Free The Dower House Mystery by Patricia Wentworth

his face relax.
    â€œAn owl,” he said.
    â€œNo, really . I slammed the door. And then there was a cat mewing somewhere; but I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t like it a bit.”
    Julian laughed outright.
    â€œBrownie has probably got half-a-dozen cats.” He stopped suddenly and whistled. “No, by Jove,” he said under his breath; and Amabel met his eyes and nodded.
    â€œYes. I asked Jenny this morning, and she told me—Mrs. Brown can’t stand cats, and they never have one in the house. Jenny said her mother would be taken ill at once if a cat came into the room.”
    â€œYou don’t suppose Jenny’s playing tricks?” He pulled himself up. “No, that’s a shame. I’d bank on Jenny.”
    â€œI know—she gives you that feeling”, said Amabel. “I did think, before I came, that perhaps she and Mrs. Brown wanted to keep the house empty, but after I’d seen them I simply couldn’t think it any longer; there’s something about them—oh, no, it’s not Jenny; I think she’s frightened too.”
    â€œYet they’ve been here all these years.”
    â€œI know, but,”—Amabel hesitated, leaned nearer, spoke lower—“Julian, she’s frightened all the same. She brings my tea, and clears it away, and then she doesn’t come upstairs again. She—she won’t. I asked her why, and she just drooped and said she couldn’t. Ellen brings me my supper on a tray.”
    As she stopped speaking the door opened and Jenny herself appeared, a drooping figure with downcast eyes.
    â€œMrs. King,” she said in her spiritless voice; and there came in a little person, in a vivid orange-checked coat.
    Amabel saw red-brown hair and hazel eyes under a jaunty felt hat. Julian observed the ankles commended by Edward Berkeley.
    Nita King advanced, all smiles.
    â€œIt is Mrs. Grey? I’m sure it is. And I must apologize for coming at such an hour; but I went to the station to inquire about a parcel, and they kept me an age, simply an age.”
    She shook hands, and looked inquiringly at Julian, breaking into fresh smiles as soon as Amabel mentioned his name.
    â€œBut, Mr. Forsham, fancy meeting you here !”
    â€œAnd why not here?” thought Julian crossly to himself as he handed tea and cake and listened to an unceasing flow of conversation delivered in a high, silvery voice:
    â€œI felt I must come and call at once, because really, I am a stranger here too, and I know how desolate one feels in a new place. I came here, of course, to be near my cousins, the Berkeleys. I shall ask Lady Susan to come and see you too. Such a dear creature, Susan Berkeley, but not really very sociable, I’m afraid. I know some people think she gives herself airs, but I don’t think it’s that, I don’t indeed . Do you?” She turned the rather fascinating hazel eyes upon Julian with a look of appeal.
    â€œRed-haired serpent!” he said to himself, and remarked aloud that Susan Berkeley was one of the best women on earth.
    â€œExactly what I’ve always said. Just a little more sugar please, Mrs. Grey. Yes, the Berkeleys are charming, and I do hope you’ll meet them soon. You know, Mr. Forsham, I’m staying at your old home just now. Mr. Bronson has been so kind to me. He let me have the Lodge—such a ducky little place. But the rain certainly did come in through the roof, so he insisted, absolutely insisted on my coming to stay with him. You see”—turning to Amabel—“his daughter is only just grown up, and perhaps he finds it a little bit dull. Of course there’s Angela’s governess, Mademoiselle Lemoine—you’ll meet her, I expect. She goes everywhere—a charming person.” She paused, and gave a little conscious laugh. “Some people have said that they thought she was just a little too charming—you know what I mean, a