Read Online The Santa Klaus Murder by Mavis Doriel Hay - Free Book Online Page B

the costume which had caused so much trouble. I don’t think he liked the idea very much, but it was Sir Osmond’s wish. Considering all the trouble Sir Osmond had been put to over this Santa Klaus business, and how he’d spent a long time planning it out, I didn’t think the family seemed very grateful to him. The Hon. Mrs. George Melbury had a lot to say about her children being so highly strung that they couldn’t stand a lot of excitement and little Clare’s bedtime must not on any account be upset. Lady Evershot, who has no little ones of her own, is never behindhand in giving her opinion about other people’s, and she seemed to have some idea that Santa Klaus was old-fashioned and the children would see through him. Well, I must say I like a bit of old-fashioned fun at this festive season myself.
    Mrs. Stickland fell in better than the others with her father’s ideas, but Mr. Stickland had some jokes with the children about looking for smuts on Santa Klaus’ nose, because he came down the chimney, and wanted to take the stag’s antlers that Sir Osmond shot in Scotland from the study wall and fix them on his head with the bearskin rug over him—what he called local colour. Sir Osmond was a bit put out over that. “I won’t have you playing the fool, Gordon,” he said. “This is not one of your modern pantomimes. Let the children use their imagination.”
    â€œOnly Oliver is licensed to play the fool on this occasion,” Mr. Cheriton said. “And he enjoys it less than anyone.” Which was rather hard on Mr. Witcombe, I thought.
    The Christmas-tree was stood in the library, and Bingham had fixed it up with little coloured lights, all electric. After lunch Mr. Witcombe went off to put on the red robe and the beard, and so on, and Mr. Cheriton went to help him. Sir Osmond had us all say good-bye to Mr. Witcombe, because he wanted the children to think that he had really gone away and Santa Klaus was a new person, so to speak. So we all said we were sorry he couldn’t stay, and Lady Evershot said she hoped the journey wouldn’t be too difficult. Then little Kit called out, “Mr. Witcombe hasn’t packed! I looked just before lunch and he hasn’t had a chance since! He can’t go without his tooth-brush.”
    Mrs. Stickland quieted him by saying that we hoped Mr. Witcombe would be able to come back that night. Then Kit wanted to know what sort of car had come to fetch Mr. Witcombe and could he go and look at it, so he had to be quieted again. We were in the drawing-room, children and all. The children were all a bit restive because, except for their stockings in the morning, they hadn’t had any Christmas presents yet, Sir Osmond having put all their parcels on the tree or piled up round it. Kit was the worst, of course. He’s rather an obstreperous child. His elder sister, Enid, likes to please her grandfather, and she knew there was something up, and kept saying, “When’s our surprise coming, Grandfather?”
    At last Mr. Cheriton came back to us and said: “He’s safely off!” That was the signal and meant that Santa Klaus was all ready in the library.
    Sir Osmond said, “I think I heard a noise like reindeer.” He had been quite put out that there wasn’t any snow, because he had meant to say he heard the sound of the sleigh-runners. “All sorts of queer things happen at Christmas-time, you know, children. Anne, run into the library and see if anyone’s there waiting for us.”
    Little Anne looked rather frightened at this. She is only four. “It’ll be someone very nice,” Mrs. Stickland said.
    â€œReindeer wouldn’t go into the library!” little Kit piped up. “Shall I go and look in the drive?”
    â€œPerhaps it was Mr. Witcombe come back for his tooth-brush!” said young Osmond.
    â€œNonsense!” said Sir Osmond, a bit sharply. Of