The Twisted Root Page 0,8

did not; they read expressions, understood what was left unsaid.

"Of course." Stourbridge led the way out into the hall. "She will be in her sitting room at this hour."

Monk followed him up the wide, curving staircase and this time had an opportunity to look more closely at the magnificently plastered ceiling and the carving on the newel post at the top of the banister.

Stourbridge crossed the landing. A long window looked over the smooth lawn, and Monk caught a glimpse of croquet hoops still set up. It looked peaceful in the sun, a place of quiet happiness, family games, and afternoon tea in the summer. Trees sheltered hydrangeas beyond, their last flowers dropping in a blaze of color onto the dark earth beneath.

Stourbridge knocked on the third door along, and at a murmur from inside, opened it, ushering Monk in.

"My dear, this is Mr. Monk," he introduced them. "He has promised to assist us in finding Miriam."

Mrs. Stourbridge was sitting on a large chintz-covered chair, a scrapbook of poetry and photographs spread open on the cherry-wood table beside her where she had apparently laid it when interrupted. Her resemblance to her son was clear even at a glance. She had the same dark eyes and slender line of cheek and throat. Her hair grew from her brow in the same broad sweep. If Lucius had indeed come to see her, as his father had suggested, he had not remained long. She looked at Monk with concern. "How do you do," she said gravely. "Please come in. Tell me how I can help my son."

Monk accepted and sat in the chair opposite her. It was more comfortable than its straight back would have suggested, and the bright, warm room would, in any other circumstances, have been restful. Now he was searching his mind for questions to ask this woman which could help him to understand what had driven Miriam Gardiner to such extraordinary flight.

Stourbridge excused himself and left them.

Verona Stourbridge looked at Monk steadily, waiting.

There was no time for skirting around the edges of meaning.

"Would you please describe Mrs. Gardiner for me?" he asked. He wanted a picture in his mind, not only to allow him to imagine her himself but to know how Mrs. Stourbridge saw her.

She looked surprised. "Where will you look, Mr. Monk? We have no idea where she could have gone. Obviously, we have already tried her home, and she has not returned there. Her housemaid had not heard from her since she left to come here."

"I would like a woman's view of her," he explained. "Rather less romantic, and perhaps more accurate."

"Oh. I see. Yes, of course." She leaned back. She was slender, probably in her mid-forties, and there was a natural elegance in the way she held her hands and in the sweep of her huge skirts over the chair. Looking at her face, Monk thought her observation of Miriam Gardiner would be clear and unsentimental, perhaps the first that might offer some genuine insight into her character. He watched her attentively.

"She is of average height," Verona began, measuring her words. "Perhaps a trifle plumper than would be the choice for a young woman. I daresay my son has already told you she was at least nine years older than he?"

"At least?" he questioned. "You mean she admitted to nine but you personally think it might be more?"

She shrugged delicately without answering. "She has excellent hair, fair and thick and with a becoming natural wave," she continued. "Blue eyes, quite good complexion and teeth. Altogether a generous face indicating good nature and at least averagely good health. She dressed becomingly, but without extravagance. I should imagine well within a moderate income."

"She sounds a paragon of virtues, Mrs. Stourbridge," Monk remarked a little dryly. "I do not yet see a woman of flesh and blood - indeed, a real woman at all - merely a recital of admirable qualities."

Her eyebrows rose sharply. She stared at him with chill, then as he stared back, gradually she relaxed.

"I see," she conceded. "Of course. You asked me what she looked like. She was most pleasing. Her character was also agreeable, but she was not incapable of independent thought. You are asking me if she had faults? Of course. She was stubborn at times. She had some strange and unsuitable views on certain social issues. She was overfamiliar with the servants, which caused difficulties now and then. I think she had much to learn in the running of a house