‘Don’t mind me,’ said the Warden; but she herself was surprised at the result, especially of a skilful and artful application of Miss Cartwright’s rouge. ‘Dear me, I don’t think I’ve seen myself like this for thirty years.’
Kitty hung up the discarded blue and orange in the wardrobe.
‘Well, you see, you’ve got the bones all right,’ she said. ‘And your hair — not a touch of grey. And that frock, now, with the rouge, and your shoes are nice. I wish I could afford expensive shoes.’
Mrs Bradley kissed her — a brush against the smooth, young, earnest brow.
‘It’s kind of you to take the trouble, my dear,’ she said, and laughed again. ‘Has Miss Cloud…?’
‘Oh, the Deb’s a beauty… really a beauty,’ said Kitty. ‘Even at that ghastly little hairdresser’s she goes to they can’t really do much to muck her up. Of course, I took out their wave and re-set it… Well, I had better have my bath, I think, or Dog will be yelling her head off.’
Mrs Bradley gazed after her, still struggling with laughter, but when she saw Deborah she did not laugh; she moaned (to Deborah’s discomfiture) with appreciation of her loveliness.
‘You know,’ she said, holding Deborah off and looking her up and down, ‘we shall have to make sure that that child doesn’t waste her time teaching. Even the mouse-like Alice looks almost pretty tonight.’
Deborah looked at her suspiciously.
‘You’re up to something,’ she said.
‘I have been up to something,’ Mrs Bradley corrected her. ‘I have had Miss Cornflake put under guard.’
‘Arrested, do you mean?’
‘Not arrested, exactly; rather, illegally detained. Miss Topas, Miss Cartwright, Miss Menzies and Miss Boorman assisting, George and I have locked her up in the cellar of the chief engineer’s house, where George and the chief engineer are mounting guard until midnight.’
‘But won’t there be trouble about it?’
‘No. She thinks it is an Athelstan rag. George, Miss Topas and I did not appear. We merely made the plans to incarcerate her, and arranged for the necessary transport.’
‘But what on earth was your object in preventing her from going to the dance?’
‘I want to solve a mystery or two, and I want to be certain, for her own sake, that she is out of the way.’
‘Do you really suspect her of the murders?’
‘I don’t suspect her because I don’t know as much yet as I should like to. She may be as innocent as Miss Murchan was. And that, I may as well inform you, is a double-edged statement. But if she is innocent, it is as well to keep her safe and sound. Or don’t you think so?’
‘I think it’s a good thing you are friends with the police,’ said Deborah. ‘And what on earth will the Principal say? All the same, if you want any assistance in solving your mysteries…’
‘No, thank you, not from you. The inspector is coming to help me. He is bringing the sergeant and the police doctor, so I shall be perfectly safe.’
‘Can’t you tell me what you are going to do?’ asked Deborah, looking anxious.
‘I had better not, child. The very walls have ears.’
‘That’s not the reason. But I can see you’ve made up your mind to be obstinate.’
‘I’ve made up my mind I shall be late in meeting Miss Topas,’ said Mrs Bradley.
The dance was mildly entertaining, Deborah thought. The students were enjoying themselves. She herself, although she did not know it, filled Alice’s cup to overflowing by sitting next her at supper. Laura made a speech, and the Principal, at half past ten, ‘saw the light,’ as Laura insisted, and permitted announcement to be made of her permission for an extension to eleven-thirty. The students applauded. Miss Topas, dancing (very badly) with a clumsy-looking One-Year from her own Hall thought: ‘Oh, so she hasn’t found it.’ Mrs Bradley had withdrawn from the College Hall at half past eight as unobtrusively as she could, but the majority of the Athelstan students missed her before nine o’clock, and asked Deborah whether she was ‘all right’.
Deborah reassured them, but felt anxious, as the young are apt to do when they feel responsible for the safety and well-being of the elderly. She said to Miss Topas, when they met in a Paul Jones: ‘What’s she up to?’
Miss Topas replied irritatingly: ‘Elle cherche la femme,’ and grinned. Deborah scowled at her. ‘No, really, it’s completely hush-hush,’ Miss Topas continued.
‘Come into the staff-room and tell me, while I tidy my hair.’
‘Nothing doing. Oh, Lord. The merry-go-round again! See you later!’ And they separated into their respective circles.
She dodged Deborah the next time their orbits intersected in the dance, and seized a fat student from Bede. Deborah grimaced at her, but was almost swept off her feet by a muscular captain of hockey, who gripped her purposefully and swung her relentlessly into a polka which the orchestra, with what Deborah could only classify as a misplaced sense of fun, had suddenly introduced instead of the waltzes and fox trots with which the Paul Jones had, so far, got along so nicely. The muscular student then took Deborah out to the buffet for an ice, and when they returned to the dancing floor Miss Topas had disappeared. She reappeared again in the doorway at twenty-five past ten and went across to speak to the Principal. At half past ten the announcement was made of the ‘first extension night in the long and glorious history of the College’ (Laura).
Deborah buttonholed Miss Topas.
‘What’s been happening? What’s come over Miss du Mugne? The Second-Years say she never extends the time.’
Miss Topas, who was looking pleased with herself, said brightly: ‘Nothing. Come over to Columba with me for a drink.’
‘On condition you tell me what has been happening,’ said Deborah. Miss Topas took her arm and pulled her gently out into the passage.
‘I’ve been to take some nourishment to the Athelstan prisoner,’ she said. ‘It’s cold across the grounds. The wind’s changed. It’s in the east. Put your coat on, and tie something over your hair.’
‘The Athelstan prisoner? What are you talking about?’
‘Nothing. I’m merely babbling. Come on! What a time you take!’
It was dark, as well as cold, across the grounds, and seemed a good step from the College to Columba. There was a light, however, in the window of Miss Topas’s sitting-room, which seemed to beckon and welcome, and Miss Topas had her latch-key and opened the front door wide.
‘Come on. Don’t stop to wipe your feet,’ she said in a voice in which Deborah recognized excitement.
Miss Topas switched on the light in the passage, shut the front door and led the way to her sitting-room. A man rose from her most comfortable arm-chair as they went in.
‘Hullo, Deborah,’ he said. ‘Aunt Adela sent for me, and told me to fetch up here.’
‘Hullo, Jonathan! Whatever you’re doing here, or think you’re doing, I don’t see why you have to explain yourself,’ Deborah said, with a laugh to hide the fact that she was blushing.
‘I’ll go and get the drinks,’ said Miss Topas, going on the instant, and closing the door behind her.
‘Sit down, Deborah. Or, rather, don’t. At least, not yet,’ said Jonathan, advancing.
Before Deborah could avoid it, he had taken her in his arms, and, with a most disconcerting amount of enterprise, swinging her slightly sideways, so that her head was firmly against his upper arm, he kissed her with an enthusiasm which caused Miss Topas, coming in with the tray of drinks, to click her tongue regretfully and to observe that her sitting-room was not a film studio. She then put down the tray, seized Deborah (who seemed uncertain whether to launch an attack upon the intrepid wooer or whether to cry) and embraced her more gently and a good deal less disturbingly than she had been embraced by the ardent young man.