Dance to Your Daddy

Corin and Corinna were seated on either side of the fireplace and appeared to be dejected. Giles, looking tired, was with them. All three of the young people looked towards the door when Dame Beatrice entered. Giles and Corin stood up politely, but Corinna, with an exclamation, went towards her.

'The very person!' she said. 'A very present help in time of trouble, as the psalmist said.'

'He wasn't talking about Aunt Adela,' said Corin dispiritedly.

'We may as well unload the trouble, anyway,' said his sister. 'Have a seat, Aunt Adela, and hear us our prayers.'

'It might be more to the point were I to hear your confessions,' said Dame Beatrice. 'I take it that you have news of Willoughby.'

'What on earth makes you think that?' demanded Corinna, suddenly looking agitated. 'What can have put such an idea into your head?' She ruffled the short hair on her own head until it stood almost on end. Her brother put his face between his hands and groaned.

'Now you have torn it!' he said. 'I knew you would!'

'No, I haven't. Somebody had to know, and Aunt Adela is much the best person, because she'll tell us what to do.'

'If you have found out anything about Willoughby, the people who need to know are the police,' said Dame Beatrice. 'As they are in the house at this very moment, there is nothing to prevent you from waylaying them as they leave and cleansing your bosoms of this perilous stuff.'

'Well, there you are,' said Corinna. That's what I've been saying all along.'

'But they may suspect us of killing him,' exclaimed her twin. 'I would agree if Hubert's body hadn't already been found.'

'Well, we didn't kill Hubert, or Willoughby, so what?'

Dame Beatrice interposed.

'Am I to be let into the secret, or am I not?' she demanded. 'Having said so much, would it not be better to tell me all?'

The twins looked at one another, and Corin shook his head. His unkempt hair fell across his brown face. He looked like Mowgli, Dame Beatrice thought, with his expression of wariness, animal shyness and a kind of innocent cunning. He was, according to the fashion of the day, a handsome, attractive boy.

'I'm not saying anything more,' he said truculently. 'Corinna, blast her, has given you a nod and a wink, so now it's up to you.'

'But she isn't a blind horse!' said Giles quietly. 'Don't you see we can't leave it like this? It would have been better to say nothing at all.'

'Which is what I wanted. You know it is! We've argued about it enough! Corinna will rush in and say things in a panic. Shut up, Corinna! Believe me, I know what's best.'

'Very well. I'm sorry, Aunt Adela, very sorry, but if Corin won't listen to reason, well, he won't.'

'He can't afford to,' muttered Corin. 'In a case of murder, it isn't a good thing to know too much.'

'Well, that would appear to be that,' said Dame Beatrice equably. 'You surely do not mean that Willoughby has been murdered, too, and that you have seen the body? Do you want someone else-myself, for preference-to report it?'

'Oh, no! Goodness me, no!' cried Corinna. 'It's not that at all! No, really, Aunt Adela, it's nothing as bad as that!'

'Look here,' said Giles, 'having said so much, don't you think it might be better to say the rest?'

'No, I don't! I've changed my mind. Oh, dear!' cried Corinna, pushing her hand through her short, fair hair. 'After all, it's not as though we've seen or, really, heard anything-anything which points to anybody's wickedness, I mean-so it would be awful of us to say anything. Anyway, we've got no proof.'

'No proof of who must have murdered Hubert, no,' said her cousin, 'but we can trust Great-aunt to do the best thing. I suggest we tell her, and then leave it to her.'

'We can't tell her something that I was told in confidence. I'm sorry I ever suggested we should.'

'You know,' said Giles, 'on thinking it over, I'm inclined to agree with Corinna. What she was told-in confidence, as she says-doesn't really amount to a hill of beans. It proves nothing except that people can be mistaken, or that they think they know something when, all the time, they don't. I don't think we ought to point the finger. The truth will come out at some time or another. It isn't for us to dirty our hands.'

'That's what I've been saying all along,' said Corin.

'On the other hand,' said Corinna, wavering, 'perhaps we should tell Great-aunt and leave her to see what she makes of it. After all, she's had lots of experience of these things, and we don't owe all that much to old Romilly.'

'It may not concern him,' said Giles. 'He may have had nothing to do with it. He talked as though he was as surprised as anybody.'

'He's a cagey old bird,' said Corin. 'I wouldn't trust him an inch. We really know nothing about him.'

'I myself,' admitted Dame Beatrice, 'knew nothing about him either before I was invited here.'

'Did he make you any promises?' asked Corin. 'Poor old Humphrey was livid about that job he was promised...'

'Not a job; only an interview, wasn't it?' said Giles. 'I'm not too pleased with Romilly myself.'

'He lent you a horse.'

'He promised to lend me enough to buy a share in some racing-stables.'

'Tancred isn't very pleased with him, either,' said Corinna, forgetting her agitation and beginning to giggle. 'He's terribly funny when he's cross. But you haven't given Great-aunt a chance to answer the question. Do tell us, Aunt Adela. Did he promise you anything?'

'Not in the sense you mean, but I feel that my visit here has been amply rewarded. I have made the acquaintance of Rosamund.'

'How delightful for you,' said Corin ironically. 'To my mind, she's just about the most fishy young female I've ever encountered. I'm pretty sure that at some time or other she's been on the stage. She's the hammiest half-baked pro who ever gave up the business to become an old man's darling. Once you've been on the stage yourself, you can't be deceived by another who has ever worn the buskins.'

'I myself have sometimes thought that Rosamund was putting on the motley for our benefit. How long have you known Romilly Lestrange?' asked Dame Beatrice, apparently changing the subject. 'You say you know nothing about him, and you are certainly not old enough to have known him before he emigrated to Kenya. I wonder whether Luke was in service with him there?'

'It's no good, Great-aunt Adela,' said Corinna, looking alarmed. 'You can't get us back to the subject of-to the subject that way. We're not going to say any more. It's my secret, and, although I've told the boys about it, they can't, in decency, give it away unless I agree, and I don't agree, and I'm sorry I said as much as I did. Corin's right, I am a panicky fool.'

'I myself had come to the conclusion that there is a secret,' said Dame Beatrice, 'and I have already set my wits to work. You see, perhaps there are three other wise monkeys in this house besides yourselves.' She leered benignly at Corinna, who said, nervously:

'Maybe there are, and maybe there aren't, but, if there are, I don't believe they'll be much inclined to talk, either. It isn't their business, anyway. I just got in a panic.'

'You were asking how long we'd known Uncle Romilly,' said Corin, under the impression that he was changing the subject. His sister scowled at him, but he went on: 'Not so very long, actually. We've been here once before, that's all, to what he called his house-warming. He'd just rented Galliard Hall and wanted to show it off.'

'And were all his relatives invited?'