Here
comes Lord Maltenby to tell you so," she added, glancing towards
the door.
Lord Maltenby was very pompous, very stiff, and yet apologetic.
He considered the whole affair in which he had become involved
ridiculous.
"Miss Abbeway," he said, "I beg to present to you Colonel
Henderson. An unfortunate occurrence took place here last night,
which it has become the duty of--er--Colonel Henderson to clear
up. He wishes to ask you a question concerning--er--a
motor-car."
Colonel Henderson frowned. He stepped a little forward with the
air of wishing to exclude the Earl from further speech.
"May I ask, Miss Abbeway," he began, "whether the small coupe car,
standing about a hundred yards down the back avenue, is yours?"
"It is," she assented, with a little sigh. "It won't go."
"It won't go?" the Colonel repeated.
"I thought you might know something about cars," she explained.
"They tell me that two of the sparking plugs are cracked. I am
thinking of replacing them tomorrow morning, if I can get Mr.
Orden to help me."
"How long has the car been there in its present condition, then?"
the Colonel enquired.
"Since about five o'clock yesterday afternoon," she replied.
"You don't think it possible that it could have been out on the
road anywhere last night, then?"
"Out on the road!" she laughed. "Why, I couldn't get it up to the
garage! You go and look at it, Colonel, if you understand cars.
Fellowes, the chauffeur here, had a look at the plugs when I
brought it in, and you'll find that they haven't been touched.
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