Joyce sat quite quiet on Carter’s other side. She wouldn’t confess it, but driving in the bus made her feel sick. Even riding in a car made her feel rather ill, and the bus was much worse. It would be too dreadful if she were sick with her new coat on for the first time. She kept her hands together in her lap. If they held on to each other as tight as tight she wouldn’t be sick. She wished very much that Meg would sit quiet on Carter’s other side and not jump about and kick with her legs. “Please, please don’t let me be sick,” she said to herself in her secret mind. “Please -please.” And as if it had been an answer, she heard Carter say quite crossly,

“Now, Meg, if you don’t stop flouncing about and going on like a demented thing, I’ll tell your mother, and next time we go shopping you won’t come with us!”

Meg stopped kicking.

“Won’t I?” she said in tones of piercing interest. “Where will I stay, Carter?”

“I know where you’d deserve to stay,” said Carter darkly.

“Where-where-oh, where, Carter?”

Two young men on the other side of the bus pricked up their ears and began to listen. Carter was silent. She knew Meg in this mood. Egg her on, and there was nothing she mightn’t do or say. She looked so fierce that the young men rather withered away, though they kept an eye on Meg.

Meg was enjoying herself. She liked attracting attention, and she loved shocking Carter. If they had not arrived in the Market Square of Langton, there was no saying to what lengths she might not have proceeded. As it was, she was the only one of the three to be disappointed when the bus drew up. Joyce was thankful. She hadn’t been sick, and going back she must sit with her eyes shut all the way, which was very dull. But she wouldn’t be sick if she did that. She might even go to sleep.

They went across the Square to Moxton Street, and by the time they got there Joyce was feeling quite herself. Meg walked along discreetly, her right hand in Carter’s left. She looked the very picture of a good little girl and would continue to do so while Carter had hold of her. But inside, in her own mind, things were very different. She was a Prisoner and Carter was the Wardress, and she was being taken to a Court of Law where she would be sentenced. Joyce was the humble attendant. Not in any danger.

They went into the biggest shop in Moxton Street. Its name was Jakers. That of course was a blind. And then quite suddenly with all the excitements of the shop round her Meg abandoned the drama of being a prisoner and gave herself up to the delights of the shop. She pulled at Carter’s sleeve with her free hand.

“Carter-Carter!”

“Well, what is it?” said Carter crossly.

“I’ve stopped what I was doing-I really have! I’m sorry, and I’ll be ever so good-I really will! But please don’t hold my hand in the shop! And Joyce and me we’ve both got a half-crown to spend! Can we-”

“If you mean can you wander all over the shop like a wild animal, the answer is no!” said Carter.

“Oh, I didn’t want to do that,” said Meg in a shocked voice. “Only for Joyce and me to look round whilst you get Mother’s ribbons.”

Carter hesitated and was lost.

“You’ll not get into trouble?”

“I’ll keep tight hold of Joyce’s hand-I promise you I will.”

Carter turned to the counter where the ribbons waited for her choice, and Meg pounced on Joyce.

“There are some lovely things along here. Come and look!”

Meg was skilful. She kept near enough to Carter, but not too near. She examined with the deepest interest all the things that she would have liked to buy. Presently she was standing by the model of an exquisitely shaped female leg which set out the beauties of a superfine nylon stocking surmounted by a garter with a paste buckle.

“Ooh!” she said. “I like that!”

“Why is there only one leg?” said Joyce fretfully.

“It’s to show the stocking, silly!” said Meg.

And then there were two ladies, not young, and they were talking together, and one of them said,

“That horrid murder on Hazeldon Heath-”

Joyce hadn’t heard. She was looking at a little dog away on the far side of the shop. She pulled her hand out of Meg’s and ran over to it.

Meg stood her ground. She knew that Jenny was at Hazeldon, because Miss Crampton had said so. And Mrs. Merridew who was Miss Crampton’s cousin lived right next door to where Jenny was. Mary the housemaid had told her all about it, but not about the murder. It wasn’t Jenny who was murdered-it couldn’t be Jenny! Meg found she was shaking all over. It wasn’t Jenny-it couldn’t be Jenny! Why should anyone want to murder Jenny? She had missed something, but not much. She heard one of the ladies say,

“I used to know a Miss Danesworth. Such a very uncommon name. I wonder if it’s the same. I think it must be, because I remember that she lived in a village not so very far away, and-yes, I’m sure it was Hazeldon. Well then, she was giving evidence at the inquest. This girl who was killed was at her house just before it happened. There was a girl staying with her too-Jenny Forbes I think the name was.”

Meg stood with her eyes and ears wide open. Why was Jenny calling herself Forbes? She couldn’t make it out at all. Mary the housemaid had blenched at repeating all the village gossip on the subject, so Meg had no clue.

She was very quiet all the way home. And she forgot to spend her half-crown.

Chapter XXXV

All the questions which Meg wanted to ask churned in her till the next morning. She managed, however, to run upstairs whilst Mary was making the beds.

“Can I help you, Mary?” she said. “I’ve got a few minutes.”

“Well, it’s Carter’s business really, but I suppose she thinks herself too grand for the making of beds.”

“I’ll help you. I’d like to,” said Meg.

Mary gave her a sharp glance. What was the child up to, she’d like to know. Something, she’d be bound. Well, it would come out, good or bad.

They had half made Joyce’s bed before anything came. Then Meg said,

“You know the big shop in Langton-the one where you can get everything-boots, and shoes, and boxes, and knives, and dresses, and hats-”

“Jakers,” said Mary. “Of course I know it. It’s a very good shop. What about it? Did you go there yesterday?”

Meg nodded as she turned down the sheet.

“Yes, we did. And when we were on the other side of the shop from Carter there was a little dog playing, and Joyce pulled her hand out of mine and ran to look at it, but I stayed where I was.”

“You ought to have gone with Joyce,” said Mary.

Meg straightened the eiderdown on her side of the bed.

“No,” she said, “I wanted to listen. There were two ladies at the counter quite close to me, and they were talking. And what do you think they were talking about? You’ll never guess.”

Mary pricked up her ears. What in the world had the child got hold of now? She said, “Couldn’t say, I’m sure,” and waited for more.

It came, as she knew that it would.

“They were talking about Jenny-at least I think it must have been Jenny they meant, only they’d got her name wrong. They called her Jenny Forbes. Jenny Forbes-just think! As if she was our cousin!”

Mary said, “That’s as may be,” and flung the bedspread over for Meg to catch and straighten out on her side.

They moved to the other bed, but before they got there Meg caught Mary by the wrist with a cold little hand and said,

“She’s not our cousin, is she? I wish she was, but I don’t see how she could be. Mary, do tell me! There’s something going on-I know there is. About Jenny, I mean. Why did she run away in the night like she did? And why does she call herself Jenny Forbes? Oh, Mary, do tell me!”

“I can’t, Meg-I really can’t. Your mother would send me away as soon as look at me if I did.”