little girl lost, are you? Well, I'll give you one week to come to your senses. I thought I knew you, but it appears I've a lot to learn about you, as you have to learn about me. I don't play games, and the sooner you realise that the better.' He strolled to the door. 'It's up to you now.'
The door slammed behind him, leaving Teresa staring at the closed door. Her head ached with sharp intensity, and she held on to her desk for the support she so badly needed.
As time passed the headache receded, and she was able to sit down and make an attempt to come to terms with Carl Elton's extraordinary statements.
The thing that most worried her was the fact that he had been so sure of himself, and of her blind acceptance of his outrageous suggestion. For goodness' sake, what sort of a girl had she been? Even the most tenacious pursuer wouldn't have dared voice such an arrangement without encouragement, and she must have given him that encouragement—no wonder her uncle had been worried about the situation
She frowned. What had he said about her uncle? She shook her head; the words ran into one another, but it was something on the lines that he didn't want anything to do with him. She bit her lower lip;
had she been told not to tell him of their association?
Her frown deepened. But her uncle knew of it; Mr Oates had proved that by asking her to keep out of Carl Elton's way!
She pushed back a lock of hair from her forehead with a weary gesture. It was no use, whatever had happened now remained locked behind an impenetrable screen—but not for long, she told herself fiercely. It appeared her uncle Patrick had left a few gaps in his narration—gaps she was determined to have filled in, even if it meant confirmation of her earlier suspicions of the kind of girl she had been.
He had told her she was shocked after losing her family—had it so affected her that it had made her lose all sense of propriety? Was that why he had suddenly changed the conversation when he was trying to explain the reason why she had lost her memory? She had had the feeling then that he was holding something back, and now she knew what it was.
Bleakly she acknowledged the reason why he hadn't mentioned her association with Carl Elton. It was hardly a matter to bring up at such a time. No wonder he had put Mr Oates in the picture and asked for his co-operation in shielding her from any future contact in that direction!
The rest of the day passed too slowly for Teresa's liking. She was impatient to finish work and get back to the chalet and get the truth out of her uncle. Somehow she managed to contain herself until the evening meal had been eaten and cleared away, and
waited until her uncle had rolled his after-dinner cigarette and sat contentedly puffing at it, then threw the question at him.
'What happened between Carl Elton and myself?' she asked bluntly, noticing the start he gave at the name.
`Now who's been talking?' he demanded, assuming an indignant pose which told Teresa he was playing for time.
'No one,' she answered calmly. 'He came to see me today.' She met her uncle's wary eyes and held them. 'He asked me to go up north with him,' she added bluntly.
`Whist, girl! ' he began, 'the devil of a cheek, has he. 'Tis better forgotten, I tell you. Too proud to marry you now I Sure, didn't I tell you how it was before?'
'No,' said Teresa firmly, 'you didn't, and I want to know now—all of it, do you hear? And don't bother to spare my feelings. I rather gathered he was of the opinion that I would agree to his suggestion.' Her soft lips twisted as she added, `I'd rather know, Uncle, no matter what happened, do you understand?' she added softly.
He gave a loud sigh and studied the end of his cigarette. 'Sure, girl, I'll tell you. Thought I was doing right in leaving things as they were. You'd had enough to put up with as it was, losing your folks like that.'
Gradually the story came out, and an amazed Teresa was told of the engagement
The door slammed behind him, leaving Teresa staring at the closed door. Her head ached with sharp intensity, and she held on to her desk for the support she so badly needed.
As time passed the headache receded, and she was able to sit down and make an attempt to come to terms with Carl Elton's extraordinary statements.
The thing that most worried her was the fact that he had been so sure of himself, and of her blind acceptance of his outrageous suggestion. For goodness' sake, what sort of a girl had she been? Even the most tenacious pursuer wouldn't have dared voice such an arrangement without encouragement, and she must have given him that encouragement—no wonder her uncle had been worried about the situation
She frowned. What had he said about her uncle? She shook her head; the words ran into one another, but it was something on the lines that he didn't want anything to do with him. She bit her lower lip;
had she been told not to tell him of their association?
Her frown deepened. But her uncle knew of it; Mr Oates had proved that by asking her to keep out of Carl Elton's way!
She pushed back a lock of hair from her forehead with a weary gesture. It was no use, whatever had happened now remained locked behind an impenetrable screen—but not for long, she told herself fiercely. It appeared her uncle Patrick had left a few gaps in his narration—gaps she was determined to have filled in, even if it meant confirmation of her earlier suspicions of the kind of girl she had been.
He had told her she was shocked after losing her family—had it so affected her that it had made her lose all sense of propriety? Was that why he had suddenly changed the conversation when he was trying to explain the reason why she had lost her memory? She had had the feeling then that he was holding something back, and now she knew what it was.
Bleakly she acknowledged the reason why he hadn't mentioned her association with Carl Elton. It was hardly a matter to bring up at such a time. No wonder he had put Mr Oates in the picture and asked for his co-operation in shielding her from any future contact in that direction!
The rest of the day passed too slowly for Teresa's liking. She was impatient to finish work and get back to the chalet and get the truth out of her uncle. Somehow she managed to contain herself until the evening meal had been eaten and cleared away, and
waited until her uncle had rolled his after-dinner cigarette and sat contentedly puffing at it, then threw the question at him.
'What happened between Carl Elton and myself?' she asked bluntly, noticing the start he gave at the name.
`Now who's been talking?' he demanded, assuming an indignant pose which told Teresa he was playing for time.
'No one,' she answered calmly. 'He came to see me today.' She met her uncle's wary eyes and held them. 'He asked me to go up north with him,' she added bluntly.
`Whist, girl! ' he began, 'the devil of a cheek, has he. 'Tis better forgotten, I tell you. Too proud to marry you now I Sure, didn't I tell you how it was before?'
'No,' said Teresa firmly, 'you didn't, and I want to know now—all of it, do you hear? And don't bother to spare my feelings. I rather gathered he was of the opinion that I would agree to his suggestion.' Her soft lips twisted as she added, `I'd rather know, Uncle, no matter what happened, do you understand?' she added softly.
He gave a loud sigh and studied the end of his cigarette. 'Sure, girl, I'll tell you. Thought I was doing right in leaving things as they were. You'd had enough to put up with as it was, losing your folks like that.'
Gradually the story came out, and an amazed Teresa was told of the engagement
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