Celia's House by D. E. Stevenson Page B

but—”
    â€œYou knew she intended to humiliate Maurice and me.”
    â€œI knew nothing,” repeated Cousin Henrietta. “I knew nothing at all about it, but I think Aunt Celia was very wise to leave the place to Humphrey.”
    â€œIt was just like her,” cried Nina. “Horrible, deceitful old woman! When I think of all I’ve done for her—and all the times I’ve stayed in this nasty shabby old house—”
    â€œReally, Nina—”
    â€œIt’s Humphrey’s fault,” she declared. “Yes, I can see the whole thing. That’s why he came here in June, to wheedle the old lady, to flatter her and insinuate himself into her good graces…”
    She had raged on, but Humphrey had not replied. His face had gone hard, hard like a stone, only his eyes had blazed.
    When Nina had finished, Maurice began again, “I shall see my lawyer,” he declared, spluttering with rage.
    â€œYou had better see your doctor as well,” put in Cousin Henrietta, raising her voice above the din. “You are not at all a good color, Maurice; I would be afraid of apoplexy if I were you.”
    It was at this point that Alice had left the room (she had gotten up and gone, and nobody had noticed her departure). She had been obliged to leave the room because she was almost certain she was going to faint.
    â€œIt was awful,” said Alice again.
    â€œIt sounded awful,” said Becky, nodding. “I could hear the noise from the top landing.”
    â€œShe said Humphrey was a snake in the grass.”
    â€œDid she?” Becky asked soothingly. “Well, who cares what she says. Mr. Humphrey is a very nice gentleman indeed.”
    â€œShe was the worst,” declared Alice.
    â€œShe would be,” agreed Becky, “but never mind. They’ve gone away. You have another cup of tea and forget about it.”
    â€œI can’t,” Alice said. “I shall never forget it, Becky, never so long as I live. The house didn’t like it.”
    â€œThe house?”
    â€œNo,” said Alice, shaking her head. “It was wrong anywhere, but worse here. Dunnian didn’t like it.”
    Becky looked at her in some alarm. “You shouldn’t have gone down,” she declared. “You shouldn’t have been there—”
    â€œI know, but I wanted to be there, in case—but I wasn’t any use at all. Mrs. Lacey was far more use than I was.”
    â€œShe’s a warrior,” said Becky, smiling. “She’s a wee bit like Miss Dunne—knows her mind and isn’t afraid to speak it.”
    There was silence and then Alice said, “What are they doing now?”
    â€œThey’re having tea on the terrace—the three of them—you can hear them talking if you listen.”
    Alice listened. She heard the sound of voices and the chink of teacups…and suddenly she heard Humphrey’s laugh. It was a deep-throated laugh, wholehearted and infectious, and the sound of it comforted Alice considerably. If Humphrey could laugh like that…
    â€œYou see—they’re laughing,” said Becky as she took away the tray.
    â€¢ • •
    Alice felt so much better that she was able to come down to dinner, and what a different meal it was from last night! They were all cheerful, almost gay; it was as if a cloud had vanished from the sky. Even Mr. Wanlock came out of his shell and became quite human and jovial. He told funny stories—quite proper ones, of course—and made them all laugh heartily. During the fish course when Humphrey and his cousin were talking of something else, Mr. Wanlock leaned forward and said to Alice, “Are you thinking of sending the children to Margate, Mrs. Dunne?” and Alice saw the joke at once and replied, “Some doctors believe in hill air, Mr. Wanlock.”
    â€œWhat’s the joke?” Humphrey inquired when he saw them laughing, but Mr.