The Little Nugget | Page 5

said softly.
Cynthia checked a yawn.
'Very well, dear,' she said. 'I caught the 10.20 to Eastnor, which isn't a

bad train, if you ever want to go down there. I arrived at a quarter past
twelve, and went straight up to the house--you've never seen the house,
of course? It's quite charming--and told the butler that I wanted to see
Mr Ford on business. I had taken the precaution to find out that he was
not there. He is at Droitwich.'
'Rheumatism,' murmured Mrs Ford. 'He has it sometimes.'
'The man told me he was away, and then he seemed to think that I
ought to go. I stuck like a limpet. I sent him to fetch Ogden's tutor. His
name is Broster--Reggie Broster. He is a very nice young man. Big,
broad shoulders, and such a kind face.'
'Yes, dear, yes?'
'I told him I was doing a series of drawings for a magazine of the
interiors of well-known country houses.'
'He believed you?'
'He believed everything. He's that kind of man. He believed me when I
told him that my editor particularly wanted me to sketch the staircase.
They had told me about the staircase at the inn. I forget what it is
exactly, but it's something rather special in staircases.'
'So you got in?'
'So I got in.'
'And saw Ogden?'
'Only for a moment--then Reggie--'
'Who?'
'Mr Broster. I always think of him as Reggie. He's one of Nature's
Reggies. Such a kind, honest face. Well, as I was saying, Reggie
discovered that it was time for lessons, and sent Ogden upstairs.'
'By himself?'
'By himself! Reggie and I chatted for a while.'
Mrs Ford's eyes opened, brown and bright and hard.
'Mr Broster is not a proper tutor for my boy,' she said coldly.
'I suppose it was wrong of Reggie,' said Cynthia. 'But--I was wearing
this hat.'
'Go on.'
'Well, after a time, I said I must be starting my work. He wanted me to
start with the room we were in. I said no, I was going out into the
grounds to sketch the house from the EAST. I chose the EAST because
it happens to be nearest the railway station. I added that I supposed he

sometimes took Ogden for a little walk in the grounds. He said yes, he
did, and it was just about due. He said possibly he might come round
my way. He said Ogden would be interested in my sketch. He seemed
to think a lot of Ogden's fondness for art.'
'Mr Broster is not a proper tutor for my boy.'
'Well, he isn't your boy's tutor now, is he, dear?'
'What happened then?'
'I strolled off with my sketching things. After a while Reggie and
Ogden came up. I said I hadn't been able to work because I had been
frightened by a bull.'
'Did he believe _that_?'
'Certainly he believed it. He was most kind and sympathetic. We had a
nice chat. He told me all about himself. He used to be very good at
football. He doesn't play now, but he often thinks of the past.'
'But he must have seen that you couldn't sketch. Then what became of
your magazine commission story?'
'Well, somehow the sketch seemed to get shelved. I didn't even have to
start it. We were having our chat, you see. Reggie was telling me how
good he had been at football when he was at Oxford, and he wanted me
to see a newspaper clipping of a Varsity match he had played in. I said
I'd love to see it. He said it was in his suit-case in the house. So I
promised to look after Ogden while he fetched it. I sent him off to get it
just in time for us to catch the train. Off he went, and here we are. And
now, won't you order that lunch you mentioned? I'm starving.'
Mrs Ford rose. Half-way to the telephone she stopped suddenly.
'My dear child! It has only just struck me! We must leave here at once.
He will have followed you. He will guess that Ogden has been
kidnapped.'
Cynthia smiled.
'Believe me, it takes Reggie quite a long time to guess anything.
Besides, there are no trains for hours. We are quite safe.'
'Are you sure?'
'Absolutely. I made certain of that before I left.'
Mrs Ford kissed her impulsively.
'Oh, Cynthia, you really are wonderful!'
She started back with a cry as the bell rang sharply.
'For goodness' sake, Nesta,' said Cynthia, with irritation, 'do keep

control of yourself. There's nothing to be frightened about. I tell you Mr
Broster can't possibly have got here in the time, even if he knew where
to go to, which I don't see how he could. It's probably