Just then Egbert entered the breakfast-room, wearing an air of
bereavement that Laura's demise would have been insufficient, in itself,
to account for.
"Four of my speckled Sussex have been killed," he exclaimed; "the very
four that were to go to the show on Friday. One of them was dragged away
and eaten right in the middle of that new carnation bed that I've been to
such trouble and expense over. My best flower bed and my best fowls
singled out for destruction; it almost seems as if the brute that did the
deed had special knowledge how to be as devastating as possible in a
short space of time."
"Was it a fox, do you think?" asked Amanda.
"Sounds more like a polecat," said Sir Lulworth.
"No," said Egbert, "there were marks of webbed feet all over the place,
and we followed the tracks down to the stream at the bottom of the
garden; evidently an otter."
Amanda looked quickly and furtively across at Sir Lulworth.
Egbert was too agitated to eat any breakfast, and went out to superintend
the strengthening of the poultry yard defences.
"I think she might at least have waited till the funeral was over," said
Amanda in a scandalised voice.
"It's her own funeral, you know," said Sir Lulworth; "it's a nice point
in etiquette how far one ought to show respect to one's own mortal
remains."
Disregard for mortuary convention was carried to further lengths next
day; during the absence of the family at the funeral ceremony the
remaining survivors of the speckled Sussex were massacred.
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