Dance to Your Daddy

'I wonder what he promised Hubert and Willoughby?' said Giles. 'Perhaps it wasn't enough to make it seem worthwhile for them to show up. Anyway, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm off. I wouldn't stay a minute longer under his beastly roof if you paid me!'

'Isn't there a New Forest meet in the morning?' asked Tancred, with apparent innocence. 'Pity to miss that, as you're here.'

(3)

When Dame Beatrice came down to breakfast on the following morning it was to find her host alone at the table. The remainder of the previous day had been strange and, to everyone but herself and Tancred, who both enjoyed bizarre situations, very uncomfortable.

Judith had come down to face the glum and grim silence which followed Tancred's last words and observed, with false brightness, that 'poor little Trilby' had been soothed and put to bed and was being watched over by one of the maids, and that Romilly had been called out unexpectedly, but would be back in time for dinner.

'I should think it would choke him,' muttered Humphrey. Aloud he said: 'I suppose you and he have taken it for granted that Binnie and I will be leaving first thing in the morning?'

'Oh, must you go so soon?' asked Judith. 'I must arrange about the car, then.'

'We're all going,' said Tancred. At least'-he glanced at Giles-'most of us, I think.'

Dame Beatrice had also decided to leave, provided that Romilly kept his promise about allowing her to take Rosamund with her. Laura's letter, confirming her own and the girl's own fears, had clinched her determination to remove the prospective heiress from Romilly's clutches and make provision for her safety. After all, the child was related to her, even if somewhat obscurely, and Dame Beatrice had never attempted to shake off the sense of responsibility which was the glory and the curse of her generation. What she was to do with Rosamund ultimately she had no idea. Marriage would be the best solution if matters arranged themselves that way, although whether the possible husband was to be envied, Dame Beatrice had begun to be doubtful.

Romilly stood up as she came to the breakfast-table and placed a chair for her.

'Is anybody else up?' she asked.

'Humphrey and Binnie have breakfasted and are packing.' Romilly laughed as he spoke. 'Humphrey has taken my little jokes rather badly, I'm afraid.'

'Your little jokes?'

'Why, yes. All that clap-trap about the murderer, and so forth. I merely wanted to amuse them all, you know. One thing, Corin and Corinna knew better than to take me seriously.'

'They are staying on, then?'

'Oh, yes. So is Giles. There's a meet of the New Forest hounds this morning. He was up and away an hour ago. I've lent him a horse.'

'What about Mr Tancred?'

'Not up yet. Don't suppose he'll be down before ten. I'm expecting to hear from Hubert and Willoughby by this morning's post. Wonder what they've got to say for themselves? Dashed uncivil to accept an invitation and not turn up. Post doesn't get here until the middle of the morning. That's the worst of living in the wilds. Ah, here's your fresh toast. What are you thinking of doing with yourself today?'

'I thought I would take my patient to the Stone House.'

'You're not throwing me to these wolves?'

'You spoke a minute ago of your little jokes.'

'That, yes. But I still believe my life may be in danger. You must stay and see me through. Humphrey is very angry with me. He believed I could get him that public school place.'

'I shall not stay. Rosamund will be better away from this house, and I decline to be a party to your little jokes.'

'Well, before you go, would you get your man to run Humphrey and Binnie in to Wareham? They want to catch a train to Waterloo. My own car is needed for Tancred, who, for some reason, wishes to go to Shaftesbury.'

Dame Beatrice wondered how he knew this, as nothing, so far as she was aware, had been said about such an expedition on the previous evening. However, she made no demur. She said:

'That means, then, that Rosamund and I will be leaving a little later than I had anticipated.'

'Oh, you must certainly stay to lunch. Judith would never forgive me if you left without saying goodbye to her. Besides, you must be here when the post comes. I am anxious to show you the letters from Hubert and Willoughby. I cannot think why they have not written sooner to tell me they could not come along. I shall accompany Humphrey and Binnie to Wareham to see them off, so I may not be here to receive the letters.'

'You surely will not want to miss the postman when he comes. And if Humphrey is as angry as you say-'

'The letters will still be here when I get back, for surely those two boys will write? The point is, you see, that I want to make quite sure Humphrey and Binnie really do catch that train. Humphrey is in a very unpleasant mood, as I indicated, and I should not wish him to do me the mischief which I am sure he did not contemplate when he came down here.'

'You do not wish him to forestall the murderer?' Dame Beatrice facetiously enquired. Romilly took her seriously.

'Oh, Humphrey would not dare to go so far, but he might resort to fisticuffs, and I have a horror of unthinking violence,' he said.

'There are other kinds of violence, of course. Very well, I will accompany you to Wareham and George will protect you. Humphrey will not care to resort to violence in our presence.'

It was clear that her company was the last thing Romilly wanted, and it gave her inward amusement to watch his struggle with himself before he said:

'Well, that would be very nice, of course, but your man will be sufficient protection. Besides, would it not be better if you spent the time with your patient? With myself out of the house and the others upstairs out of the way, I should have thought...'

'We'll take Rosamund with us,' said Dame Beatrice. 'She will enjoy an outing, and since she and Binnie are of a fashionable slimness, they can sit in front in my car with George, and then there will be plenty of room for the rest of us on the back seat. I can sit between you and Humphrey and keep you apart. That way, you will feel perfectly safe.'

'Well, if you think it a good idea to take Trilby,' said Romilly, with the utmost unwillingness, 'I suppose it's all right.'

'By the way,' said Dame Beatrice, as though struck by a sudden thought, 'if you are going to Wareham in my car, who is to drive Tancred to Shaftesbury?-or is he, perhaps, to drive himself and return here later?'

'Oh, no, he does not propose to return. Luke can take him there and bring my car back.'

'Then I think perhaps I will change my mind. It is a much longer drive to Shaftesbury than to Wareham, and will be more of a treat for Rosamund, as she seems to go out so little. You had better take Humphrey and Binnie to Wareham in your own car, with Luke to protect you, and I will transport Tancred and Rosamund in mine. How will that be?'

(4)

Binnie, whose boneheadedness was almost equalled by her kindness of heart, had left Rosamund a slip, a woollen frock and a cardigan. She informed Dame Beatrice of this loan during the few moments they had together before Romilly took the married couple to Wareham to catch their train.

'Too bad she shouldn't have proper clothes,' said Binnie. 'Humphrey doesn't know I've lent them to her, so you won't say anything, will you? He's always saying I'm stupid, and so I am. If he finds out about the dress and things, I shall say I did it to spite Uncle Romilly. He hates him, you see. If anybody does murder Uncle Romilly, it's almost sure to be Humphrey. I shouldn't really mind if Humphrey went to prison for a good long time. Could you get me a job as a model? I would prefer clothes, but artists or photographers would be all right. If it was an artist, I might be his mistress, mightn't I? I'd like to be somebody's mistress. I wouldn't mind if he beat me and we had to live on bread and cheese and beer. I'd like him to be tempestuous, like some of those people in the Wednesday plays. And we'd make love all night and scratch each other's eyes out all day (except when he'd be painting, of course), and my picture would be in all the picture galleries and the Academy, and all that, and everybody would say, "Isn't she wonderful?" I'd love it, wouldn't I?'