Death of a Peer by Ngaio Marsh Page A

heater.
     
    “Double, double toil and trouble;
    Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.”
     
    “Shut up,” said Henry. “I thought you said it was unlucky to quote ‘Macbeth.’ ”
    “If we gave Aunt V. the ingredients for a charm,” said Colin, “I expect she’d be only too pleased to make Uncle G. dwindle, peak and pine.”
    “They’re awkward things to beat up in a hurry,” said Frid.
    Stephen said: “I wonder what Aunt V.‘s friends d-do about it. It must be rather dull to be witches if you can’t cast murrains on cattle or give your husband warts.”
    “I wish,” Roberta cried, “that you’d tell me the truth about your Aunt V. and not go rambling on about her being a witch.”
    “Poor Robin,” Henry said. “It does sound very silly, but as an actual fact, if her maid is to be believed, Aunt V. has taken up some sort of black magic. I imagine it boils down to reading histories of witchcraft and turning tables. In my opinion Aunt V. is simply dotty.”
    “Well,” Frid said, “let’s go to bed, anyway.” She kissed the air near Roberta’s cheek and drifted to the door. “Come on, twins,” she added.
    The twins kissed Roberta and wandered after Frid.
    Henry stood in the doorway.
    “Sleep well,” he said.
    “Thank you, Henry,” said Roberta. “It was a lovely party.”
    “For once,” said Henry, “I thought so too. Good night, Robin!”
    Roberta, as she watched the sun on her counterpane, reviewed this final scene several times and felt happy. ii
    The visit of Lord Wutherwood was prejudiced from the start by the arrival of Lady Katherine Lobe. Lady Katherine was a maiden aunt of Lord Charles. She was extremely poor and lived in a small house at Hammersmith. There she was surrounded by photographs of the Lamprey children to whom she was passionately devoted. Being poor herself, she spent the greater part of her life in working for the still-poorer members of her parish. She wore nondescript garments: hats that seemed to have no connection with her head, and grey fabric gloves. She was extremely deaf and spoke in a toneless whispering manner, with kind smiles, and with many anxious looks into the faces of the people she addressed. But for all her diffidence there was a core of determination in Lady Katherine. In her likes and dislikes she was immovable. Nothing would reconcile her to a person of whom she disapproved, and unfortunately she disapproved most strongly of her nephew Wutherwood, who, for his part, refused to meet her. At Christmas she invariably wrote him a letter on the subject of good-will towards men, pointing out his short-comings under this heading and enclosing a blank promise to pay yearly a large sum to one of her charities. Lord Wutherwood’s only reply to these communications was an irritable tearing across of the enclosures. For his younger brother Lady Katherine had the warmest affection. Occasionally she would travel in a bus up to the West End in order to visit the Lampreys and beg, with a gentle persistence, for their old clothes or force them to buy tickets for charitable entertainments. They were always warned by letter of these visits, but on this occasion Lady Charles, agitated by the crisis, had forgotten to open the note, and the only warning she had was Baskett’s announcement, at six o’clock in the evening, of Lady Katherine’s arrival.
    The Lampreys and Roberta had assembled in the drawing-room to await the arrival of Lord Wutherwood. They were unnaturally silent. Even Mike had caught the feeling of tension. He stood by the wireless and turned the control knob as rapidly as possible until told to stop, when he flung himself moodily full length on the hearthrug and kicked his feet together.
    “There’s the lift,” cried Lady Charles suddenly. “Mike, stay where you are and jump up. Remember to shake hands with Uncle Gabriel. Sprinkle some ‘sirs’ through your conversation, for heaven’s sake, and when I nod to you you are to give him the