Lord Harold Kilterbury was a very curious old man. In reality, he was about sixty years old, but he appeared to be about a hundred and six, an effect which he sought to produce through an unshakable expression of mistrust which plastered his face whenintroduced
/to friends of his wife.

It appeared, though she recalled it only vaguely, that Miss Marple had been at school with his wife Geraldine.

Lady Kilterbury, or Miss Heartfield as she had been then, had been called (for some inexplicable reason) Bonnie. And, though not frightfully unattractive, she was the plainer of her two friends: Ann Chapman, who was lovely in a foreign way, and Lizzie
/Walters,who had been 'walking out', as they say, with a terribly wealthy young heir.

Lizzie, who had been put in the family way by an engineer she had been having an affair with, disappeared off the face of the earth soon after the birth of her son. Which was really quite a pity, Miss Marple reflected, for she was really the brightest
/of the three, and Miss Deering (the headmistress) expected her to go the farthest.

And dear Ann - so refreshingly exotic. But, Miss Marple reasoned, one ought only to tell people 'I'd rather not say' when asked about one's parentage, and it would create most effectively a mysterious aura. They'd found out, long after she'd leftthe
/school, that she'd been the daughter of a rather unsuccessful farmer in Cornwall.

But Bonnie was quite a diligent girl, and she'd been the only one of the three girls to have made something of herself. Jane Marple wondered if Bonnie had invited the other girls as well.

Kilterbury House was a two-hour drive from London, so Miss Marple motored down in a fitful rented car paid for by Raymond. She arrived at about half-past twelve, and stayed in the car for a quarter of an hour before venturing up the garden path tothe
/door of the House, feeling slightly embarrassed for being unpleasantly early for the luncheon.

A faded-looking woman opened the door, and pushed up her pince-nez in recognition as she realized who her petticoat-clad visitor was.

'Jane!' Bonnie Kilterbury cried, flinging her bony arms around her former classmate. 'It's been absolutely ages!'

Miss Marple agreed, a shade less vehemently, wondering at Bonnie's newly acquired accent.

'Have you,' Miss Marple began, setting down her attaché-case on the pink marble floor of Kilterbury House. 'Been in America since we met last?'

'Australia, dear,' Lady Kilterbury explained, calling a stiff-collared young maid to take Miss Marple's things. 'I was married once before, but widowed quite quickly, thank goodness, or I'd have never met Harry - hello, darling.'

LordHarold swaggeredinto the room, scrunching up his face like an ancient tortoise, and kissed Bonnie's silver head.

'Who's this, Gerry?' Lord Kilterbury asked, suspiciously.

'I've - er - given up being called Bonnie. Harry doesn't like it very much,' Lady Kilterbury fluttered.

'I see,' Miss Marple smiled. 'I do hope I'm not the first to arrive - I do so hate being early to things.'

'You needn't worry about that. Lizzie's arrived. Oh, Harold, this is a former classmate of mine, Jane - you are unmarried, aren't you? - Marple.'

'Delighted,' Lord Kilterbury replied, sounding less than elated.

'You said Lizzie's arrived?' Miss Marple asked, kindly.

'Yes,' Geraldine answered, excitedly. 'Only she's Mrs Fenn now.'

'Don't gossip, Gerry,' her husband scolded. 'Introduce the old biddy to the godforsaken woman if you want, but don't gossip.'

'Of course, Harold,' Bonnie - Gerry, rather - smiled quickly. 'Just this way, Jane.'

Lizzie Fenn sat in the Yellow Room of the house, with an attractive young man sitting in an armchair by her.

'Jane!' Lizzie stood up from her easy-chair, offering a scarlet-nailed hand for Jane to shake. Lizzie, in her avatar as Mrs Fenn, still cut quite an impressive figure, with auburn hair neatly bobbed, and lips and cheeks that were respectivelypainted
/and caked with rouge.

'This must be your son,' Jane remarked, referring to the man that in the armchair that was shadowed by a potted fern.

'Yes,' Lizzie smiled, with sharp white teeth. 'Aubrey, this is a school friend of mine - Miss Marple.'

Aubrey Fenn stood up, and displayeda charming half-smile through closed lips. He was dark-haired and had hazeleyes that glittered when he smiled.

'How very lovely,' he said huskily. 'You must have been the fifthgirl in that photograph by the swimming-pool.'

Miss Marple looked at Lady Kilterbury questioningly, wondering which photograph it was.

'It's rather a recreation of mine,' Gerry said apologetically, opening a walnut bureau silently, and taking out a picture in a wooden frame. 'I was wondering if I could find all the people in the photograph.'

'Rather a cold trail,' laughed Aubrey, with the skepticism of the young.

'I remembered you quite well, Jane,' Gerry said eagerly. 'And I find Raymond West's stuff quite wonderful, so when I read in the preface of An Aunt or Two that Aunt Frederica was based on clever Miss Jane Marple, I telephoned his people and
/tracked you down, and then I sent you the letter of invitation.'

'Tell them about Mum,' Aubrey urged.

'I was getting to it, Aubrey. I read the obituary notice of Terence Fenn, and found that his widow was Elizabeth Angela Fenn, née Walters. Your middle name was quite a stroke of luck - ' Geraldine chortled lightly. 'And I rang up to offer my

recognized my voice at once, so I sent in the invitation to the forwarding address she told me.'

Geraldine Kilterbury looked as lean and eager as a greyhound, panting softly from the strain of recollection.

'What about Ann?' Lizzie asked.

'Now how…?' Lady Kilterbury squirmed for a moment, adjusting her pince-nez nervously. 'Oh, yes. We received a wedding invitation from a crony of my husband's - Major Leech - and he was marrying his secretary. Ann Chapman!'

Yes, Miss Marple nodded faintly. Bonnie was a diligent girl.

'What about the fifth girl?' Miss Marple queried.

'Well,' Lizzie Fennsaid, combing through her hair with her hands. 'She was killed the year we graduated.'