Mistletoe and Murder by Carola Dunn Page B

Aren’t you going to let Nana off to chase squirrels, Bel? Won’t she come when she’s called?”
    â€œMostly.”
    â€œShe always comes when I whistle,” said Derek.
    â€œIt’s not fair. Girls aren’t supposed to whistle.”
    â€œWho said that? Your gran or Aunt Daisy?”
    â€œGran,” said Bel, grasping Derek’s point at once. Her new mother had very different ideas from her grandmother about what was proper for girls to do. “But I don’t know how.”
    â€œLet Nana off and we’ll teach you,” Uncle Miles promised.
    By the time they reached the house, Nana was exhausted and muddy, while Uncle Miles and Derek were wheezing from laughing at Belinda’s efforts, but she could almost whistle. Whenever she tried, Nana cocked her head, so it was worth persevering.

    â€œBetter not whistle indoors,” suggested Uncle Miles, “and we’d better take Nana to one of the gardeners to be washed before she comes in. This way.”
    With the puppy clean and as dry as a couple of sacks could make her, they went into the house. Nana went straight to the fireplace, lay down on the hearthrug, and fell asleep. No one seemed very interested in her. They were busy fussing around Lady Dalrymple with cushions and tea.
    There was a girl not much older than Belinda and Derek, but she wasn’t a bit friendly. There was a cross-looking clergyman, not at all like chubby, cheerful Mr. Preston at home. Derek started to talk to a man who was a sailor, a captain. Belinda went politely to sit with an old lady who smiled at her. Her name was Mrs. Norville. She said she came from India, a long, long time ago, so Bel told her about her schoolfriend Deva, who was Indian. Mrs. Norville was very nice.
    After tea, Uncle Miles took Belinda and Derek on a tour of the old house. He warned them to be very careful because of everything being so valuable. They had to take a lantern because it was getting dark and there was no electricity, not even gas.
    â€œI’ve got an electric torch,” Derek announced. “Daddy gave it to me for an early Christmas present. I’ll go and get it.”
    â€œSave the battery for when you need it,” Uncle Miles advised, lighting his lantern.
    The old house was full of interesting things, but it was a bit eerie by lantern-light. There were shadows everywhere, and the people in the tapestries seemed to jump out at you when you went into a room. They kept moving, too,
because it was windy outside now and the draughts made the tapestries ripple and rustle.
    â€œIt’s sort of like being in a house full of ghosts,” Belinda said.
    â€œReal ghosts moan and rattle their chains,” Derek objected. “I say, Bel, let’s come back tomorrow when it’s light and look for the treasure map in the secret drawers.”
    â€œMay we, Uncle Miles?”
    â€œI don’t see why not, as long as you’re careful not to break anything. Right-oh, we’d better get back now. It’s your supper-time, and I have to dress for dinner.”
    Jemima had supper with Derek and Belinda. She was simply furious because she usually had dinner with the grown-ups. The silly thing was she was angry with Bel and Derek, though it wasn’t their fault at all. She scowled and muttered, and after pudding (delicious apple pie with very thick cream the maid called “clotted”), she said loudly, “It’s going to be a rotten Christmas,” and went off without another word.
    â€œShe can have a rotten Christmas if she wants,” said Derek, “we’re going to have a ripping Christmas. Nanny packed a big box of crackers and gummed paper for making paper chains. And Captain Norville said there’ll be a Christmas tree and carols and mincepies, and plum pudding with sixpences in if he has to put them there himself. And if we hang up stockings tomorrow night, Father Christmas will come, only he’ll