Why Shoot a Butler Read Free Page B

dinner?"
    Lady Matthews embraced him and said vaguely: "Dear Frank! Dreadfully late, and a cheese souffle! Darling, tell somebody about Frank. Oh, here is Jenkins! Jenkins, Mr. Amberley has arrived."
    She smiled charmingly upon her nephew and drifted away again towards the drawing room. Amberley grinned and called after her: "Aunt Marion, need I change?"
    "Change, dear boy? No, of course not. You haven't lost your luggage, have you?"
    "No, but it's past nine."
    "Dreadful, my dear. We were afraid of an accident."
    Felicity tugged at her cousin's sleeve. "Frank, you couldn't have got lost for a whole hour! Own up! You started late!"
    "You're a little beast, Felicity. Let me go, I must have a wash."
    He came downstairs again five minutes later and was escorted by Felicity to the dining room. While he ate she sat with her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her hands.
    "The ball," she announced, "is on Wednesday." Frank groaned. "Did you bring a fancy dress?" Felicity said anxiously.
    "I did."
    "What is it?" demanded Felicity, agog with female interest.
    "Mephistopheles. Suits my style of beauty."
    She was doubtful. "I don't really mind about that," she informed him. "You see, I'm going as a Powder-Puff, and you won't suit my style at all."
    "God forbid. A Powder-Puff! Look here, what is this ball about, and why, and where?"
    Her brown eyes opened to their widest extent. "Good Lord, didn't Mummy tell you in her letter?"
    He laughed. "Aunt Marion's letters are exactly like her conversation - the important bits left out."
    "Well, it's at Norton Manor. Joan's engaged."
    "Joan?"
    "You know! Joan Fountain. You must have met her here."
    "Fair girl with eyes? Who's the man?"
    "Oh, rather an angel. His name's Corkran. He's got pots of money, I believe. Anyway they're engaged, and the ball is sort of in honour of it."
    "Half a minute. What's this chap's Christian name?"
    "Corkran? Tony. Why?"
    Frank raised his brows. "Old Corks! I thought it must be. He was at school with me."
    "How delightful for him!" said Miss Matthews politely.
    At that moment the door opened and a tall, thin man with white hair came in. Frank got up. "Evening, Uncle."
    Sir Humphrey shook hands. "Well, Frank? I've only just heard that you'd arrived. What kept you?"
    "Felicity, sir. She told me a short way from town. It wasn't."
    "So the great Mr. Amberley got lost! The mighty are fallen, Frank."
    "Fraid so, sir."
    "The whole truth is, he didn't start in time," said Felicity indignantly. "And it's no use saying you were busy, Frank, because I know quite well you're - what is it barristers get into in the summer, Daddy? Recess, or something. I say, Daddy, he says he knows Joan's young man."
    Sir Humphrey, observing that his nephew had come to the end of his repast, pushed the port decanter towards him. "Indeed? A singularly brainless young man, one would be led to infer, but I believe of excellent family. These fancy-dress festivities, I understood, are to celebrate the engagement. Felicity is very friendly with Miss Fountain."
    It was apparent to Mr. Amberley that the friendship did not meet with Sir Humphrey's whole-hearted approval. He searched his brain for data concerning the Fountains and found it void.
    Felicity was called away to the telephone. Frank cracked and peeled a nut. "That wasn't entirely true."
    "What was not entirely true?" inquired Sir Humphrey, refilling his glass.
    "Oh - my losing my way. I did, but not for an hour. I stumbled on a murder."
    "God bless my soul!" ejaculated Sir Humphrey, feeling for his pince-nez. He fixed them on his bony nose and regarded his nephew in great astonishment. "Who's been murdered?"
    "I've no idea. Middle-aged man respectably dressed. Couldn't place him. Might have been a tradesman. Something like that. He was in an Austin Seven on the Pittingly Road."
    "Tut, tut, tut!" said Sir Humphrey, much perturbed. "Shocking! Shocking! No doubt a case of these road bandits."
    "It might have been," replied his nephew