”
For the rest of that evening Lou felt ragged. Indeed, several days passed before she slipped back into her usual cheerful mood, and even then her op timism was far more cautious than it had ever been before.
There were slight changes in the routine. Previously, Ross had looked in alone at odd times of the day, but now he was invariably accompanied by Paula Craddock—whether by accident or design Lou could not tell. Certainly Paula talked as if it were natural that she and Ross should often be together, but Lou could not reconcile the fact with what she knew of him. Ross liked to concentrate during working hours, and while he was his own manager he had plenty to do. Yet it did seem that he wanted Paula to be present when he saw Keith; one day he even carried the child away for a drive with the two of them. Lou had a rather tense time of it while they were gone, but Keith returned breezily to the haven, and nothing was changed.
Lou heard details of the party to be held at Ross Gilmore ’ s house. It was to be a lavish affair in garden and living-room, with Paula as hostess. As Ross had negligently mentioned, it would be a good opportunity for Lou to meet everyone. Lou felt, sinkingly, that she would rather stay unknown.
Then suddenly, on the day before the party, there was rain—torrents of it. And the day became memorable to Lou for two reasons.
The first concerned Keith. Rain kept him indoors and from sheer boredom he pencilled a dozen shaky lines on the wal l. Lou made him help her to erase them and then gave him a sheet of her own notepaper. He scrawled indecipherably till, with studied carelessness, she showed him how she taught children to form the alphabet. Before he knew it, Keith was laboriously making letters in an exercise book, and after lunch he copied a ship from one of his old picture books. And to complete the capitulation he allowed Lou to read to him in bed from one of his own selections of fairy tales!
Lou was so thankful that after she had left him she stared out into the sodden darkness with s hining eyes. Her own idea had worked. Occasionally during the past few days she had told him about the children she taught and encouraged him to laugh at their exploits. There had been the “ little boy who looks very like you, Keith, ” and twin girls who invariably brought date sandwiches for lunch. Keith had been faintly roused, and Lou had calculated that at this rate it would take at least three weeks to get him interested in lessons. But the rain—one of those unexpected days of storm that happened in Nyasaland dry season— had swe p t away the whole softening-up process. When the sun shone Keith might not be so keen to learn, but the first step had been accomplished. Lou felt that from now on she could be firmer with him.
It was still teeming with rain when she had supper, and because it was so much cooler she went to bed and lay there reading with the rain-laden air sweeping between the curtains into the room. She heard a car swish round the drive, and the usual sounds of door handles being tried. For a moment, she rather longed to open one of the doors and invite him in for a drink; but it passed, the car waded away again and there was nothing but the rain pelting on leaves and gurgling from the overflow pipe of one of the tanks. Ross must have seen her light but he hadn ’ t even bothered to call goodnight
After that, reading was difficult. Lou got up and made some coffee, carried it into the living-room and filled a cup. She was sipping and staring rather disconsolately at nothing when a rapping sound drew her to the door.
A visitor—in such weather? Or perhaps an African with a message. But a message from whom? The sound came again, more sharply, and rather breathlessly she switched on the outside light, slid the bolt and turned the key. She opened the door and gazed blankly at the man who stood there in the porch, covered by the thatch from the rain but dripping from every point of
For the rest of that evening Lou felt ragged. Indeed, several days passed before she slipped back into her usual cheerful mood, and even then her op timism was far more cautious than it had ever been before.
There were slight changes in the routine. Previously, Ross had looked in alone at odd times of the day, but now he was invariably accompanied by Paula Craddock—whether by accident or design Lou could not tell. Certainly Paula talked as if it were natural that she and Ross should often be together, but Lou could not reconcile the fact with what she knew of him. Ross liked to concentrate during working hours, and while he was his own manager he had plenty to do. Yet it did seem that he wanted Paula to be present when he saw Keith; one day he even carried the child away for a drive with the two of them. Lou had a rather tense time of it while they were gone, but Keith returned breezily to the haven, and nothing was changed.
Lou heard details of the party to be held at Ross Gilmore ’ s house. It was to be a lavish affair in garden and living-room, with Paula as hostess. As Ross had negligently mentioned, it would be a good opportunity for Lou to meet everyone. Lou felt, sinkingly, that she would rather stay unknown.
Then suddenly, on the day before the party, there was rain—torrents of it. And the day became memorable to Lou for two reasons.
The first concerned Keith. Rain kept him indoors and from sheer boredom he pencilled a dozen shaky lines on the wal l. Lou made him help her to erase them and then gave him a sheet of her own notepaper. He scrawled indecipherably till, with studied carelessness, she showed him how she taught children to form the alphabet. Before he knew it, Keith was laboriously making letters in an exercise book, and after lunch he copied a ship from one of his old picture books. And to complete the capitulation he allowed Lou to read to him in bed from one of his own selections of fairy tales!
Lou was so thankful that after she had left him she stared out into the sodden darkness with s hining eyes. Her own idea had worked. Occasionally during the past few days she had told him about the children she taught and encouraged him to laugh at their exploits. There had been the “ little boy who looks very like you, Keith, ” and twin girls who invariably brought date sandwiches for lunch. Keith had been faintly roused, and Lou had calculated that at this rate it would take at least three weeks to get him interested in lessons. But the rain—one of those unexpected days of storm that happened in Nyasaland dry season— had swe p t away the whole softening-up process. When the sun shone Keith might not be so keen to learn, but the first step had been accomplished. Lou felt that from now on she could be firmer with him.
It was still teeming with rain when she had supper, and because it was so much cooler she went to bed and lay there reading with the rain-laden air sweeping between the curtains into the room. She heard a car swish round the drive, and the usual sounds of door handles being tried. For a moment, she rather longed to open one of the doors and invite him in for a drink; but it passed, the car waded away again and there was nothing but the rain pelting on leaves and gurgling from the overflow pipe of one of the tanks. Ross must have seen her light but he hadn ’ t even bothered to call goodnight
After that, reading was difficult. Lou got up and made some coffee, carried it into the living-room and filled a cup. She was sipping and staring rather disconsolately at nothing when a rapping sound drew her to the door.
A visitor—in such weather? Or perhaps an African with a message. But a message from whom? The sound came again, more sharply, and rather breathlessly she switched on the outside light, slid the bolt and turned the key. She opened the door and gazed blankly at the man who stood there in the porch, covered by the thatch from the rain but dripping from every point of
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