“Come in, come in, have you eaten yet?” Watson asked as he motioned a stuffed chair for me to occupy. “Just what I was going to ask,” the cheery voice of his younger wife added, as she and her husband sat across from me on a smaller sofa holding hands in an unconscious display of affection. “No thank you on the food, I have just eaten a lavish meal at Mycroft’s club,” I said. “ but I will accept your invitation to spend the night.” “Will you join me in a late brandy?” Watson asked. “No thank you again, Mycroft had provided me an after dinner brandy.” “You must have been called up suddenly, Sherlock, I just left you yesterday and I see you do not have an overnight bag. I can supply you with toiletries and a hearty breakfast in the morning.” Watson offered. His eager eyes preceded his next question. “What adventure has summoned you back to the city and how did you solve it so quickly?” Watson inquired. I spent the next quarter hour describing the incident of Mr. Rawlings, leaving enough out and vaguely answering intruding questions brought up by the keen interest of Watson. He was familiar enough with me to know that I was not telling him everything, but he was diplomatically discrete enough not to press me. He knew I had cases that I fully disclosed intimate details for his publication, and there are those that require discretion, at least for the immediate future or permanently closed for review. He was not offended that this was one of discretion and did not impose on me for more than I offered. I did not bring up the visit from his nephew, as I did not want to do any explanation of why he came to me and what he briefed me on. I would have like to mention that I had met him, but that would have brought on the unwelcomed questions, and I know that Jack said he did not want it known he was in England at this time. Christy stood up and said, “I know you two want to talk some more, but I will retire for the night. Are you sure I cannot get you something to eat or drink before I go?” “No thank you my dear,” I surprisingly found myself addressing her with uncharacteristically familiarity for me, not because she was Watson’s wife, but because of her intimate manner that brought you into her close companionship. Watson watched her excuse herself and leave the room with what could definitely be described as puppy dog eyes. “You certainly caught a pretty one for your old age, my friend,” I teased him. “You have got that right, Holmes,” Watson declared. “You must be mellowing in your old age. You have not previously commented on the looks of a woman, only her intelligence.” “Well, I can tell that she suits you old boy, and I know you will not tolerate the dull minded female any more than I.” “She does have a sharp mind,” Watson asserted, “But something else does prick my interest. Tell me if you can, now that she has left us alone, does this case involve the subject you brought up during my visit. Have you encountered something that proves that villain we thought finished has returned?” “I truly cannot say for certain one way or the other, my old friend. But there are events and situations that must be probed and pursued.” “Well I can tell you have had a long day, Holmes. And since you are reticent to elaborate any further on this particular subject, and we have discussed most other things on my recent visit with you, let’s call it a night so that you can rest before you catch the early train back.” Watson led me to the spare bedroom and insured I had settled in, then bade me a good night’s rest.
Regal Revelation. How I hate waiting developments, especially when I am contributing nothing and cannot act until results are returned. I had come back to my beloved bee-farm the next day. The trip back on the train was uneventful. The station was as I had left it. I decided not to ride back to my home, but to enjoy the walk back. I cut across the green grass to intercept the winding road closer to my destination. The birds were calling to each other as they circled and bob amongst the trees and bushes. The insects were buzzing about, coming close enough to cause me to wave them off several times. I was sure there must be a few of my own bees pollinating the colorful flowers I strolled amongst. The trees provided welcoming shade from the hot sun, even after my brief walk across the train station lawn. Some day the trains will not spew forth some much soot that one has to ride with a coat and hat to preserve cleanliness. But it was not too heavy, and I had decided I would carry it back rather than wear it. A stray dog I thought I recognized as the pub’s hound, came upon me and sniffed me up properly before abandoning me to my saunter as he sought more interesting quarry in a squirrel that had run in front of us during his close inspection of my pant trousers.