Appleby and the Ospreys by Michael Innes Page A

or, indeed, murdered at all. Unless, I suppose, the man who did the murder. And perhaps he didn’t expect it, either. We haven’t been told much, but it does sound as if it had been rather an impromptu affair.’
    ‘One can’t help reflecting that it changes Adrian’s future dramatically. Now, can we, dear?’
    ‘It certainly changes the young man’s situation. About his future, one just doesn’t know.’
    ‘I fail to see any real distinction, Honoria. You are rather too fond of drawing distinctions, it seems to me. I put it down to Oxford and that absurd fellowship at your college there. Who ever heard of a woman being a fellow? Of course, I quite acknowledge that that was a distinction, and a credit to the family, and so on. Your father was extremely pleased. But there are other sides of life that have to be considered.’
    ‘Birth, and copulation, and death.’
    ‘My dear Honoria!’ Lady Wimpole, unaware that this summation of things had been offered by an extremely high Anglican, was greatly shocked.
    ‘And just what was absurd about that fellowship?’
    ‘Of course nothing at all, dear. I spoke too hastily. Only, for a woman to be called a fellow does sound a little odd. When one talks about a jolly good fellow one means something the same as calling a man a nice chap.’
    ‘What a very silly conversation.’ Honoria, although a reasonably dutiful daughter, did occasionally find her mother getting on her nerves. ‘Anyway, I’m not a fellow any more. I’m a curator. Of course, I could ask the Director if I might be called a curatrix, explaining that my mother would like it better.’
    ‘Do come back to Adrian Osprey, dear, and talk sense. It’s his changed prospects that are so unexpected. He might have had thirty years ahead of him – or even longer than that – simply as the heir to a title, perhaps on slender means. Not that that wouldn’t be something.’
    ‘I haven’t heard of him as doing much to enlarge his means. Has he any profession? I certainly don’t recall its having been mentioned in the course of family chat.’
    ‘It’s a difficult position for a young man to be in, Honoria. And, of course, it’s early days with dear Adrian yet. He is so very young.’
    ‘Younger than I am by several years, I rather think.’
    ‘And there’s certainly a point there .’ Lady Wimpole was so convinced of the cogency of this that her speech almost became impressive. ‘There is a tide in the affairs of men,’ she said unexpectedly, ‘which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. But–’
    ‘So, Mama, you pretty well want the funeral baked meats coldly to furnish forth the marriage tables. The death of Oliver Osprey in one column of The Times , and my engagement to Adrian Osprey in another column of the same issue.’
    Lady Wimpole, who had given immediate thought to this point, and had decided that a week, or even ten days, should separate these announcements, was very justly offended by this last speech on her daughter’s part.
    ‘Really, Honoria,’ she said, ‘if you have only the most frivolous thoughts about Adrian – an honourable young man (nobleman, indeed) who is ready to be devoted to you–’
    ‘Now we come to sheer nonsense.’ Honoria suddenly gave signs of being really angry. ‘What scrap of evidence have you got that Adrian is prepared to do anything of the sort? He seems to me to be rather a decent young man, if in a somewhat immature and farouche way, but I am very sure he hasn’t been making eyes at me. If he did, if he were to ask me to marry him, I’d refuse him on the instant. And I’d tell him to go away and find a nice girl of his own age, with his own tastes and interests. Or, for that matter, with his own lack of anything of the kind.’
    Had Lady Wimpole been a perceptive woman, she might have derived some comfort from the very extremity of this. As it was, she simply lost patience with Honoria.
    ‘If that’s what you feel,’ she cried, ‘I don’t