saw, with relief, that Rachel was coming out of the house.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” began Rachel. Then she saw her uncle.
“You have kept Frederica waiting,” said her uncle with gentle reproach.
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“Come on then,” I said, eager to get away.
“Be good girls,” said Mr. Dorian.
“The Lord bless you both.”
As we went I saw him looking after us. I could not think why but he made me shiver.
Rachel did not say anything, but she was often quiet. Yet somehow I believed she knew how I was feeling.
The memory of Mr. Dorian lingered for a while. It was faintly unpleasant so I tried to forget it; but when I next called for Rachel I did not go into the garden but waited outside.
Miss Lloyd and I got on very well together and it was gratifying to be aware that I was her favourite pupil. She said I was responsive. We shared a love of poetry and often we analysed it together while Rachel looked bewildered and Tamarisk bored, as though what we discussed was beneath her notice.
Miss Lloyd said it would be pleasant if Rachel and I were asked to have tea with Tamarisk.
“Don’t you agree. Tamarisk?” she asked.
“I don’t mind,” said Tamarisk ungraciously.
“Very well. We’ll have a little tea-party.”
Aunt Sophie was amused when I told her.
“You ought to see something more of the house than that old schoolroom,” she commented.
“It’s worth a bit of attention. I’m glad you and Miss Lloyd are friends. Sensible woman. She realizes how much cleverer you are than the others.”
“Perhaps I’m not so handsome but I learn more quickly.”
“Nonsense. I mean nonsense to the first and true to the second. Hold your head high, my dear. Think well of yourself and others will too.”
So I went to the tea-party. There were dainty sandwiches and delicious cherry cake; and Miss Lloyd said that, as the hostess, Tamarisk should entertain us.
Tamarisk made a familiar gesture of indifference and behaved just as usual.
Miss Lloyd had apparently asked Mrs. St. Aubyn, who, it transpired.
Tamarisk visited at four-thirty on those days when her mother was well enough to see her, if she would like to meet the girls who shared her daughter’s lessons. To Miss Lloyd’s surprise, she had agreed to do this, providing that, when the time came, she felt well enough and they did not stay too long.
Thus it was that 1 met the lady of the house the mother of Tamarisk and Crispin.
Miss Lloyd ushered us in and we hovered.
Mrs. St. Aubyn was clad in a negligee of mauve chiffon with lace and ribbons decorating it. She was lying on a sofa with a table beside it on which was a box of fondants. She was rather plump but seemed very beautiful with her golden hair the same colour as Tamarisk’s piled high
on her head. There was a diamond pendant about her throat and the same gems glittered on her fingers.
She looked languidly at us and her eyes alighted on me.
“This is Frederica, Mrs. St. Aubyn,” said Miss Lloyd.
“Miss Cardingham’s niece.”
She signed for me to come closer.
“Your mother is an invalid, I heard,” she said.
“Yes.”
She nodded: “I understand … I understand full well. She is in a nursing home, I believe.”
I said she was.
She sighed.
“That is sad, poor child. You must tell me about it.”
I was about to speak when she added: “One day … when I feel stronger.”
Miss Lloyd laid her hand on my shoulder and drew me away, and 1 realized that Mrs. St. Aubyn’s interest had been in my mother’s illness rather than in me.
I wanted then to get out of the room and so it seemed did Miss Lloyd, for she said: “You must not tire yourself, Mrs. St. Aubyn.”
And Mrs. St. Aubyn nodded with an air of resignation.
“This is Rachel,” said Miss Lloyd, ‘and she and Frederica are very good friends. “
“How nice.”
“They are good girls. Tamarisk, say goodbye to your mother … and you, girls.”
We all did so with some relief.
I thought what a
“I’m sorry I’m late,” began Rachel. Then she saw her uncle.
“You have kept Frederica waiting,” said her uncle with gentle reproach.
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“Come on then,” I said, eager to get away.
“Be good girls,” said Mr. Dorian.
“The Lord bless you both.”
As we went I saw him looking after us. I could not think why but he made me shiver.
Rachel did not say anything, but she was often quiet. Yet somehow I believed she knew how I was feeling.
The memory of Mr. Dorian lingered for a while. It was faintly unpleasant so I tried to forget it; but when I next called for Rachel I did not go into the garden but waited outside.
Miss Lloyd and I got on very well together and it was gratifying to be aware that I was her favourite pupil. She said I was responsive. We shared a love of poetry and often we analysed it together while Rachel looked bewildered and Tamarisk bored, as though what we discussed was beneath her notice.
Miss Lloyd said it would be pleasant if Rachel and I were asked to have tea with Tamarisk.
“Don’t you agree. Tamarisk?” she asked.
“I don’t mind,” said Tamarisk ungraciously.
“Very well. We’ll have a little tea-party.”
Aunt Sophie was amused when I told her.
“You ought to see something more of the house than that old schoolroom,” she commented.
“It’s worth a bit of attention. I’m glad you and Miss Lloyd are friends. Sensible woman. She realizes how much cleverer you are than the others.”
“Perhaps I’m not so handsome but I learn more quickly.”
“Nonsense. I mean nonsense to the first and true to the second. Hold your head high, my dear. Think well of yourself and others will too.”
So I went to the tea-party. There were dainty sandwiches and delicious cherry cake; and Miss Lloyd said that, as the hostess, Tamarisk should entertain us.
Tamarisk made a familiar gesture of indifference and behaved just as usual.
Miss Lloyd had apparently asked Mrs. St. Aubyn, who, it transpired.
Tamarisk visited at four-thirty on those days when her mother was well enough to see her, if she would like to meet the girls who shared her daughter’s lessons. To Miss Lloyd’s surprise, she had agreed to do this, providing that, when the time came, she felt well enough and they did not stay too long.
Thus it was that 1 met the lady of the house the mother of Tamarisk and Crispin.
Miss Lloyd ushered us in and we hovered.
Mrs. St. Aubyn was clad in a negligee of mauve chiffon with lace and ribbons decorating it. She was lying on a sofa with a table beside it on which was a box of fondants. She was rather plump but seemed very beautiful with her golden hair the same colour as Tamarisk’s piled high
on her head. There was a diamond pendant about her throat and the same gems glittered on her fingers.
She looked languidly at us and her eyes alighted on me.
“This is Frederica, Mrs. St. Aubyn,” said Miss Lloyd.
“Miss Cardingham’s niece.”
She signed for me to come closer.
“Your mother is an invalid, I heard,” she said.
“Yes.”
She nodded: “I understand … I understand full well. She is in a nursing home, I believe.”
I said she was.
She sighed.
“That is sad, poor child. You must tell me about it.”
I was about to speak when she added: “One day … when I feel stronger.”
Miss Lloyd laid her hand on my shoulder and drew me away, and 1 realized that Mrs. St. Aubyn’s interest had been in my mother’s illness rather than in me.
I wanted then to get out of the room and so it seemed did Miss Lloyd, for she said: “You must not tire yourself, Mrs. St. Aubyn.”
And Mrs. St. Aubyn nodded with an air of resignation.
“This is Rachel,” said Miss Lloyd, ‘and she and Frederica are very good friends. “
“How nice.”
“They are good girls. Tamarisk, say goodbye to your mother … and you, girls.”
We all did so with some relief.
I thought what a
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