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Authors: Eleanor Farnes

Tags: #Harllequin Romance 1965

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Indeed?

said Arnold.


I

m not sure, mind you, but I think so,

said Sylvia. Ingrid said nothing. She could not help thinking that it sounded rather the wrong way round, for Pamela to be buying expensive presents for Patrick

bribing him, as it were, with diamonds. She much preferred the kind of relationship that was blossoming between herself and Laurence. He could not afford diamonds, perhaps. His offering might be only violets, which would fill her room with fragrance for a day or two, and then have to be thrown away, but they satisfied her. She would have been surprised to know that Patrick had t
a
ken the cuff links in payment of a debt, and even more surprised to know that Sylvia could lie so unnecessarily and so easily.

 

CHAPTER
FIVE

IT was Sunday afternoon, and, therefore, probably the busiest time of Ingrid

s week. When she had first come to take over the household duties for Sylvia, Sunday had been a comparatively restful day, but as soon as Sylvia had realized that Ingrid was coping with her job with efficiency she began to restore customs that had prevailed before her illness. It had been
Sylvia

s habit to have friends for Sunday luncheon, and this was restored first. Only a few friends, usually two or four, but they always had to be such special little luncheons that they entailed a good deal of work for Ingrid. She enjoyed it, however, since she was always interested in people, and liked meeting them; and by planning her work and the meals in advance, she managed everything smoothly. It was Arnold

s suggestion that, since the Sunday luncheons had started again, it might be possible to start the tea parties for the boys, and as Ingrid thought he had just as much right to entertain in his House as Sylvia, she promptly agreed. Every other Sunday, a few boys came to tea. Their behavior was always exemplary, their politeness astonishing. They wore their best black jackets, their stiffest collars, and they subdued unruly hair and scrubbed their hands. Ingrid could not resist smiling at them with loving amusement, knowing that s
ome form of outburst would prob
ably atone later for so much restrained good behavior. There was usually the one who could not resist showing off, who would talk about his home and parents, and try to impress. There
were usually one or two who were interested only in the
good food provided, and could hardly make conversation for the distraction of Ingrid

s dainties. Ingrid knew that some of them came from wealthy families. They spent their holidays abroad, they lived in big country houses, and they had too much pocket money. Others came from families who had to pinch and scrape to keep them at such an expensive school. They had little pocket money, they had
to look after their clothes and
other possessions, and certainly there was never money left over to send them abroad. Yet here, all wearing the same clothes, all receiving precisely the same treatment, everybody was
level
.

Miss Everton sometimes came to help Ingrid with the tea. On this particular afternoon Laurence was also present, and the boys were deep in a discussion on sport with him. Sylvia was bored, but the boys

tea parties always bored her, and she only showed interest in those whose parents were wealthy or people of some importance. She amused herself by thinking of her luncheon
part
y, going over it all again in her mind, weighing up her guests. She would discard without compunction anybody who did not amuse her, or could not be useful to her; and this process of weeding out went on continuously.

Ingrid, and Miss Everton sipped tea together, presiding over the dining table, sure that everybody was served, glad of a moment to relax.


Whew,

said Ingrid,

this has been a day
!
Seven for lunch, and thirteen for tea.


It

s too much for you,

protested Miss Everton.


Not really. Not if it is well planned beforehand. I have an enormous bake on Saturday morning, and I get up early on Sunday morning
and prepare as much as possible before the others are stirring.


I can help you. I

d be glad
to
.


Good gracious, I
should think you have quit
e
enough to do already. No, I can manage, and the boys

teas are only every other Sunday. And I rather enjoy them.


Yes, I do sometimes, but why I

m specially glad that they have been started again, is because I know Mr. Southbrook missed them. They were the first things to go, of course, but I know he was sorry. He takes
his
work very seriously, you know, and he likes so see w
hi
ch way the boys are going.


You admire hi
m
, don

t you?


Enormously. Don

t tell me I make it obvious
.”


No, but I admire
him
too, and I could feel that you did.


I
think he is one of the nicest people in the whole school. I used to burn because I thought he wasn

t sufficiently appreciated, but now I realize
that he really is a s
atisfied person. He is doing
the work he loves
doing, and that is enough for
him—in spite of p
etty disturbances.

“Disturbances?” qu
eried Ingrid.

Miss Everton looked confused, but recovered herself.


Oh, there are always a thousand little worrying, niggling t
h
ings to distract one in a big school,

she said. Yet Ingrid felt that she had been, referring to Sylvia, and not to affairs of the school.

One o
f
the boys brought empty cups to be refilled, Ingrid sent him round with scones and cakes while she poured tea. Laurence came to see if he could be of service, bringing Sylvia

s cup, Sylvia was at the far end of the room, her couch
drawn
near the window, contriving to look a little neglected. Even at a
te
a party for boys, she did not like to be overlooked for a moment.


You must be longing for a rest,

Laurence said to Ingrid.


What
I’
m chiefly longing for is some fresh air,

she replied.

It has been such a lovely day, and I haven

t had a chance to be out in it.


Come for a walk when the boys have cleared off to the service.


Attractive but impossible. There

s all this washing-up.


Oh, I

ll help you with that,

said Laurence, at the game time that Miss Everton offered. So the washing-up was disposed of as soon as the boys had disappeared for their service in the Cathedral, and then Arnold followed them, persuading Miss Everton to go with him.


You don

t mind, Sylvia, if I go out for a walk?

asked Ingrid.

I

ve made up the fire for you, and your books are here on the table. Is there
anything
else you want?


Are there cigarettes there? And could I have my pen and writing paper? And don

t stay out too long, or we shall have supper so late.


I won

t be long,

Ingrid promised, and put on her hat and coat and went out with Laurence.

If Miss Everton had noticed that Ingrid was kept very busy, she was not the only one. Laurence had noticed it, but was too tactful to speak of it, while Arnold not only noticed it but was also worried about it. He had been uneasy from the first at keeping her away from her work

work that she was most enthusiastic about and anxious to be occupied with

but now it seemed to him that Sylvia wa
s
going a little too far. He decided to mention it to her, and found a suitable
opportunity
a day or two later when Ingrid was shopping in town.


Sylvia,

he said

it occurs to me that we are rather ove
rworking
Ingrid.

She looked up in real surprise.


Overworking Ingrid? How?


She never seem
s
to have any time for herself and I feel that she has been so good in coming here and making everything run so smoothly and pleasantly, that w
e
ought to consider her a little more.


My dear Arnold, if she never has time for herself, if must be that she manages badly, for after all, there are only the two of us here

three with herself. You don

t mean to imply that that is too much work for a woman?


Usually, there are more people here. The house seems always to be full of visitors.


Well, they co
m
e for her as often as not. We never used to see so much of Laurence Pinder

or Nora Everton, if it comes to that. It won

t disturb me if they
stop coming.


Oh Sylvia, that is hardly the case. Look at last Sunday
.
There were seven of us for lunch, and you must admit that Ingrid made a wonderful job
of it. And
then eight boys and five adults
for
tea in the afternoon. And a great deal of cooking to do beforehand.


Has she been
c
omplaining to you?


Certainly n
o
t. She wouldn

t dream of it.


Then why you should worry, I don

t know. She probably doesn

t. And in any case, if
i
t is too much for her, it would be a simple thing to discontinue the teas for the boys.


I shouldn

t like to do that.


No. You

d like me to give up my lunch-parties, but you don

t want to give up your tea-parties. And I

d like to point out that if it is too much for Ingrid now, it must have been too much for me, when I used to do it. You don

t think of that, do you? A wife is expected to work her fingers to the bone.


You always had help, Sylvia
.”


Well, get help for Ingrid
.”


You know how difficult that
i
s. You had Marjorie, who was a treasure and took a great deal of work off your hands. Now she is married, and there is only the daily help

and you have often said how hopeless she is
.”


Oh, of course,

said Sylvia bitterly,

everything was easy when I had to do it, and everything is so difficult for Ingrid.


I

m sorry you are taking it like this, Sylvia. I

m not concerned with whether it is easier or harder than it used to be. I know you always worked very hard, and I know you need careful looking after. But Ingrid

s job is something quite different
.
She has given it up temporarily, to come down and help us, and I want to make life pleasant for her. All I want is to arrange more free time for her.


You speak as if she has been so sweet and unselfish, and I am some martinet holding a whip over her. This job of hers

she isn

t a
s
keen on it as all that
.
It

s just something to do until, she finds somebody to marry
.
And as far as I am concerned, she can have free time whenever she likes. As it is, she pleases herself most of the time. Look at this afternoon. She is supposed to be shopping but she has very little to get and has been gone ages. I don

t think you need to worry about Ingrid

she can look after herself.

Arnold was silent. He knew that Ingrid did a good deal of work about his part of the House, to supplement the slipshod daily woman; he knew that it took some time to get Sylvia ready in the morning and installed on her couch; and that her many friends had started dropping in for morning coffee with her or afternoon tea and that it was Ingrid who waited on them, Ingrid cooked the lunch and prepared the supper, too. Ingrid went frequently to the library, and the needlework shop for embroider
y
silks for Sylvia. She made her telephone calls, posted her letters, ran around the various school buildings with notes and messages; and he knew that,
so
long as she continued willing, Sylvia would add to these tasks. He was about to go, dropping the whole subject, when Sylvia suddenly said
:


My dear Arnold, there is no need to look so persecuted. Am I such a taskmaster? If Ingrid wants to go out, I am not stopping her. If she wants to go away for a week-end with her friends, I am sure we can manage. You made me cross by implying that I was selfish and inconsiderate
...”


O
h, no,

said Arnold quickly.


But we will tell her she is
free to do just as she likes.


That is very sweet of you, Sylvia. You tell her
.

Sylvia sat in thought, when he had gone. She had remembered how very convenient it was to have Ingrid here. It would be disastrous if she went away again. It had
been
so dull before her arrival, since, without regular help, the house had been disorganized, nothing had gone smoothly, and her friends were afraid of adding complications by coming to see her. She enjoyed people dropping in for coffee or tea with her, bringing her
fl
owers and magazines, sympathizing with her. She liked being idle

or, at m
o
st, reading, writing letters and embroidering.

Pamela dropped in that very afternoon, and brought home to Sylvia that it was pleasant to know that the house was tidy and well polished, the flowers fresh, and that Ingrid would be back without fail to bring in an appetizing tea for Sylvia and her friend. She smiled delightedly at Pamela, submitted her embroidery for admiration, and settled down for a chat.


I called in,

said Pamela,

because I

m going to spend a few days with the Bettsworths, and thought I would like to see you before I go.


You

ll be quit
e
near Patrick at the Be
t
tsworths.


Yes, I know. I

ve been trying to make up my mind whether I will ring him up or not.


Why not?


Well, you know, Sylvia, we aren

t really on the easy and friendly terms you always imagine.


That is nonsense. I

m sure you are

that Patrick is, anyway. He would be delighted if you rang him up. Oh, that reminds me. Something much better. You could do me a service by ta
k
ing something to
him
for me.


Are you cooking up an
excuse
for me to see
him
?


Not at all, Pamela. He left some very valuable cuff links here, end rang up to enquire about them, and to say he would like them. Would you take them to him for me?


Will I? I certainly will,


Ah, here

s Ingrid. Now we can have some tea. In it nice out. Ingrid?


A cold wind

otherwise lovely. I won

t be long bringing tea.

She brought it in, and poured out. Sylvia smiled at her.


You look lovely and bright after your walk,

s
he said pleasantly.

Arnold and I hav
e
been a little worried about you.


About me? Whatever for?


We think you are working too hard for us.


Oh, what nonsense,

said Ingrid, laughing.

Weekends are usually hectic, I admit, but I enjoy them all the same.


That is what I told Arnold.

BOOK: Sister of the Housemaster
6.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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