Melanie ’ s tailored suit—like a whispered hint of spring on that murky afternoon—and her head like a shining, polished chestnut, attracting so much of the fireglow, the merest suspicion of a thoughtful frown appeared between his brows.
“I’ ll ring for Mrs. Abbie to bring you some tea, ” he said, when the conversation, unassisted by Noel, appeared to be in danger of dying away altogether. “ She ’ s my housekeeper, and an absolute gem amongst housekeepers, and for that reason I ’ ve decided that she ’ d better go with you two to the Wold House and look after you. ”
“ Oh, of course. ” But somehow Melanie could not see him there, in that lonely house on the edge of the moor, cut off from all the things he himself had admitted he found so important to his physical well-being, especially in the winter time. “ Naturally, it will be your home. ”
“ But first we will find out just how much of a home it can be turned into! It takes rather more than a carte-blanche order to a firm of house-fu rn ishers and decorators and so forth to create an atmosphere in which it is possible to live even amongst period bricks and panelling. ”
Melanie nodded her head.
“ I agree, ” she said, and added, without pausing to measure her words: “ Home is where the heart is! ”
“ Exactly! ” he replied, smiling at her curiously, a tiny twinkle invading his eyes. “ And the heart does not always behave as one would expect, attaching itself to the oddest corners, places and people. But the essence of what you say is correct. ‘ Such is the patriot ’ s boast, where ’ er we roam, His first, best country ever is at home !’ ”
Melanie felt a faint color begin to rise up in her cheeks as he continued to study her as if he was amused, and she was glad when the door opened to admit Mrs. Abbie with the tea-tray. Mrs. Abbie was buxom and smiling in a black dress, with a most housekeeperly-looking bunch of keys dangling at her waist, and she looked at the two girls with friendly eyes. She had evidently attempted to do their visit justice, for amongst the edibles on the tray there was a large fruit cake, as well as scones, sandwiches, and chocolate biscuits.
“ There! ” she exclaimed, as she set down the tray on a little table beside Melanie ’ s elbow. “ I expect the young lady will like to pour out. ”
“ So long as you don ’ t expect me to, Abbie, ” Richard Trenchard exclaimed, with a faint shudder, and an amused glance at her as she passed his chair. “ I haven ’ t yet sunk to the level of afternoon tea—not willingly, ” he added, meeting the sudden, quick smile in Melanie ’ s eyes as she recalled the afternoon of her arrival in London, and Great-Aunt Amelia ’ s neat method of pinning him to the side of her chair.
“ My great-aunt is a woman of enormous strength of character, ” he observed, an unwilling smile appearing in his own eyes, “ as no doubt you have discovered for yourself, Miss Brooks? ”
“ I think she ’ s a very wonderful old lady, ” Melanie told him truthfully.
“ Do you? ” He looked at her keenly. “ And she hasn ’ t succeeded in, intimidating you yet? ”
“ No. ” She appeared surprised. “ I don ’ t think she has even tried to do so. ”
“ Perhaps not, ” he agreed, watching her neat method of handling fragile porcelain cups, as well as a squat silver teapot of William and Mary pattern. “ As a matter of fact I think she approves of you. ”
“ Does she? ” Her brown eyes were lifted quickly to his face, and he detected a shy, pleased look in them. “ In that case I ’ m glad, for she ’ s so extraordinarily well preserved—in every way!—that one can ’ t help but admire her enormously. I don ’ t imagine I shall be so well-preserved when—if ever!—I reach her age. ”
“ You ’ ve a very long way to go yet, ” he told her, switching on the reading-lamp beside his chair so that she could see now that his eyes were grey
“I’ ll ring for Mrs. Abbie to bring you some tea, ” he said, when the conversation, unassisted by Noel, appeared to be in danger of dying away altogether. “ She ’ s my housekeeper, and an absolute gem amongst housekeepers, and for that reason I ’ ve decided that she ’ d better go with you two to the Wold House and look after you. ”
“ Oh, of course. ” But somehow Melanie could not see him there, in that lonely house on the edge of the moor, cut off from all the things he himself had admitted he found so important to his physical well-being, especially in the winter time. “ Naturally, it will be your home. ”
“ But first we will find out just how much of a home it can be turned into! It takes rather more than a carte-blanche order to a firm of house-fu rn ishers and decorators and so forth to create an atmosphere in which it is possible to live even amongst period bricks and panelling. ”
Melanie nodded her head.
“ I agree, ” she said, and added, without pausing to measure her words: “ Home is where the heart is! ”
“ Exactly! ” he replied, smiling at her curiously, a tiny twinkle invading his eyes. “ And the heart does not always behave as one would expect, attaching itself to the oddest corners, places and people. But the essence of what you say is correct. ‘ Such is the patriot ’ s boast, where ’ er we roam, His first, best country ever is at home !’ ”
Melanie felt a faint color begin to rise up in her cheeks as he continued to study her as if he was amused, and she was glad when the door opened to admit Mrs. Abbie with the tea-tray. Mrs. Abbie was buxom and smiling in a black dress, with a most housekeeperly-looking bunch of keys dangling at her waist, and she looked at the two girls with friendly eyes. She had evidently attempted to do their visit justice, for amongst the edibles on the tray there was a large fruit cake, as well as scones, sandwiches, and chocolate biscuits.
“ There! ” she exclaimed, as she set down the tray on a little table beside Melanie ’ s elbow. “ I expect the young lady will like to pour out. ”
“ So long as you don ’ t expect me to, Abbie, ” Richard Trenchard exclaimed, with a faint shudder, and an amused glance at her as she passed his chair. “ I haven ’ t yet sunk to the level of afternoon tea—not willingly, ” he added, meeting the sudden, quick smile in Melanie ’ s eyes as she recalled the afternoon of her arrival in London, and Great-Aunt Amelia ’ s neat method of pinning him to the side of her chair.
“ My great-aunt is a woman of enormous strength of character, ” he observed, an unwilling smile appearing in his own eyes, “ as no doubt you have discovered for yourself, Miss Brooks? ”
“ I think she ’ s a very wonderful old lady, ” Melanie told him truthfully.
“ Do you? ” He looked at her keenly. “ And she hasn ’ t succeeded in, intimidating you yet? ”
“ No. ” She appeared surprised. “ I don ’ t think she has even tried to do so. ”
“ Perhaps not, ” he agreed, watching her neat method of handling fragile porcelain cups, as well as a squat silver teapot of William and Mary pattern. “ As a matter of fact I think she approves of you. ”
“ Does she? ” Her brown eyes were lifted quickly to his face, and he detected a shy, pleased look in them. “ In that case I ’ m glad, for she ’ s so extraordinarily well preserved—in every way!—that one can ’ t help but admire her enormously. I don ’ t imagine I shall be so well-preserved when—if ever!—I reach her age. ”
“ You ’ ve a very long way to go yet, ” he told her, switching on the reading-lamp beside his chair so that she could see now that his eyes were grey
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