Free Sad Cypress by Agatha Christie Page A

secretaire. Would you care for those?”
    Mrs. Bishop accepted the chairs with becoming thanks. She explained, “I am staying at the moment with my sister. Is there anything I can do for you up at the house, Miss Elinor? I could come up there with you, if you like.”
    “No, thank you.”
    Elinor spoke quickly, rather abruptly.
    Mrs. Bishop said, “It would be no trouble, I assure you - a pleasure. Such a melancholy task going through all dear Mrs. Welman's things.”
    Elinor said, “Thank you, Mrs. Bishop, but I would rather tackle it alone. One can do some things better alone -”
    Mrs. Bishop said stiffly, “As you please, of course.”
    She went on: “That daughter of Gerrard's is down here. The funeral was yesterday. She's staying with Nurse Hopkins. I did hear they were going up to the lodge this morning.”
    Elinor nodded. She said, “Yes, I asked Mary to come down and see to that. Major Somervell wants to get in as soon as possible.”
    “I see.”
    Elinor said, “Well, I must be getting on now. So glad to have seen you, Mrs. Bishop. I'll remember about the secretaire and the chairs.”
    She shook hands and passed on. She went into the baker's and bought a loaf of bread. Then she went into the dairy and bought half a pound of butter and some milk. Finally she went into the grocer's.
    “I want some paste for sandwiches, please.”
    “Certainly, Miss Carlisle.” Mr. Abbott himself bustled forward, elbowing aside his junior apprentice. “What would you like? Salmon and shrimp? Turkey and tongue? Salmon and sardine? Ham and tongue?”
    He whipped down pot after pot and arrayed them on the counter.
    Elinor said with a faint smile, “In spite of their names, I always think they taste much alike.”
    Mr. Abbott agreed instantly. “Well, perhaps they do in a way. Yes, in a way. But, of course, they're very tasty - very tasty.”
    Elinor said, “One used to be rather afraid of eating fish pastes. There have been cases of ptomaine poisoning from them, haven't there?”
    Mr. Abbott put on a horrified expression. “I can assure you this is an excellent brand - most reliable - we never have any complaints.”
    Elinor said, “I'll have one of salmon and anchovy and one of salmon and shrimp. Thank you.”
    Elinor Carlisle entered the grounds of Hunterbury by the back gate. It was a hot, clear summer's day. There were sweet peas in flower. Elinor passed by a row of them. The undergardener, Horlick, who was remaining in to keep the place in order, greeted her respectfully.
    “Good morning, miss. I got your letter. You'll find the side door open, miss. I've unfastened the shutters and opened most of the windows.”
    Elinor said, “Thank you, Horlick.”
    As she moved on, the young man said nervously, his Adam's apple jerking up and down in spasmodic fashion, “Excuse me, miss -”
    Elinor turned back. “Yes?”
    “Is it true that the house is sold? I mean, is it really settled?”
    “Oh, yes!”
    Horlick said nervously, “I was wondering, miss, if you would say a word for me - to Major Somervell, I mean. He'll be wanting gardeners. Maybe he'll think I'm too young for head gardener, but I've worked under Mr. Stephens for four years now, and I reckon I know a tidyish bit, and I've kept things going fairly well since I've been here, single-handed.”
    Elinor said quickly, “Of course I will do all I can for you, Horlick. As a matter of fact, I intended to mention you to Major Somervell and tell him what a good gardener you are.”
    Horlick's face grew dusky red. “Thank you, miss. That's very kind of you. You can understand it's been a bit of a blow, like - Mrs. Welman dying, and then the place being sold off so quick - and I - well, the fact of the matter is I was going to get married this autumn, only one's got to be sure -”
    He stopped.
    Elinor said kindly, “I hope Major Somervell will take you on. You can rely on me to do all I can.”
    Horlick said again, “Thank you, miss. We all hoped, you see, as how