The Riddle of the Deplorable Dandy

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headache.”
    â€œPoor creature.” Madame, who had often remarked that she could not understand people who complained of such afflictions, declared, “I am sure I have never suffered a headache in my life. Indeed, I would likely not recognize one if it should descend upon me. But I have to admit you are pale, my love. I hope you will feel able to join us at the theatre this evening. The Wisters are to take us up at a quarter to eight o’clock. You’ll remember them from the Bottesdale party. Such lovely people, and spoke of you most highly.”
    â€œI do indeed remember them,” replied Elspeth, with more tact than truthfulness. “Although I have to own, Godmama, that my memory for faces does not always serve me well. For instance, only yesterday when I was walking in the park with Lieutenant Skye he was telling me of a friend of his, a clergyman whom he judges to be a most worthy young gentleman. You very likely would know him if I could tell you his name, but all I can recall is that he is tall and has an uncle who is a famous peer. Lord … um—now whatever was the name…? It began with a ‘G,’ I think. I feel so stupid when I forget someone’s name!”
    â€œLord ‘G,’” murmured Madame, toying with her cheese puff. “I love puzzles! Now let me think … a famous peer with a tall clerical nephew. So many younger sons enter the clergy … Hmm … There is Garland, you know—his nephew is a vicar somewhere—oh, but he is short and stout, as I recall, and Thomas Garland is a baronet, not a peer.” After several more abortive attempts, she said with a sigh that she could only call to mind Lord Geoffrey Boudreaux. “He has a young relative who is chaplain to somebody or other, but he is Geoffrey Boudreaux’s grandnephew, not—”
    â€œThat sounds right,” said Elspeth eagerly. “Do you know what is the clergyman’s name, ma’am?”
    â€œHe’s a Fitz, I believe … FitzMorley or—no! FitzWilliam! And, my goodness, yes! A tall, and very shy young man. Can that be the one?”
    â€œIt is! Oh, it is!” Elspeth clapped her hands, and feeling very devious she trilled, “How clever you are, my dearest godmama! The Reverend Mr. FitzWilliam Boudreaux. I should have wracked my brains forever and never called it to mind!” And, astonished, she thought, ‘And now I even know what he looks like, for he must be the very bashful individual who was with that horrid Dandy in the park! What a coincidence that I have already been introduced to the gentleman!’
    â€œYou are looking much better,” said Madame smilingly. “I am so glad, for I’ve heard the play is delightful and the Pirate is handsome as can be, so you will surely enjoy it.”
    As she went up to bed later that evening, however, it would have been difficult for Elspeth to call to mind either the actors or the plot of The Pirate and the Princess. She had managed to respond appropriately to the flattering kindness shown her by Mr. and Mrs. Wister as they drove to the theatre together, but throughout the performance her concentration had been upon the problem of how she was to get to the tavern in Fleetwell Village.
    Madame scanned her rather anxiously as she took up her candle at the foot of the stairs. “I think the Wisters were charmed, my love,” she said. “You were very quiet, which they thought was a becoming shyness. But I suspected your headache had returned. Does it still distress you? Or is it that you are anxious for Mr. Drew?”
    Elspeth, having formed a daring plan, said with a smile that she did have a touch of the headache still, probably because she had been for so long away from the noise and bustle of life in the great City. And with Madame’s fond assurances that a good night’s sleep would put things to rights, she climbed to her

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