The Mystery Of An Old Murder Read Free Page B

the room ten times over till I made my curtsy in a proper manner. I will give you some lessons if you like."
    Marjorie was secretly amused at this offer to teach her deportment. If Kitty knew how to curtsy she did not know how to walk. Her short, mincing steps made Marjorie feel inclined to shake her.
    They were now in the little guest-room, which had been prepared for Kitty. Marjorie was helping her to unpack the small box that had been carried upstairs from the chaise. Kitty explained that most of her dresses had gone on in her big box by the carrier, and would reach St. Mawan some time that week.
    "But I have scarcely any new things," she said somewhat discontentedly; "mother said I should not want them down here. But I have a book of fashions I can show you. And I will give you the pattern of my new black silk spencer. It only came home last week. You could send the pattern to your dressmaker and have one made exactly like it. You will come to St. Mawan soon, will you not? And then you shall see all my things."
    Marjorie's eyes opened wide. "But I am not going to St. Mawan," she said.
    Kitty turned from the glass where she was fastening up her hair and tapped her gaily on the cheek. She had to stand on her tiptoes to do it, for Marjorie was nearly a head taller. "My dear creature, you must come; Aunt Mary is determined to have you. And I am sure we should agree. You are a dear little soul. Positively you must come."
    Despite Kitty's affectations there was real good-nature in her sallow little face, and Marjorie's heart grew warm towards her. "I must hear what mother says about it," she said. "I should like to go. I have never been to St. Mawan, though mother and father and Aunt Nell were all born there."
    "It must be a dull little place," said Kitty, shrugging her shoulders, a gesture she had caught from her marquise. "You ought to come to London, you dear little country mouse. I shall make mother invite you when I go back. But now we must have you at St. Mawan. Your cousin Carew does not live there now, so that there is no reason why you should not come."
    Kitty had said the last words without thinking, but she recollected her promise to her aunt as she saw Marjorie's bewildered look. She turned away biting her lips, pretending to be busy with her comb. But she could not help being amused and gratified at discovering that she knew more than Marjorie about her family history. It added to the feelings of superiority Marjorie's country breeding and evident simplicity had already aroused in her.
    "Do you like this comb?" she asked, as she put a last touch or two to her clustered curls. "One like it would suit you, I am sure. But your dress is pretty. It is real Indian muslin, isn't it?"
    "Yes, Uncle George sent it to me from India. Kitty, I did not understand you just now. Were you speaking of Mr. Robert Carew? He—"
    "Don't ask me any questions, my dear girl. I ought to have been quite silent. And I meant nothing, nothing. Is it time for us to go downstairs now? I am quite ready."
    Kitty had expected to find Marjorie bent on cross-examining her, and was surprised and not a little disappointed to find that she dropped the subject at once. There is not much gratification to be gained from refusing to disclose a secret if your companion takes you at your word at once, and shows no further curiosity about it.
    But Marjorie, though too proud and too loyal to seek to learn from Kitty what her parents and Aunt Nell had not told her, could not forget Kitty's words; she tried hard to dismiss them from her mind, but they obstinately lingered there. It hurt her a little to find out that Kitty knew something about St. Mawan history which she had not been allowed to know. And she wondered if she would be told before going to St. Mawan. For it was settled that her father should take her there early in March. Mr. Drew would only be able to stay for a day or two, but Marjorie was to stay a month or