Hasty Death by Marion Chesney Page B

prepared, no doubt, to murder again.’
    ‘Then, Daisy, we will return to Eaton Square and tell the servants to collect our belongings, and Captain Cathcart can inform the bank that we will not be returning there.’
    ‘I will certainly inform the bank on your behalf,’ said Harry, ‘but to send an earl’s liveried servants to the hostel in Bloomsbury would occasion unwelcome comment. In
the role as your brother, I will go back with you and find some form of transport to take you and your goods home.’
    ‘What about your car?’
    ‘Possible. They were spreading salt on the roads when I walked here. If I may use your telephone, I will ask Becket.’
    Becket said that he thought he would be able to drive to Scotland Yard.
    Harry could not help noticing that a sparkle had returned to Rose’s blue eyes and correctly guessed that she was thrilled to have a suitable excuse to leave her working life and sordid
hostel.
    At the hostel, Miss Harringey began to complain that there would be no refund on the advance rent. Rose was about to declare haughtily that she could keep the money, but Harry sent her upstairs
with Daisy to pack and then began to haggle. He did not want Miss Harringey to wonder too much about working women who could so easily forgo a refund.
    At last he had to admit that he was defeated. Miss Harringey pointed out that she had no immediate hope of finding a new tenant for the room and therefore would be losing money.
    Satisfied with her victory, she treated the captain to a glass of very inferior sherry.
    Rose had wanted to leave all their clothes behind, but Daisy counselled her that such profligate behaviour would cause talk.
    The carried their suitcases downstairs and Becket went up to collect the travelling trunk.
    Outside, the sun had begun to shine and the snow was beginning to melt from the roofs.
    Harry’scar, with Becket at the wheel, conveyed them through the slippery melting roads to Eaton Square.
    The hall-boy had seen them arrive and shouted the news. Two liveried footmen came down the front steps to carry in the luggage.
    Then Brum, the butler, greeted them and said, ‘I will inform my lord and my lady of your arrival.’
    Rose had hoped to escape to her rooms, have a hot bath and a hair-wash and a change of clothes before either of her parents saw her, but as she and Daisy mounted the stairs, Rose’s mother,
Lady Polly, came out of the sitting-room on the first landing.
    ‘Rose!’ she exclaimed. ‘Come in here immediately.’
    The earl was asleep in front of the fire, a newspaper over his face.
    ‘Wake up!’ shouted Lady Polly. ‘Rose is home!’
    ‘Eh, what? By Jove, girl, you do look a mess. Sit down.’
    Rose sank into a chair. Daisy remained standing, very much aware that she was a servant once again.
    ‘What have you to say for yourself?’ demanded Lady Polly.
    ‘I am very grateful to you both for having allowed me to conduct the experiment of being a working woman,’ said Rose. ‘I feel I am now ready to return to society.’
    ‘And what caused this sudden change of heart?’
    ‘Daisy persuaded me it would be the proper thing to do.’
    ‘Indeed!’ Lady Polly smiled at Daisy for the first time. ‘Well, well. I always said she was a sensible girl.’
    ‘Yes, I am indebted to her.’ Daisy wondered what had prompted Rose to give her credit for something she had not done.
    ‘Are you sure nobody apart from Cathcart and Drevey knows of your escapade?’ asked her father.
    ‘No one else, Pa.’
    ‘Very well,’ said Lady Polly. ‘Go of to your rooms and change. We will talk about your future later.’
    At that moment, old Mrs Jubbles was talking about Rose to Mr Jones, the baker, who was seated in her drawing-room, balancing a cup of tea on one chubby knee.
    ‘You see,’ Mrs Jubbles was saying, ‘it doesn’t seem right she should get away with it. People like Lady Rose have no right to go out and work and take bread out of the
mouths of those that need it.