I was in no mood to give free play to whatever I may have in the way of a sense of humour. But Mrs. Arbuthnot's scheme, doubtful as it was on the score of morality, had at least the merit of diverting the current of my thoughts into another channel. It certainly did something to lessen the tension.
Mrs. Arbuthnot laid her plans with considerable precaution. She had a long and extremely animated conversation over the telephone with the Chief Constable. I could almost hear the great man growl and chuckle as she expounded her wicked design. But in the end he was unable to resist her and he was in her net as well. Jodey and Brasset, of course, were only too eager to lend a hand, and both agreed with her "that they all deserved to be scored off properly." Personally, the workings of the "scoring-off" process were a little too much for my enfeebled mental system, but I was informed peremptorily that I always was a dull dog.
Determined to leave nothing to chance, Mrs. Arbuthnot even went to the length of taking Fitz into her confidence.
"You know, Nevil," she said, engagingly, "how they have behaved to Sonia and what they have said about her behind her back."
"What have they said?" Fitz's indifference bordered upon the sublime.
"Why, don't you know?" Mrs. Arbuthnot transfixed the Man of Destiny with starlike orbs. "Don't you know that when Laura Glendinning found out that Sonia rides just as straight as she does and that she looks much smarter, it made her frightfully jealous?"
"Did it indeed!" grunted the Man of Destiny.
"And can you believe, Nevil,"—the starlike orbs grew ever rounder and more luminous—"she circulated the story that dear Sonia was a circus rider from Vienna!"
"Oh, really!" Fitz concealed a yawn in a rather perfunctory manner.
"And, what is more, she got everybody to believe it."