which Feben felt was too obscure. Instead, the secretary proposed Ut nos simus (“We are as we are”) and when she and Amy both elected to use it, Arabella gave in with good grace.
“That concludes today’s agenda,” she said, smiling. “And now I beg your indulgence upon an unofficial matter. If either of you read Bell’s Weekly Messenger— (ahem!) whose title in no way implies that it is all about me, though it does, on occasion, print articles about my life—you know that I occasionally dabble in what, for want of a better term, I shall call ‘mysterious adventures.’ ”
“Right you are!” Amy enthused. “It sounds ever so much fun!”
“Though, of course, not everyone could do it,” said Feben. “I think one must have an inborn talent for detection, as Arabella does.”
“Nonsense,” replied Arabella modestly. “It is a skill, like any other. I scarcely know what I am doing most of the time. But the fact is, I am working on a sort of case just now, and am curious as to whether you think anyone at the club should like to assist me with it.”
Feben’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “Speaking for myself, I should love to!”
“Huzzah!” shouted Amy, leaping up from the sopha and tossing her beaver hat into the air. “A detectives’ club!”
“Oh, no! Hardly that!” cried Arabella. “I merely wondered whether I might ask occasionally for your assistance, and whether . . .” She was interrupted by the sound of a carriage pulling into the drive. “Goodness!” she cried. “That will be my niece, Edwardina. But I was not expecting her till tomorrow!”
“Perhaps it is somebody else, then,” said Amy.
“No. It is Eddie and her stepfather. I would stake my life upon it.”
Fielding settled the matter by putting her head through the doorway and saying, “Mr. Dysart has arrived with Miss Edwardina, miss.”
Arabella’s fellow officers were thrilled.
“How did you know who it was?” asked Feben.
“Because carriages go round to the porte cochere, as a rule,” Arabella replied. “Edwardina, being an invalid, must be brought as close to the front door as possible.”
Feben nodded at Amy as if to say, There! That is the mark of a great detective! Then they arose, for they were tactful, and understood that their hostess needed to attend to her family matters.
“It’s really quite wonderful,” said Amy, picking up her hat again and wiping its crown with a circular motion of her forearm, like a gentleman would, “how keenly perceptive you are, Arabella!”
She placed the hat upon her head and rapped the crown smartly, to affix it more securely about her ears.
“I thank you,” said the hostess, “but there’s really no secret to it, you know. In fact, it’s quite elementary.”
She was all aglow from their compliments as she escorted her sister Cyprians to a side door. It was awfully good to have other women about, even though they would probably tear her character to pieces once they were out of earshot. After all, one can always ignore what one does not hear. Then she returned to welcome Constable Dysart as he came through the front door, hatless and distracted, with the fragile Edwardina in his arms.
“Hello, Frank,” said Arabella. “Come this way, if you please.” She preceded him up the spiral stairwell, along the passage, and into the bedroom next her own. “You’ll have lots of sunshine in this room, Eddie,” she said, pulling back the bedcovers, “and a lovely view of the garden. The spires of the city are just visible beyond the trees.”
The child slumped weakly against her stepfather’s chest, as though there were no bones to her body.
“Thank you, Aunt Bell,” she whispered. “I am ever so grateful that you have let me come!”
As Frank tucked her in, Eddie’s head fell back against the pillow and she was instantly asleep.
“I’m afraid the journey has exhausted her,” said Dysart. “Poor little poppet.”
“Well, she needs quiet, fresh
“That concludes today’s agenda,” she said, smiling. “And now I beg your indulgence upon an unofficial matter. If either of you read Bell’s Weekly Messenger— (ahem!) whose title in no way implies that it is all about me, though it does, on occasion, print articles about my life—you know that I occasionally dabble in what, for want of a better term, I shall call ‘mysterious adventures.’ ”
“Right you are!” Amy enthused. “It sounds ever so much fun!”
“Though, of course, not everyone could do it,” said Feben. “I think one must have an inborn talent for detection, as Arabella does.”
“Nonsense,” replied Arabella modestly. “It is a skill, like any other. I scarcely know what I am doing most of the time. But the fact is, I am working on a sort of case just now, and am curious as to whether you think anyone at the club should like to assist me with it.”
Feben’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “Speaking for myself, I should love to!”
“Huzzah!” shouted Amy, leaping up from the sopha and tossing her beaver hat into the air. “A detectives’ club!”
“Oh, no! Hardly that!” cried Arabella. “I merely wondered whether I might ask occasionally for your assistance, and whether . . .” She was interrupted by the sound of a carriage pulling into the drive. “Goodness!” she cried. “That will be my niece, Edwardina. But I was not expecting her till tomorrow!”
“Perhaps it is somebody else, then,” said Amy.
“No. It is Eddie and her stepfather. I would stake my life upon it.”
Fielding settled the matter by putting her head through the doorway and saying, “Mr. Dysart has arrived with Miss Edwardina, miss.”
Arabella’s fellow officers were thrilled.
“How did you know who it was?” asked Feben.
“Because carriages go round to the porte cochere, as a rule,” Arabella replied. “Edwardina, being an invalid, must be brought as close to the front door as possible.”
Feben nodded at Amy as if to say, There! That is the mark of a great detective! Then they arose, for they were tactful, and understood that their hostess needed to attend to her family matters.
“It’s really quite wonderful,” said Amy, picking up her hat again and wiping its crown with a circular motion of her forearm, like a gentleman would, “how keenly perceptive you are, Arabella!”
She placed the hat upon her head and rapped the crown smartly, to affix it more securely about her ears.
“I thank you,” said the hostess, “but there’s really no secret to it, you know. In fact, it’s quite elementary.”
She was all aglow from their compliments as she escorted her sister Cyprians to a side door. It was awfully good to have other women about, even though they would probably tear her character to pieces once they were out of earshot. After all, one can always ignore what one does not hear. Then she returned to welcome Constable Dysart as he came through the front door, hatless and distracted, with the fragile Edwardina in his arms.
“Hello, Frank,” said Arabella. “Come this way, if you please.” She preceded him up the spiral stairwell, along the passage, and into the bedroom next her own. “You’ll have lots of sunshine in this room, Eddie,” she said, pulling back the bedcovers, “and a lovely view of the garden. The spires of the city are just visible beyond the trees.”
The child slumped weakly against her stepfather’s chest, as though there were no bones to her body.
“Thank you, Aunt Bell,” she whispered. “I am ever so grateful that you have let me come!”
As Frank tucked her in, Eddie’s head fell back against the pillow and she was instantly asleep.
“I’m afraid the journey has exhausted her,” said Dysart. “Poor little poppet.”
“Well, she needs quiet, fresh
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