False Scent by Ngaio Marsh Read Free Book Online Page A

called Formidable in her hands. She tip-toed across the room, put it on the dressing-table and stood for a moment looking at Miss Bellamy. Beyond the chaise-longue in the bay-window were ranks of tulips and budding azaleas and among them stood the tin of Slaypest. To secure it, Florence had to lean across her mistress. She did so, delicately, but Miss Bellamy, at that moment, stirred. Florence drew back and tip-toed out of the room.
    Old Ninn was on the landing. She folded her arms and stared up at Florence.
    “Asleep,” Florence said, with a jerk of her head. “Gone to bye-byes.”
    “Always the same after tantrums,” said Old Ninn. She added woodenly, “She’ll be the ruin of that boy.”
    “She’ll be the ruin of herself,” said Florence, “if she doesn’t watch her step.”
    When Miss Bellamy had gone, Anelida, in great distress, turned to her uncle. Octavius was humming a little Elizabethan catch and staring at himself in a Jacobean looking-glass above his desk.
    “Captivating!” he said. “Enchanting! Upon my word, Nell, it must be twenty years since a pretty woman made much of me. I feel, I promise you, quite giddily inclined. And the whole thing-so spontaneous: so touchingly impulsive! We have widened our horizon, my love.”
    “Unk,” Anelida said rather desperately, “you can’t think, my poor blessing, what a muddle you’ve made.”
    “A
muddle
?” He looked plaintively at her and she knew she was in for trouble. “What do you mean? I accept an invitation, most graciously extended by a charming woman. Pray where is the muddle?” She didn’t answer and he said,
    “There are certain matters, of course, to be considered. I do not, for instance, know what clothes are proper, nowadays, for cocktail parties. In my day one would have worn…”
    “It’s not a matter of clothes.”
    “No? In any case, you shall instruct me.”
    “I’ve already told Richard I can’t go to the party.”
    “Nonsense, my dear. Of course we can go,” Octavius said. “What are you thinking of?”
    “It’s so hard to explain, Unky. It’s just that — well, it’s partly because of me being in the theatre only so very much at the bottom of the ladder — less than the dust, you know, beneath Miss B.’s chariot wheels. I’d be like a corporal in the officers’ mess.”
    “That,” said Octavius, reddening with displeasure, “seems to me to be a false analogy, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, Nelly. And, my dear, when one quotes it is pleasant to borrow from reputable sources. The
Indian Love Lyrics
, in my undergraduate days, were the scourge of the drawing-rooms.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “It would be extremely uncivil to refuse so kind an invitation,” Octavius said, looking more and more like a spoilt and frustrated child. “I
want
to accept it. What is the matter with you, Anelida?”
    “The truth is,” Anelida said rather desperately, “I don’t quite know where I am with Richard Dakers.”
    Octavius stared at her and experienced a moment of truth. “Now that I consider it,” he said huffily, “I realize that Dakers is paying his addresses to you. I wonder that it hasn’t occurred to me before. Have you taken against him?”
    To her dismay Anelida found herself on the brink of tears. “No!” she cried. “No! Nothing like that — really, I mean — I mean I just don’t know…” She looked helplessly at Octavius. He was, she knew, hovering on the edge of one of his rare fits of temper. His vanity had been tickled by Miss Bellamy. He had almost strutted and preened before her. Anelida, who loved him very much, could have shaken him.
    “Never mind,” she said. “It’s not worth another thought. But I’m sorry, darling, if you’re put out over your lovely party.”
    “I am put out,” Octavius said crossly. “I want to go.”
    “And you shall go. I’ll do your tie and make you look beautiful.”
    “My dear,” Octavius said, “it is you who would have looked beautiful. It