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THE SERPENT’S TOOTH
THE SERPENT’S
TOOTH
BY
B. M. CROKER
NEW YORK
BRENTANO’S
1913
Printed in Great Britain
CHAPTER I
COLONEL FENCHURCH stood on his ownhearthstone—that is to say, the smoking-roomrug—with his back to the fire, and a cup of tea in hishand. He was a good-looking dapper little man, witha neat white moustache, a cheery voice, and an unfailingflow of talk.
“I say, Doodie,” turning to a lady in a splashedhabit, who was meditatively consuming butteredtoast, “weren’t the roads beastly? Just look at myboots and leathers!”
Doodie, his wife, nodded, but made no otherreply.
“A clinking run,” he continued, “and a lot of thosethrusters got left—you went well—eh?—that was anasty place out of the round plantation!—on thewhole—a good hard day!”
Once more his better-half inclined her hatted head;evidently her mind was preoccupied. She was staringfixedly at a certain pattern in the carpet, with a remoteand far-away gaze; a plain weather-beaten lady whoseage—much discussed among her acquaintances—was[2]probably five-and-forty; her habit displayed a slightsquare-shouldered figure; a pot hat pushed to theback of her head disclosed the inevitable red mark,a long but aristocratic nose, and a clever resolutecountenance.
Dorothy Fenchurch was a notable example of thestrong-willed active woman, mated to a weak, easy-going,good-tempered man: and the match had proveda conspicuous success. In the opinion of Tom Fenchurch,no wife in the County was fit to hold a candleto his wonderful Dorothy—what a housekeeper, horsewoman,companion!—and for her part, his Dorothywas contented. Greedy of influence, social anddomestic, she thoroughly enjoyed the rôle of managerand mentor. How much more satisfactory to rule ina small establishment, and over a limited circle, thanto languish at home, the insignificant member of animportant house, who kept their women-folk inflexiblyin the background; and so it came to pass that twelveyears previously, the Honourable Dorothy Claremontbestowed her hand and her fortu