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"It is my house," said Richard. They all discovered his presence. "Your house, dear Rrchud?" exclaimed Lady Arabel. "Are you sure? I didn't know the Higginses had any house property on Mitten Island." "They haven't now," replied Richard. "But never mind. It has always seemed to me that there were too many houses in the world.
"Lady 'Iggins, did you say your son left your 'ouse at nine forty-five P.M. last night?" "Yes, but " "Thenk you, my lady." "You seem to me dretfully impertinent," said Lady Arabel. "This is not a court of law. My son Rrchud left the house with me and our guest to seek shelter from the raid." "Thenk you, my lady," repeated the policeman coldly, and turned to Miss Ford.
The conductor turned out to have rather a pleasing tenor voice. The witch and Sarah Brown knocked at the Higgins' door five minutes before supper-time. Lady Arabel herself opened it. "My dears, isn't it too dretful. All our servants are gone. It's an extraordinary thing, they never can stand Rrchud and his ways." The tactful Sarah Brown nudged the witch. "Better not stay," she murmured.
For a long time there was nothing to be heard but Sarah Brown, murmuring to her Dog David. You must excuse her, and remember that she lived most utterly alone. She was locked inside herself, and the solitary barred window in her prison wall commanded only a view of the Dog David. Rrchud's mother said at last: "I really came to tell you that Rrchud came back on leave unexpectedly last night.
This young person needs no assistance from us." She turned to the Stranger, and added: "My dear, I am dretfully ashamed. You must meet my son Rrchud.... My son Rrchud knows...." She burst into tears. The Stranger took her hand. "I should like awfully to meet Rrchud, and to get to know you better," she said. She grew very red. "I say, I should be awfully pleased if you would call me Angela."
Yes, it was. Rrchud was an impossible boy, born on an impossible day, in an impossible place. Ah, my poor Rrchud.... My dears, I am talking dretful nonsense. We were mad. You'd have to know Pinehurst, really, to understand it. Ah, we can never find our mountain again. I can never forgive Pinehurst...." "You can never repay Pinehurst," said the witch. Lady Arabel did not seem to hear.
"Why yes, of course I had a dinner-party; why shouldn't I? My son Rrchud, a private in the London Rifles, this young lady, Miss Angela er , and her friend such a good quiet creature...." "And 'oo else was in the 'ouse?" asked the policeman, glancing haughtily at the witch. "Oh nobody, nobody. The servants all gave notice and left too dretfully tahsome how they can't stand Rrchud and his ways.
Too funny how people take dear Rrchud seriously. I'm glad to say the orchestra has stayed with us. Come into Rrchud's study, won't you, while I just go and help the first violin to dish up the soup." Sarah Brown and the witch were left in a small room that opened on to the great hall. It was furnished rather like a lodging-house parlour.
Of course you must meet him " "Rrchud home!" exclaimed Miss Ford. "How odd! I was just telling Miss Watkins about his Power, and how strongly she reminded me of him. Do tell him to keep Wednesday afternoon free." Lady Arabel, ignoring Miss Ford by mistake, said to the witch: "Will you come on Tuesday to tea or supper?" "Supper, please," said the witch instantly.
Lady Arabel and Sarah Brown crossed the road to the church, Richard following a few yards behind. "I'm afraid my little dinner-party wasn't a great success," said Lady Arabel confidentially. "Rrchud and Angela didn't get that good talk on occult subjects as Meta Ford said they would.
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