Free Devil's Wind by Patricia Wentworth Page A

liked him, but if all that one hears is true, I am sorry for him. He was a most interfering person as Adjutant. I am sure he used to make my poor Colonel quite ill. Always fussing about, and wanting to manage everything and everybody. But if half one hears is true, he can’t manage his wife. Elle est très vite ,” she added in a thrilling undertone, and felt happily convinced that she had informed Mrs. Marsh of the scandalous fact that Adela Morton was fast.
    â€œOh, really!”
    â€œYes, I fear it is too true. Trop vrai . My friend, Mrs. Blacker, who was in Murree last year, wrote me des histoires très,—très —er—shocking, I do assure you. Had it not been for Captain Morton’s former connection with the regiment, I really do not know that I should have called. Je ne peux pas dire. Il faut considerer mes filles. As it is I shall not encourage any intimacy with Milly and Carrie, and I shall keep my distance. Mrs. Elliot, how is your baby?”
    â€œI believe it is quite well,” said Mrs. Elliot indifferently. “The ayah would have told me if anything were wrong.”
    â€œThe ayah!”
    â€œYes—don’t you think it is so much better for one person to manage a child? I don’t interfere.”
    â€œGrace!” murmured Mrs. Monson.
    She turned to her hostess with a quick, birdlike movement.
    â€œHow curious that the Mortons should have been sent here!” she exclaimed.
    â€œVery tactless, I call it,” said Mrs. Crowther. She drew herself up, and the green silk bodice, made in slimmer days, receded dangerously.
    â€œTactless?” inquired Mrs. Elliot. “Oh— of course—I see. Yes, it really is when you come to think of it. Of course he takes precedence of Colonel Crowther.”
    â€œOh, no,” protested Mrs. Marsh.
    Mrs. Crowther inclined her head—just in time.
    â€œBut he is only officiating.”
    â€œThat makes no difference.”
    â€œHow wrong! And she?”
    Mrs. Crowther once more imperilled her shoulder-straps.
    â€œIf any one imagines that I am going to walk out of any dining-room but my own behind my own Adjutant’s wife, well— je ne veux pas, c’est tout! ” and Mrs. Crowther rose with majesty to greet a further instalment of guests.
    â€œHow do you do, Captain Blake. You are to take Miss Wilmot in to dinner; you have not met her, of course. Oh—you have—I should scarcely have thought it possible, since you only returned from Cawnpore yesterday. You must have called this morning—really you were most prompt. Mrs. Morton should be flattered. How do you do, Mr. Purslake; you will take my daughter Carrie. Carrie, show Mr. Purslake the last drawing you made. Milly, go and tell your papa that it is getting very late. Oh, here are the Mortons. How do you do, Captain Morton. And which of these two ladies is your wife? Oh, not this one. Really, Miss Wilmot, I should have taken you for the married lady; you look so much graver than your cousin.”
    â€œA bad compliment to me,” said Richard Morton, laughing. “Why should I be expected to have a depressing effect upon my wife, Mrs. Crowther?”
    â€œI alluded to the cares and responsibilities of the married state,” said the lady, in her most tremendous tones, and Captain Morton discovered some intention in the glance with which she favoured Adela.
    He hastened to greet his old Colonel, who had just wandered into the room, convoyed by his daughter Milly. Colonel Crowther was small, and wore the worried air of a man whose digestion is not at peace within. He gave Richard two chilly fingers, and an absent glance, and was drifting in the direction of Dr. Darcy whom he wished to consult about a new symptom, when he encountered his wife, who despatched him to the dining-room with Adela.
    Helen Wilmot, after admitting to Dr. Darcy that she liked India, and had been out nearly three years, applied herself to her