

'Yes. With her back to that dressing-table, and her hand behind her. And she lashed out with the mirror before I could lift a finger.'

' Cynthia, are you sure you're telling me the truth ?'

'Why shouldn't I be telling you the truth?'

'Lesley's right-handed. If she hit out at you with the mirror while you were facing her, that bruise ought to be on your left temple. How is it that the bruise is on your right temple?'

Cynthia stared at him.

' Don't you believe me, Dick Markham ?'

'I'm not saying I don't believe you, Cynthia. I'm trying to find out what happened here.'

'Of course,' Cynthia said with sudden fierce bitterness, 'you'd take her part.' And then, disregarding appearances, this girl who was always so careful of appearances rolled over on her face and began passionately to sob.

Dick, with a hot and cold feeling of- embarrassment, made the mistake of trying to touch her arm; she shook him off with a gesture of intense loathing. He got up, went to the window, and stared out blankly at the High Street.

Across the road, and to the left, loomed the entrance-gates of Ashe Hall. Nothing stirred in the High Street except a tall military-looking man - a stranger in the village, Dick vaguely noticed - who was crossing the street on this side in the direction of the post office.

Dick was fond of Cynthia, very fond, though not in the same way as his feeling for Lesley. The thought which flashed through his head was so ugly that it turned him cold: the more so as Cynthia's emotional storm spent itself immediately. With a calm and amazing change of mood, she sat up and put her feet down to the floor.

' I must look a sight,' she observed.