Annie Haynes Premium Collection – 8 Murder Mysteries in One Volume. Annie Haynes
“she wanted to show us where she was buried.”
“Well, of all things, Alice Brown!” said Mrs. Parkyns with uplifted hands. “What are you going to say next, I wonder? A pack of rubbish! Buried, indeed!”
Minnie Spencer was still clinging to Greyson’s arm, seeming to derive some comfort from the contact. Gregory had halted a few paces in apparent discomfiture; even in that dim light it was obvious that his tanned complexion had altered to one of a curious leaden pallor.
“Nurse Marston’s ghost in the shrubbery!” he repeated, staring at them. “Minnie, it can’t be true!”
“True!” echoed Greyson, as Minnie at last raised herself and drew away from him. “I have heard you jeer at us country folk for superstition, Jim Gregory, but I tell you if Mary Marston is in the shrubbery it is herself and no ghost. I am going to see into it, I can tell you that. Don’t you frighten yourself, Minnie, I’ll soon find your ghost and settle it for you. Anybody like to come with me?”
Two stable-men who had lately been added to the group volunteered, and so did Gregory, after a moment’s hesitation, which did not pass unremarked by Greyson.
They were gone some little time—it seemed hours to the waiting women as they stood there wondering what the next news might be; but at last they heard the footsteps returning.
“Well, Mr. Greyson, what news?” Mrs. Parkyns called out as they came round the corner.
“None at all, ma’am. We have been all over the shrubbery and we haven’t seen so much as a sign of anybody or anything,” said Greyson in a reassuring tone.
“I never thought you would,” Mrs. Parkyns responded, with a relieved air. “You dreamt it all, you two girls, that is about it—a pair of geese! Well, I’m much obliged to you for your trouble, Mr. Greyson. As to you, Minnie Spencer, I suppose now you have put yourself into this state you won’t dare to go down to the village, and that nice pudding I gave you for your mother will be wasted, to say nothing of those eggs you have spoilt! Well, well!”
Minnie was standing by Gregory, who had drawn her hand through his arm. Greyson reached over and took the basket from her.
“I’ll take your pudding for you, Minnie,” he said gruffly. “I have got to go down to Lockford, and I will bring you word how your mother is before I go my rounds.”
Chapter XII
“It is only what I expected!” Garth Davenant’s face was very grave as he stood before the mantelpiece and looked at Mavis’s anxious face. “What does your mother say about it, Mavis?”
“Oh, mother is in dreadful trouble! You know how she always hoped it would be Dorothy; in fact, I think she had persuaded herself that it was quite a settled thing, and that was how it was she never minded Hilda’s being here. But why do you say you expected it, Garth?”
Davenant shrugged his shoulders.
“It is not an unusual thing when a young man as impressionable as Arthur is thrown into the daily and hourly companionship of a beautiful woman older than himself.”
“Garth!” Mavis interrupted him with a little cry. “Hilda herself does not know her age, and we can only guess, but we feel quite sure that she is not more than nineteen. She says herself that ‘twenty’ sounds unfamiliar.”
“Oh, yes. I should fancy it is a good while since that particular number was used in connexion with her age,” remarked Davenant dryly.
Mavis looked at him with amazed eyes.
“What do you mean, Garth? I am sure she does not look more—”
“Are you?” Garth said cynically. “Well, I must confess that I have not the unquestioning faith of the inhabitants of Hargreave Manor, and I have studied your fair friend’s face on one or two occasions in the open sunlight, away from the couches and subdued lights she usually affects, and I think she is considerably older than you imagine.”
“Oh, don’t!” exclaimed Mavis miserably. “You make me feel so unhappy, Garth—as if I ought not to believe in anyone!”
Her lover put out his arm and drew her to him.
“I am a suspicious, world-hardened wretch, Mavis, am I not? I don’t want any trouble to come to you that I can help, and I am afraid—”
“Afraid that trouble will come if Arthur married her?” Mavis finished, her head resting against his shoulder.
“I feel sure of it if he should be mad enough to contemplate such a step before something is known about her,” said Davenant in alarm. “But I hardly thought matters had got so far as that even from your account.”
Mavis raised her head.
“Hilda seemed to want to wait until things were cleared up, but Arthur seems quite determined that the engagement shall be announced at once—and he is his own master. I am afraid that mother’s remonstrances only made him more positive. What she implied about Dorothy only annoyed him so much he said he had made up his mind that there should be no more misconception. Don’t you think you may be mistaken about Hilda, Garth? I know it sounds a mad sort of thing for Arthur to do—to marry a woman we know nothing about; but I must say that to a certain extent I cannot help sympathizing with him. Hilda is so very pretty and charming that I feel positive if I were a man I should want to marry her myself.”
“I should certainly interfere to prevent you,” said Garth, laughing and catching her hand. “Seriously, darling, cannot you see how queer the whole business is? Here is this girl, dropped apparently from the clouds on your doorstep, and nobody makes the smallest inquiry after her. One would naturally have supposed that if a girl of our class, as she appears to be, were missing, there would be such a hue and cry after her that the whole country would be roused, yet, though a description has been published and advertisements inserted, you get no reply from her friends at all!”
“Yes, yes. I know it sounds strange,” Mavis admitted at once. “But I am sure there is some satisfactory explanation of it all. Hilda and I were talking about it yesterday, and we came to the conclusion that there must have been some wrongdoing somewhere. Perhaps she may be heiress to some property which some one else wants to secure, and they may have treated her in some way that reduced her to the state she was in. Very likely they think she is dead!”
Garth’s lips curled curiously.
“I fancy I could pick a few holes in that theory, Mavis. However, shall we say no more about it? Time may prove that you are right and I am wrong. In the meantime before the wedding we will set all our wits to work. We must save Arthur from this folly if possible.”
“Oh, dear!” Mavis said with a sigh as she turned away her head.
“What is the matter with you, Mavis?” Garth’s voice was very tender, his clasp grew closer.
Mavis moved restlessly.
“Everything is so altered, Garth,” she complained miserably. “And it is such a little time ago since we were so happy; but now the very air of the Manor seems full of mystery and suspicion. One does not know whom to trust.”
Garth’s hand smoothed her brown hair gently.
“One thing is not altered, I hope, Mavis—our love for one another.”
Mavis’s fingers lingered on his arm caressingly.
“Oh, no! That is the same always; but, Garth, sometimes it seems hardly right for me to be happy in your love when I am afraid that Dorothy—”
Davenant’s dark face clouded.
“Hush, child! Poor little Dorothy! We must have patience and it will all come right some time.”
Mavis