Part 20 (1/2)
”All right,” and his voice was constrained. ”I'll not be keeping you any longer, sor.”
Doctor Hilary went with him to the door.
”I'm sorry about this business,” he said.
”Are you?” said Antony indifferently.
Doctor Hilary went back to his surgery.
”He didn't believe me,” he said to himself, ”small wonder.”
He pulled out his note-book and made a note in it. Then he shut the book and put it in his pocket.
”Anyhow,” he said, ”it's the kind of thing we wanted.”
The memorandum he had entered, ran:--
”Write Sinclair _re_ Grantley.”
CHAPTER XIX
TRIX ON THE SCENE
”Tibby, angel, what's the matter with Pia?”
Trix Devereux was sitting on the little rustic table beneath the lime trees, smoking a cigarette. Miss Tibb.u.t.t was sitting on the rustic seat, knitting some fine lace. The ball of knitting cotton was in a black satin bag on her lap.
Trix had arrived at Woodleigh the previous day, two days earlier than she had been expected. A telegram had preceded her appearance. It was a lengthy telegram, an explicit telegram. It set forth various facts in a manner entirely characteristic of Trix. Firstly, it announced her almost immediate arrival; secondly, it remarked on the extraordinary heat in London; and thirdly it stated quite clearly her own overwhelming and instant desire for the nice, fresh, cool, clean, country.
”Trix is coming to-day,” the d.u.c.h.essa had said as she read it.
”How delightful!” Miss Tibb.u.t.t had replied instantly. And then, after a moment's pause, ”There will be plenty of food because Father Dormer is dining here to-night.”
The d.u.c.h.essa had laughed. It was so entirely like Tibby to think of food the first thing.
”I know,” she had replied. And then reflectively, ”I think it might be desirable to telephone to Doctor Hilary and ask him to come too. It really is not fair to ask Father Dormer to meet three solitary females.”
A second time Miss Tibb.u.t.t had momentarily and mentally surveyed the contents of the larder, and almost immediately had nodded her entire approval of the idea. She most thoroughly enjoyed the mild excitement of a little dinner party.
”Tibby, angel, what's the matter with Pia?”
The question fell rather like a bomb, though quite a small bomb, into the suns.h.i.+ne.
”Matter with Pia,” echoed Miss Tibb.u.t.t. ”What do you think, my dear?”
”That,” said Trix wisely, ”is precisely what I am asking you?”
Miss Tibb.u.t.t laid down her knitting.