Reading Help The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie. Ch.I-VI
`
` "I don't wonder. Sisters _are_, you know, Mr. Hastings. They `
` simp--ly _are_! You've no idea! But I'm not a nurse, thank heaven, `
` I work in the dispensary." `
` `
` "How many people do you poison?" I asked, smiling. `
` `
` Cynthia smiled too. `
` `
` "Oh, hundreds!" she said. `
` `
` "Cynthia," called Mrs. Inglethorp, "do you think you could write `
` a few notes for me?" `
` `
` "Certainly, Aunt Emily." `
` `
` She jumped up promptly, and something in her manner reminded me `
` that her position was a dependent one, and that Mrs. Inglethorp, `
` kind as she might be in the main, did not allow her to forget it. `
` `
` My hostess turned to me. `
` `
` "John will show you your room. Supper is at half-past seven. We `
` have given up late dinner for some time now. Lady Tadminster, `
` our Member's wife--she was the late Lord Abbotsbury's `
` daughter--does the same. She agrees with me that one must set an `
` example of economy. We are quite a war household; nothing is `
` wasted here--every scrap of waste paper, even, is saved and sent `
` away in sacks." `
` `
` I expressed my appreciation, and John took me into the house and `
` up the broad staircase, which forked right and left half-way to `
` different wings of the building. My room was in the left wing, `
` and looked out over the park. `
` `
` John left me, and a few minutes later I saw him from my window `
` walking slowly across the grass arm in arm with Cynthia Murdoch. `
` I heard Mrs. Inglethorp call "Cynthia" impatiently, and the girl `
` started and ran back to the house. At the same moment, a man `
` stepped out from the shadow of a tree and walked slowly in the `
` same direction. He looked about forty, very dark with a `
` melancholy clean-shaven face. Some violent emotion seemed to be `
` mastering him. He looked up at my window as he passed, and I `
` recognized him, though he had changed much in the fifteen years `
` that had elapsed since we last met. It was John's younger `
` brother, Lawrence Cavendish. I wondered what it was that had `
` brought that singular expression to his face. `
` `
` Then I dismissed him from my mind, and returned to the `
` contemplation of my own affairs. `
` `
` The evening passed pleasantly enough; and I dreamed that night of `
` that enigmatical woman, Mary Cavendish. `
` `
` The next morning dawned bright and sunny, and I was full of the `
` anticipation of a delightful visit. `
` `
` I did not see Mrs. Cavendish until lunch-time, when she `
` volunteered to take me for a walk, and we spent a charming `
` afternoon roaming in the woods, returning to the house about `
` five. `
` `
` As we entered the large hall, John beckoned us both into the `
` smoking-room. I saw at once by his face that something `
` disturbing had occurred. We followed him in, and he shut the `
` door after us. `
` `
` "Look here, Mary, there's the deuce of a mess. Evie's had a row `
` with Alfred Inglethorp, and she's off." `
` `
` "Evie? Off?" `
` `
` John nodded gloomily. `
` `
` "Yes; you see she went to the mater, and--Oh, here's Evie `
` herself." `
` `
` Miss Howard entered. Her lips were set grimly together, and she `
` carried a small suit-case. She looked excited and determined, `
` and slightly on the defensive. `
` `
` "At any rate," she burst out, "I've spoken my mind!" `
` `
` "My dear Evelyn," cried Mrs. Cavendish, "this can't be true!" `
` `
` Miss Howard nodded grimly. `
` `
` "True enough! Afraid I said some things to Emily she won't forget `
` or forgive in a hurry. Don't mind if they've only sunk in a bit. `
` Probably water off a duck's back, though. I said right out: `
` 'You're an old woman, Emily, and there's no fool like an old `
` fool. The man's twenty years younger than you, and don't you `
` fool yourself as to what he married you for. Money! Well, don't `
` let him have too much of it. Farmer Raikes has got a very pretty `
` young wife. Just ask your Alfred how much time he spends over `
` there.' She was very angry. Natural! I went on, 'I'm going to `
` warn you, whether you like it or not. That man would as soon `
` murder you in your bed as look at you. He's a bad lot. You can `
` say what you like to me, but remember what I've told you. He's a `
` bad lot!' " `
` `
` "What did she say?" `
` `
` Miss Howard made an extremely expressive grimace. `
` `
` " 'Darling Alfred'--'dearest Alfred'--'wicked calumnies' `
` --'wicked lies'--'wicked woman'--to accuse her 'dear husband'! `
` The sooner I left her house the better. So I'm off." `
` `
` "But not now?" `
` `
` "This minute!" `
` `
` For a moment we sat and stared at her. Finally John Cavendish, `
` finding his persuasions of no avail, went off to look up the `
` trains. His wife followed him, murmuring something about `
` persuading Mrs. Inglethorp to think better of it. `
` `
` As she left the room, Miss Howard's face changed. She leant `
` towards me eagerly. `
` `
` "Mr. Hastings, you're honest. I can trust you?" `
` `
` I was a little startled. She laid her hand on my arm, and sank `
` her voice to a whisper. `
` `
` "Look after her, Mr. Hastings. My poor Emily. They're a lot of `
` sharks--all of them. Oh, I know what I'm talking about. There `
` isn't one of them that's not hard up and trying to get money out `
` of her. I've protected her as much as I could. Now I'm out of `
` the way, they'll impose upon her." `
` `
` "Of course, Miss Howard," I said, "I'll do everything I can, but `
` I'm sure you're excited and overwrought." `
` `
` She interrupted me by slowly shaking her forefinger. `
` `
` "Young man, trust me. I've lived in the world rather longer than `
` you have. All I ask you is to keep your eyes open. You'll see `
` what I mean." `
` `
` The throb of the motor came through the open window, and Miss `
` Howard rose and moved to the door. John's voice sounded outside. `
` With her hand on the handle, she turned her head over her `
` shoulder, and beckoned to me. `
` `
` "Above all, Mr. Hastings, watch that devil--her husband!" `
` `
` There was no time for more. Miss Howard was swallowed up in an `
` eager chorus of protests and good-byes. The Inglethorps did not `
` appear. `
` `
` As the motor drove away, Mrs. Cavendish suddenly detached herself `
` from the group, and moved across the drive to the lawn to meet a `
` tall bearded man who had been evidently making for the house. `
` The colour rose in her cheeks as she held out her hand to him. `
` `
` "Who is that?" I asked sharply, for instinctively I distrusted `
` the man. `
` `
` "That's Dr. Bauerstein," said John shortly. `
` `
` "And who is Dr. Bauerstein?" `
` `
` "He's staying in the village doing a rest cure, after a bad `
` nervous breakdown. He's a London specialist; a very clever `
` man--one of the greatest living experts on poisons, I believe." `
` `
` "And he's a great friend of Mary's," put in Cynthia, the `
` irrepressible. `
` `
` John Cavendish frowned and changed the subject. `
` `
` "Come for a stroll, Hastings. This has been a most rotten `
` business. She always had a rough tongue, but there is no `
` stauncher friend in England than Evelyn Howard." `
` `
` He took the path through the plantation, and we walked down to `
` the village through the woods which bordered one side of the `
` estate. `
` `
` As we passed through one of the gates on our way home again, a `
` pretty young woman of gipsy type coming in the opposite direction `
` bowed and smiled. `
` `
` "That's a pretty girl," I remarked appreciatively. `
` `
` John's face hardened. `
` `
` "That is Mrs. Raikes." `
` `
` "The one that Miss Howard----" `
` `
` "Exactly," said John, with rather unnecessary abruptness. `
` `
` I thought of the white-haired old lady in the big house, and that `
` vivid wicked little face that had just smiled into ours, and a `
` vague chill of foreboding crept over me. I brushed it aside. `
` `
` "Styles is really a glorious old place," I said to John. `
` `
`
` "I don't wonder. Sisters _are_, you know, Mr. Hastings. They `
` simp--ly _are_! You've no idea! But I'm not a nurse, thank heaven, `
` I work in the dispensary." `
` `
` "How many people do you poison?" I asked, smiling. `
` `
` Cynthia smiled too. `
` `
` "Oh, hundreds!" she said. `
` `
` "Cynthia," called Mrs. Inglethorp, "do you think you could write `
` a few notes for me?" `
` `
` "Certainly, Aunt Emily." `
` `
` She jumped up promptly, and something in her manner reminded me `
` that her position was a dependent one, and that Mrs. Inglethorp, `
` kind as she might be in the main, did not allow her to forget it. `
` `
` My hostess turned to me. `
` `
` "John will show you your room. Supper is at half-past seven. We `
` have given up late dinner for some time now. Lady Tadminster, `
` our Member's wife--she was the late Lord Abbotsbury's `
` daughter--does the same. She agrees with me that one must set an `
` example of economy. We are quite a war household; nothing is `
` wasted here--every scrap of waste paper, even, is saved and sent `
` away in sacks." `
` `
` I expressed my appreciation, and John took me into the house and `
` up the broad staircase, which forked right and left half-way to `
` different wings of the building. My room was in the left wing, `
` and looked out over the park. `
` `
` John left me, and a few minutes later I saw him from my window `
` walking slowly across the grass arm in arm with Cynthia Murdoch. `
` I heard Mrs. Inglethorp call "Cynthia" impatiently, and the girl `
` started and ran back to the house. At the same moment, a man `
` stepped out from the shadow of a tree and walked slowly in the `
` same direction. He looked about forty, very dark with a `
` melancholy clean-shaven face. Some violent emotion seemed to be `
` mastering him. He looked up at my window as he passed, and I `
` recognized him, though he had changed much in the fifteen years `
` that had elapsed since we last met. It was John's younger `
` brother, Lawrence Cavendish. I wondered what it was that had `
` brought that singular expression to his face. `
` `
` Then I dismissed him from my mind, and returned to the `
` contemplation of my own affairs. `
` `
` The evening passed pleasantly enough; and I dreamed that night of `
` that enigmatical woman, Mary Cavendish. `
` `
` The next morning dawned bright and sunny, and I was full of the `
` anticipation of a delightful visit. `
` `
` I did not see Mrs. Cavendish until lunch-time, when she `
` volunteered to take me for a walk, and we spent a charming `
` afternoon roaming in the woods, returning to the house about `
` five. `
` `
` As we entered the large hall, John beckoned us both into the `
` smoking-room. I saw at once by his face that something `
` disturbing had occurred. We followed him in, and he shut the `
` door after us. `
` `
` "Look here, Mary, there's the deuce of a mess. Evie's had a row `
` with Alfred Inglethorp, and she's off." `
` `
` "Evie? Off?" `
` `
` John nodded gloomily. `
` `
` "Yes; you see she went to the mater, and--Oh, here's Evie `
` herself." `
` `
` Miss Howard entered. Her lips were set grimly together, and she `
` carried a small suit-case. She looked excited and determined, `
` and slightly on the defensive. `
` `
` "At any rate," she burst out, "I've spoken my mind!" `
` `
` "My dear Evelyn," cried Mrs. Cavendish, "this can't be true!" `
` `
` Miss Howard nodded grimly. `
` `
` "True enough! Afraid I said some things to Emily she won't forget `
` or forgive in a hurry. Don't mind if they've only sunk in a bit. `
` Probably water off a duck's back, though. I said right out: `
` 'You're an old woman, Emily, and there's no fool like an old `
` fool. The man's twenty years younger than you, and don't you `
` fool yourself as to what he married you for. Money! Well, don't `
` let him have too much of it. Farmer Raikes has got a very pretty `
` young wife. Just ask your Alfred how much time he spends over `
` there.' She was very angry. Natural! I went on, 'I'm going to `
` warn you, whether you like it or not. That man would as soon `
` murder you in your bed as look at you. He's a bad lot. You can `
` say what you like to me, but remember what I've told you. He's a `
` bad lot!' " `
` `
` "What did she say?" `
` `
` Miss Howard made an extremely expressive grimace. `
` `
` " 'Darling Alfred'--'dearest Alfred'--'wicked calumnies' `
` --'wicked lies'--'wicked woman'--to accuse her 'dear husband'! `
` The sooner I left her house the better. So I'm off." `
` `
` "But not now?" `
` `
` "This minute!" `
` `
` For a moment we sat and stared at her. Finally John Cavendish, `
` finding his persuasions of no avail, went off to look up the `
` trains. His wife followed him, murmuring something about `
` persuading Mrs. Inglethorp to think better of it. `
` `
` As she left the room, Miss Howard's face changed. She leant `
` towards me eagerly. `
` `
` "Mr. Hastings, you're honest. I can trust you?" `
` `
` I was a little startled. She laid her hand on my arm, and sank `
` her voice to a whisper. `
` `
` "Look after her, Mr. Hastings. My poor Emily. They're a lot of `
` sharks--all of them. Oh, I know what I'm talking about. There `
` isn't one of them that's not hard up and trying to get money out `
` of her. I've protected her as much as I could. Now I'm out of `
` the way, they'll impose upon her." `
` `
` "Of course, Miss Howard," I said, "I'll do everything I can, but `
` I'm sure you're excited and overwrought." `
` `
` She interrupted me by slowly shaking her forefinger. `
` `
` "Young man, trust me. I've lived in the world rather longer than `
` you have. All I ask you is to keep your eyes open. You'll see `
` what I mean." `
` `
` The throb of the motor came through the open window, and Miss `
` Howard rose and moved to the door. John's voice sounded outside. `
` With her hand on the handle, she turned her head over her `
` shoulder, and beckoned to me. `
` `
` "Above all, Mr. Hastings, watch that devil--her husband!" `
` `
` There was no time for more. Miss Howard was swallowed up in an `
` eager chorus of protests and good-byes. The Inglethorps did not `
` appear. `
` `
` As the motor drove away, Mrs. Cavendish suddenly detached herself `
` from the group, and moved across the drive to the lawn to meet a `
` tall bearded man who had been evidently making for the house. `
` The colour rose in her cheeks as she held out her hand to him. `
` `
` "Who is that?" I asked sharply, for instinctively I distrusted `
` the man. `
` `
` "That's Dr. Bauerstein," said John shortly. `
` `
` "And who is Dr. Bauerstein?" `
` `
` "He's staying in the village doing a rest cure, after a bad `
` nervous breakdown. He's a London specialist; a very clever `
` man--one of the greatest living experts on poisons, I believe." `
` `
` "And he's a great friend of Mary's," put in Cynthia, the `
` irrepressible. `
` `
` John Cavendish frowned and changed the subject. `
` `
` "Come for a stroll, Hastings. This has been a most rotten `
` business. She always had a rough tongue, but there is no `
` stauncher friend in England than Evelyn Howard." `
` `
` He took the path through the plantation, and we walked down to `
` the village through the woods which bordered one side of the `
` estate. `
` `
` As we passed through one of the gates on our way home again, a `
` pretty young woman of gipsy type coming in the opposite direction `
` bowed and smiled. `
` `
` "That's a pretty girl," I remarked appreciatively. `
` `
` John's face hardened. `
` `
` "That is Mrs. Raikes." `
` `
` "The one that Miss Howard----" `
` `
` "Exactly," said John, with rather unnecessary abruptness. `
` `
` I thought of the white-haired old lady in the big house, and that `
` vivid wicked little face that had just smiled into ours, and a `
` vague chill of foreboding crept over me. I brushed it aside. `
` `
` "Styles is really a glorious old place," I said to John. `
` `
`