She jerked her thoughts away and heard Cosmo say,
“Nightmare, not art, my dear Miss Silver.”
Miss Silver crumbled her bread.
“I speak under correction of course-but is it not the aim of the Surrealists to present those ideas which are commonly submerged in the unconscious mind?”
Cosmo laughed.
“And very unpleasant minds they must have, if the ideas are a fair sample.”
Miss Silver gave a slight cough.
“Just a little like the Day of Judgment, if I may say so without irreverence-the secrets of all hearts being opened.” She continued to crumble the bread. “If our thoughts-our intimate, secret thoughts-were to take shape and stand before us now, I wonder what we should think of them.”
Cosmo smiled his most genial smile. It was turned upon Rachel.
“You at least would be safe, my dear. I can imagine that your thoughts would make charming pictures.”
Rachel felt an almost physical pang. “My thoughts? Oh, God!” There was a horrified moment when she wondered if she had spoken the words aloud. Her thoughts- fear, suspicion, agony, resentment, terror-how dreadfully might these take shape.
Cosmo was still leaning to her and smiling.
“Singing birds and lilies, my dear.”
Ernest Wadlow straightened his pince-nez.
“It is an interesting theory. I remember discussing it with Dr. Levitas. He compared the balance of Mabel’s mind, I remember, to a chime of silver bells. She was very much pleased with the image. We both thought it a very apt one. The least disturbing element, and the delicate tuning suffers. I remember quoting Shakespeare’s ‘Sweet bells jangled out of tune.’ ”
Ella Comperton fixed him with an offended stare.
“Good heavens, Ernest-what will you say next? That was Ophelia, and she was mad. There has never been any madness in our family.”
Richard Treherne pushed back his chair, excused himself briefly, and went out. Rachel, listening, heard him go up the stair. Ernest was still talking, but she had lost the thread. Her mind seemed to have closed, and what came through was meaningless sound which made no sense.
The telephone bell rang, and she got up to answer it with relief. With the receiver at her ear, she heard Cherry’s light laugh, like the echo of a laugh from a very long way off.
“That you, Rachel? I haven’t a minute. I’m speaking from a perfectly foul call-box right off the map. There’s a village, but I don’t know what it’s called.”
The familiar desire to box Cherry’s ears restored Rachel to her normal self. She said quite sharply,
“What are you doing there?”
“My dear, what does one do in a call-box? I’m telephoning. It smells of paint and shag.”
“What do you want?” said Rachel.
The light laugh came along the wire.
“My dear-how practical! Well, I thought the parents would like to know that Bob and I were married this morning. The most expensive sort of special licence-to make up for no bridesmaids. And tell Mummy it was in a church, because Bob’s Aunt Matilda would have altered her will if it had been a register office-at least Bob said she would, so I gave in.”
“Cherry, do you really mean all this?”
“ Absolutely. Tell Mummy to save all fits for the divorce.”
Rachel hung up and came back to her place. She addressed Ernest in a perfectly expressionless voice.
“Cherry has married Bob Hedderwick. You had better let Mabel finish her lunch before you tell her.”
Ella Comperton uttered a faint shriek.
“But he was engaged to Mildred Ross! Cherry was going to be a bridesmaid!”
A spark came and went in Rachel’s eyes.
“A little thing like that wouldn’t worry her.”
Ernest Wadlow said nothing. His pince-nez fell off. His mouth fell open.
Miss Silver turned her head to listen. The faint sound which she had caught became a sound which everyone could hear-the clatter of feet on the stair-running feet. The door was flung open and Richard Treherne came half way into the room. He looked for Rachel, and spoke to her in a loud, angry voice.
“She’s gone! Taken her car! She shouldn’t have been left-she wasn’t fit!”
They were all up and round him. Rachel put a hand on his arm, and felt it rigid.
She said “Caroline?” on a mere breath of sound. “Are you sure?”
His face frightened her. He shook off her hand.
“I tell you her car’s gone! And she’s not fit to drive. What’s going on in this house? What have you done to her?”
“Richard,” said Rachel-“please. You must go after her.”
He said violently, “Where? Do you suppose I’d lose a moment if I knew where to go? She gave up her flat last month. Where would she go?”
Miss Silver came forward.
“Where did she garage her car when she was in London?”
Richard flung round.
“I’ll try that. I’ll try and catch her on the road.”
He was gone.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Rachel stood quite still and looked after him. She was aware of Miss Silver leaving the room and going upstairs. Ernest Wadlow went past her, making small nervous sounds of disapproval. It was a relief to feel that Cherry’s elopement would be likely to keep him occupied for the rest of the afternoon. Mabel would certainly be prostrated, and a prostrated Mabel meant an attendant Ernest. Neither of them would have time to think about Caroline.
Caroline-she winced away from the name-Caroline in trouble should have run to her, not away. But she had run away. Why?
Miss Silver was there again, a little out of breath.
“I went to see if she had left a note. There is nothing.”
Rachel looked at her with wretched eyes.
“Why did she go?”
“She knew something, Miss Treherne.”
“How do you know that?”
“She did not deny it. I urged her to speak. She wept, and buried her face in her pillow. I foolishly gave her time to think it over. She has used it to run away. If she is running away she will want to hide herself. Do you know what money she has?”
Rachel shook her head. Her lips were trembling. She caught the lower one between her teeth and held it hard.
“Not much,” said Cosmo Frith. He addressed Miss Silver. “I know she hadn’t much money, because she asked me yesterday whether I could let her have five pounds as a loan.”
“Then she had five pounds.”
“Oh, no-” he laughed a little-“I hadn’t got it myself.”
Miss Silver’s eyes went from him to Rachel.
“Then where would she go-without money?”
Rachel said, “I don’t know.”
Cosmo Frith shook his head.
“With your permission,” said Miss Silver, “I will make a more thorough examination of the room she has been occupying.”
Ella Comperton finished the glass of wine which she had poured out for herself. She put out her hand to the decanter and drew it back again.
“Girls are quite unaccountable,” she said. “Of course nothing that Cherry did would surprise me. I always said that girl would come to a bad end. But Caroline-she seemed quiet enough. As a matter of fact they are often the worst. No manners-running off in the middle of lunch like this and disturbing everyone, though I don’t know why you should look so tragic about it, Rachel. It’s quite obvious to my mind that she and Richard have quarrelled, and that they are now going to make it up. Exceedingly ill bred and mannerless I call it, but no need to be tragic. Well, I shall go to my room and lie down. I don’t seem to get on very fast with all the literature Mrs. Barber has lent me, but I do find it so difficult to keep awake in this strong air.”