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He explained that other matters had upset his temper that day, and he had momentarily yielded to an irritated belief that everything was against him. Helen watched him enter the park; she pretended that she was going in to Mrs. Eastham's. She could see the lighted windows of the library, and she wondered why he did not go inside, but imagined that at the distance she might easily be mistaken.
In a country village on such an occasion, a swallow-tailed coat was a passe-partout, as many gentry had come in from the surrounding district." "Yes, that is so," broke in Hume. Brett momentarily looked through him, and the detective shook his head to deprecate any further interruption. "He could not enter Mrs. Eastham's house, for there everybody knew everybody else.
The young men were in a state of white heat, but David sensibly withdrew, and walked to the Hall. "Mrs. Eastham's house was close to the lodge gates, and from the lodge a straight yew-shaded drive led to the library windows, the main entrance being at the side of the house.
The hotel groom went to the horse's head. He did not hear the barrister's question: "I suppose both you and your cousin quitted Mrs. Eastham's house by that side-door and entered the park through the wicket?" "Yes," assented Hume, "though I fail to see why you should hit upon the side-door rather than the main entrance." "Because the ball-room is built out at the back. It was originally a granary.
Quite a minute elapsed before he began again. "What caused the trouble at Mrs. Eastham's ball?" "I think I can explain that. It seems that Alan's father told him to get married " "Told him!" "Well, left instructions." "How?" "I do not know. I only gathered as much from my cousin's remarks.
Now, there cannot be the slightest doubt that a poacher named John Wise, better known as 'Rabbit Jack, who resides in this town, chose that New Year's Eve as an excellent time to net the meadows behind the Hall. He had heard about Mrs. Eastham's dance, and knew that on such a night the estate keepers would have more liking for fun with the coachmen and maids than for game-watching.
Eastham's house, where the barrister still stood drawing on his gloves on the doorstep. "Yes," said Brett aloud, "you are an egregious ass, Winter." "Why, Mr. Brett?" asked the unabashed detective. "Isn't the make-up good?" "It is the make-up that always leads you astray. You never theorise above the level of the Police Gazette." Mr. Winter yielded to not unnatural annoyance.
"That wretched night, after she returned home, Helen thought she had behaved foolishly in creating a scene. She put on a cloak, changed her shoes, and slipped back again to Mrs. Eastham's, where she met Alan just coming away. She implored him to make up the quarrel with me. He apologised for his conduct, and promised to do the same to me when we met.
"Please do not take the blame of my intrusion, Mr. Brett," said Margaret, with forced composure. "You will stay for luncheon, will you not? And you, Davie? Are you at Mrs. Eastham's?" Her concluding question was eager, almost wistful. Her cousin answered it first. "No," he said. "We have driven over from Stowmarket." "And, unfortunately," put in the barrister, "we are pledged to visit Mrs.
She tore it up, and at the same time accepted it so far as I was concerned. We met at Mrs. Eastham's house that good lady has remained my firm friend throughout and I don't mind telling you, Brett, that I broke down utterly. Well, we began by sending messages to each other through Mrs. Eastham. Then I forwarded to Helen, in the same way, a copy of a rough diary of my travels.
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