Chapter 6
As predicted, William did have a fearsome headache next morning, but the day being Tuesday, he still managed to get himself to the bookstore on time. Fortunately, there wasn't much business, and no new stock to catalogue, so William managed to stay out of sight most of the morning, drinking tea and scribbling verse. Uncle Charles was sympathetic to Williams' plight, and kindly left him alone much of the day.
Uncle Charles was rather an odd duck, William thought, watching him bustle about the shop towards closing time. A very handsome man with dark hair and startling blue eyes, he was never at a loss for an attractive woman on his arm. He favored widows, and escorted them to all social functions, which they never would have been able to attend alone. Yet, he never showed any inclination to marry any of them and settle down. In fact, on family occasions, such as Sunday Dinner, he preferred to bring his long time head clerk, Arthur. Arthur lived alone and had no family in England, so Charles felt sorry for him and invited him often. In fact, William had gotten so used to seeing Arthur around the dinner table he had come to think of him as part of the family. Arthur was fair-haired, with sharp features and a subtle wit. He was quiet and bookish, not unlike William himself, but he dealt with the customers with a calm assurance that William envied.
After the excitement of Twelfth Night, it was difficult to get back to the drab world of caring for Mother and getting Amanda packed off to school. He had given Amanda the much-dreaded lecture, and she had promised to attend to her schoolwork this term. As a kind of bribe, William had promised her a new frock, from Elisabeth and Cecily's fashionable dressmaker. Though still a tomboy in many ways, Amanda was growing up, and was feminine to the core and she swore that William would find her grades much improved by term's end. He kissed her and put her on the train with a heavy heart. He missed her noisy exuberance about the house. Without her, the place was as dull as a tomb.
On Friday night, he went with much excitement to the Savoy theatre to meet the Waverlys and their crowd. Arriving a little early, he found Michael and Felicity in the lobby, avoiding the cold. A few minutes later, Beth and Wavy appeared with Cecily and a petite blonde girl, last seen by William dressed as a mummy. She was introduced as Evelyn Fain. The Waverlys were the bearers of some disturbing news. It seemed that a friend of one of Elizabeth's cousins had gone missing. She was a youngish maiden lady, who had lived alone, since the death of her mother, and no one had discovered her absence for days.
"I do believe you met her at the ball," said Elizabeth to William. "Her name is Ethel Abbington. She is a friend to my cousin Mildred, whom I believe you also met. "
Of course, William thought. He had danced with both of them that evening.
Wavy laughed, "That's right, Old William, here, danced with Horsey, Millet Pudding and the Weird Sisters! Not to mention putting mad Daphne into a swoon." He swept into an elaborate bow, "I salute you…you are far more gallant than I."
Elizabeth pouted at her brother, "As host, John, you really should have danced with them yourself. You owe William a debt of gratitude for taking them off your hands. He was just being kind."
William was confused, "Millet pudding?"
Elizabeth laughed, 'Oh…just our little nickname for Cousin Millie. She does rather resemble a pudding, don't you think?"
William was at a loss for words. He had found Millie and the others quite charming, but it was true…Millie did resemble a pudding, and Ethel a horse. And one could well imagine Leora and Lenore intoning, 'Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble.' He was spared from answering when Cecily spoke up.
"But what about Ethel's mysterious disappearance? Do tell."
"The police seem to think that she ran off with a lover. She was last seen with a tall dark haired man, on the night of the ball."
William had a sudden memory of seeing that man with Ethel, and of his champagne induced hallucination of glowing yellow eyes. He shuddered.
"A lover? Ethel? Come now, that's absurd." This from Michael, "What man would want her, except perhaps a jockey?"
Beth tried to suppress her laughter at Michael's remark, "Oh come now Michael, she isn't as bad as all that."
Wavy joined in, "No seriously…has anyone inquired to see if she is registered for the Grand National?"
"John, don't be ridiculous! The Grand National isn't for months!" Beth clasped her gloved hand over her mouth in a vain attempt not to laugh, but finally gave into it, as did the others.
William laughed also, uneasily, though he wasn't sure he entirely got the joke. He looked at Cecily. She wasn't exactly laughing, though her eyes sparkled with mirth. She shook her head. "Beth...you are impossible. What if she has met with foul play?"
This sobered everybody at last. "Well, I certainly wouldn't want anything awful to have happened to the poor thing, We shall just have to leave it in the hands of the police. I am sure they are most competent."
At that moment the ushers opened the inner doors, and Ethel forgotten, they joined the crowds who were taking their seats in the legendary theater.
.