sit quiet for a bit,’ said Meg. ‘I’ll get Gustavus.’
The cat, freed from his basket, settled down before the fire as though he had lived there all his life.
The professor came presently in corduroys and a polo-necked sweater. Cashmere, decided Theodosia. Perhaps if she could save enough money she would buy one instead of spending a week next summer at a bed and breakfast farm.
Meg followed him in with a tray of covered dishes; Theodosia’s breakfasts of cornflakes, toast and, sometimes, a boiled egg paled to oblivion beside this splendid array of bacon, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms and kidneys.
He piled her plate. ‘We must have a good breakfast if we are to go walking, too,’ he observed.
She stared at him across the table. ‘But it is me who is going walking …’
‘You don’t mind if I come, too? Besides, I need your help. I’m going to Worthing to collect a dog; he’ll need a good walk before we bring him back.’
‘A dog?’ said Theodosia. ‘Why is he at Worthing? And you don’t really need me with you.’
He didn’t answer at once. He said easily, ‘He’s a golden Labrador, three years old. He belongs to a friend of mine who has gone to Australia. He’s been in a dog’s home for a week or so until I was free to take him over.’
‘He must be unhappy. But not any more once he’s living with you. If you think it would help to make him feel more at home if I were there, too, I’d like to go with you.’ She frowned. ‘I forgot, I can’t. Gustavus …’
‘He will be quite happy with Meg, who dotes on him.’ He passed her the toast. ‘So that’s settled. It’s a splendid day to be out of doors.’
They had left London behind them and were nearing Dorking when he said, ‘Do you know this part of the country? We’ll leave the main road and go through Billingshurst. We can get back onto the main road just north of Worthing.’
Even in the depths of winter, the country was beautiful, still sparkling from the night frost and the sun shining from a cold blue sky. Theodosia, snug in the warmth and comfort of the car, was in seventh heaven. She couldn’t expect anything as delightful as this unexpected day out to happen again, of course. It had been a kindly quirk of fate which had caused them to meet again.
She said suddenly, ‘That old lady—it seems so unfair that she should be hurt and in hospital while we’re having this glorious ride—’ She stopped then and added awkwardly, ‘What I mean is, I’m having a glorious ride.’
The professor thought of several answers he would have liked to make to that. Instead he said casually, ‘It’s a perfect day, isn’t it? I’m enjoying it, too. Shall we stop for a cup of coffee in Billingshurst?’
When they reached Worthing, he took her to one of the splendid hotels on the seafront where, the shabby raincoat hidden out of sightin the cloakroom, she enjoyed a splendid lunch with him, unconscious of the glances of the other people there, who were intrigued by the vivid ginger of her hair.
It was early afternoon when they reached the dog’s home. He was ready and waiting for them, for he recognized the professor as a friend of his master and greeted him with a dignified bark or two and a good deal of tail-wagging. He was in a pen with a small dog of such mixed parentage that it was impossible to tell exactly what he might be. He had a foxy face and bushy eyebrows, a rough coat, very short legs and a long thin tail. He sat and watched while George the Labrador was handed over and Theodosia said, ‘That little dog, he looks so sad …’
The attendant laughed. ‘He’s been George’s shadow ever since he came; can’t bear to be parted from him. They eat and sleep together, too. Let’s hope someone wants him. I doubt it—he came in off a rubbish dump.’
The professor was looking at Theodosia; he knew with resigned amusement that he was about to become the owner of the little dog. She wasn’t going to ask, but the
The cat, freed from his basket, settled down before the fire as though he had lived there all his life.
The professor came presently in corduroys and a polo-necked sweater. Cashmere, decided Theodosia. Perhaps if she could save enough money she would buy one instead of spending a week next summer at a bed and breakfast farm.
Meg followed him in with a tray of covered dishes; Theodosia’s breakfasts of cornflakes, toast and, sometimes, a boiled egg paled to oblivion beside this splendid array of bacon, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms and kidneys.
He piled her plate. ‘We must have a good breakfast if we are to go walking, too,’ he observed.
She stared at him across the table. ‘But it is me who is going walking …’
‘You don’t mind if I come, too? Besides, I need your help. I’m going to Worthing to collect a dog; he’ll need a good walk before we bring him back.’
‘A dog?’ said Theodosia. ‘Why is he at Worthing? And you don’t really need me with you.’
He didn’t answer at once. He said easily, ‘He’s a golden Labrador, three years old. He belongs to a friend of mine who has gone to Australia. He’s been in a dog’s home for a week or so until I was free to take him over.’
‘He must be unhappy. But not any more once he’s living with you. If you think it would help to make him feel more at home if I were there, too, I’d like to go with you.’ She frowned. ‘I forgot, I can’t. Gustavus …’
‘He will be quite happy with Meg, who dotes on him.’ He passed her the toast. ‘So that’s settled. It’s a splendid day to be out of doors.’
They had left London behind them and were nearing Dorking when he said, ‘Do you know this part of the country? We’ll leave the main road and go through Billingshurst. We can get back onto the main road just north of Worthing.’
Even in the depths of winter, the country was beautiful, still sparkling from the night frost and the sun shining from a cold blue sky. Theodosia, snug in the warmth and comfort of the car, was in seventh heaven. She couldn’t expect anything as delightful as this unexpected day out to happen again, of course. It had been a kindly quirk of fate which had caused them to meet again.
She said suddenly, ‘That old lady—it seems so unfair that she should be hurt and in hospital while we’re having this glorious ride—’ She stopped then and added awkwardly, ‘What I mean is, I’m having a glorious ride.’
The professor thought of several answers he would have liked to make to that. Instead he said casually, ‘It’s a perfect day, isn’t it? I’m enjoying it, too. Shall we stop for a cup of coffee in Billingshurst?’
When they reached Worthing, he took her to one of the splendid hotels on the seafront where, the shabby raincoat hidden out of sightin the cloakroom, she enjoyed a splendid lunch with him, unconscious of the glances of the other people there, who were intrigued by the vivid ginger of her hair.
It was early afternoon when they reached the dog’s home. He was ready and waiting for them, for he recognized the professor as a friend of his master and greeted him with a dignified bark or two and a good deal of tail-wagging. He was in a pen with a small dog of such mixed parentage that it was impossible to tell exactly what he might be. He had a foxy face and bushy eyebrows, a rough coat, very short legs and a long thin tail. He sat and watched while George the Labrador was handed over and Theodosia said, ‘That little dog, he looks so sad …’
The attendant laughed. ‘He’s been George’s shadow ever since he came; can’t bear to be parted from him. They eat and sleep together, too. Let’s hope someone wants him. I doubt it—he came in off a rubbish dump.’
The professor was looking at Theodosia; he knew with resigned amusement that he was about to become the owner of the little dog. She wasn’t going to ask, but the
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