Read Online Duplicate Death by Georgette Heyer - Free Book Online
Authors: Georgette Heyer
Ads: Link
Harte your mother?" demanded Guisborough abruptly. "I can't say I've read any of her books, but I've heard of her. She knows Equatorial Africa pretty well, doesn't she? What are her views on the native question? Or hasn't she any?"
Timothy had not read his mother's books either, but he was not going to put up with this sort of thing. He replied with deceptive readiness: "Oh, rather! I believe she's very sound. In fact, if you're thinking of a safari you couldn't do better than to consult her. She'll tell you which tribes make the best carriers, and what you want to look out for in your headman, and what are the main pitfalls: Christianised boys, boys who try to talk English to you, and sit down in your chairs - that sort of thing!"
"That," said Guisborough, reddening angrily, "is not what I meant! I was referring - though possibly this might not interest Lady Harte! - to -"
"Oh, do shut up about Africa and natives!" interrupted Cynthia. "I do think all that sort of thing is too boring!"
Mrs. Haddington, although she could not but be glad of the intervention, uttered a reproving exclamation, looking rather anxiously at her daughter as she did so. Cynthia was in one of her petulant moods, rejecting most of the dishes offered to her, fidgeting with the cutlery, and taking no pains at all to be polite to her mother's guests.
"Tired, baby?" asked Seaton-Carew, smiling at her across the table. "I suppose you've been on the go since breakfast-time, as usual?"
"I'm afraid she has," said Mrs. Haddington. "I think I shall have to have the telephone dismantled! It never stops ringing from morning till night, and always it's scinuxme wanting my frivolous daughter, isn't it, Miss Birtly?"
"Always," responded Beulah obediently.
"Oh, Mummy, what lies you do tell!" said Cynthia, hunching a pettish shoulder.
"That reminds me," said Seaton-Carew, with what even Mr. Harte acknowledged to be praiseworthy swiftness, "I've been cursing the telephone all day myself. Been expecting an important call, which hasn't come through. I've told the Exchange to put any calls for me through to this number, Lilias. I knew you wouldn't mind."
In this he was mistaken. Mrs. Haddington might be grateful to him for trying to cover up her daughter's lapse, but she could scarcely be expected to contemplate with pleasure the prospect of seeing the smooth running of her Bridge-party disturbed by the interruption of a telephone-call. Her response, though civil, was so lacking in cordiality that even Lord Guisborough became conscious of an atmosphere of constraint. However, Timothy was inspired to ask Cynthia if she had seen the latest gangster-film, showing at the Orpheum, a gambit which dispelled her ill-humour, and induced her to launch forth into an animated and enthusiastic discussion on this and several other films of the same order. The rest of dinner passed without untoward incident. Mrs. Haddington rose from the table, playfully apologising for not being able to allow her male guests more than ten minutes with the port, and inviting them to join her in her boudoir for coffee. She then led the way out of the room, and while Cynthia went up to her bedroom to put more powder on her face and to exaggerate the already beautiful curve of her upper lip, she reminded Beulah what her various duties would be during the rest of the evening. Obedient to her command, Seaton-Carew brought his fellow-guests up to the boudoir in good time; and Thrimby, leaving a couple of flurried subordinates to clear away the remains of dinner and transform the dining-room into a refreshment buffet, followed him with the coffee-tray, which he majestically offered to everyone in turn. Cynthia reappeared just as he was leaving the room, and nearly caused Seaton-Carew to spill his coffee by seizing his free hand and saying: "Oh, Dan darling, I've something frightfully important I want to tell you! Do come up to the drawing-room!"
"Not now, my pet," said Mrs. Haddington firmly. "You
Timothy had not read his mother's books either, but he was not going to put up with this sort of thing. He replied with deceptive readiness: "Oh, rather! I believe she's very sound. In fact, if you're thinking of a safari you couldn't do better than to consult her. She'll tell you which tribes make the best carriers, and what you want to look out for in your headman, and what are the main pitfalls: Christianised boys, boys who try to talk English to you, and sit down in your chairs - that sort of thing!"
"That," said Guisborough, reddening angrily, "is not what I meant! I was referring - though possibly this might not interest Lady Harte! - to -"
"Oh, do shut up about Africa and natives!" interrupted Cynthia. "I do think all that sort of thing is too boring!"
Mrs. Haddington, although she could not but be glad of the intervention, uttered a reproving exclamation, looking rather anxiously at her daughter as she did so. Cynthia was in one of her petulant moods, rejecting most of the dishes offered to her, fidgeting with the cutlery, and taking no pains at all to be polite to her mother's guests.
"Tired, baby?" asked Seaton-Carew, smiling at her across the table. "I suppose you've been on the go since breakfast-time, as usual?"
"I'm afraid she has," said Mrs. Haddington. "I think I shall have to have the telephone dismantled! It never stops ringing from morning till night, and always it's scinuxme wanting my frivolous daughter, isn't it, Miss Birtly?"
"Always," responded Beulah obediently.
"Oh, Mummy, what lies you do tell!" said Cynthia, hunching a pettish shoulder.
"That reminds me," said Seaton-Carew, with what even Mr. Harte acknowledged to be praiseworthy swiftness, "I've been cursing the telephone all day myself. Been expecting an important call, which hasn't come through. I've told the Exchange to put any calls for me through to this number, Lilias. I knew you wouldn't mind."
In this he was mistaken. Mrs. Haddington might be grateful to him for trying to cover up her daughter's lapse, but she could scarcely be expected to contemplate with pleasure the prospect of seeing the smooth running of her Bridge-party disturbed by the interruption of a telephone-call. Her response, though civil, was so lacking in cordiality that even Lord Guisborough became conscious of an atmosphere of constraint. However, Timothy was inspired to ask Cynthia if she had seen the latest gangster-film, showing at the Orpheum, a gambit which dispelled her ill-humour, and induced her to launch forth into an animated and enthusiastic discussion on this and several other films of the same order. The rest of dinner passed without untoward incident. Mrs. Haddington rose from the table, playfully apologising for not being able to allow her male guests more than ten minutes with the port, and inviting them to join her in her boudoir for coffee. She then led the way out of the room, and while Cynthia went up to her bedroom to put more powder on her face and to exaggerate the already beautiful curve of her upper lip, she reminded Beulah what her various duties would be during the rest of the evening. Obedient to her command, Seaton-Carew brought his fellow-guests up to the boudoir in good time; and Thrimby, leaving a couple of flurried subordinates to clear away the remains of dinner and transform the dining-room into a refreshment buffet, followed him with the coffee-tray, which he majestically offered to everyone in turn. Cynthia reappeared just as he was leaving the room, and nearly caused Seaton-Carew to spill his coffee by seizing his free hand and saying: "Oh, Dan darling, I've something frightfully important I want to tell you! Do come up to the drawing-room!"
"Not now, my pet," said Mrs. Haddington firmly. "You
Similar Books
