Chapter Fifteen
Felicity, upon hearing the news at breakfast, at once declared her intention of going over to see Joan that morning. Sir Humphrey accused- her of a morbid love of horrors, which imputation she quite blithely admitted. Sir Humphrey himself was very much shocked by what had happened and forbore to rate Frank for disturbing him in the small hours. Although he had so frequently asseverated that he took no interest in crime when not seated in judgement upon it, crime in Upper Nettlefold was assuming so wholesale an aspect that he was induced to inquire into it. From his nephew he got no more than the bare facts, which he said (several times) were shocking.
Mr. Amberley left the breakfast table in the middle of Sir Humphrey's dissertation on hooliganism in These Modern Times, pausing only to recommend his uncle to send his views to one of the Sunday papers. He told Lady Matthews not to expect him to lunch and went out.
Sir Humphrey, cut short in this summary manner, spoke bitterly of the lack of manners of the younger generation. His wife heard him out patiently, merely saying when he had done: "Never mind, my dear. Poor Frank! So worried."
"Was he, Mummy?" Felicity looked up.
"Yes, darling. Of course. Such a lot on his hands. I shall come with you this morning."
Sir Humphrey demanded whether she too had become obsessed with a morbid mania for horrors. She replied placidly that she had not, but she wanted to be driven into Upper Nettlefold.
"Do you mind going to the manor on the way back, mummy?"
"Not at all," said Lady Matthews. "Poor Ludlow. A hundred and two."
"A hundred and two what?" snapped Sir Humphrey.