Enchanting Samantha. Бетти Нилс

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СКАЧАТЬ who did for the Humphries-Potters, opened the door. He was followed by his wife, a commanding lady of majestic aspect and possessing one of the kindest hearts in the district. She pecked Mrs Fielding’s cheek in greeting and then did the same for Samantha, commenting as she did so that the dear child looked far too pale. The Squire kissed her too, rather more robustly, and slapped her in avuncular fashion as well, for they had known her since she was a small girl. Carried along on a burst of cheerful conversation, they crossed the hall and arranged themselves in a circle round the fire to drink their sherries and gin and tonics. Samantha was listening to Mrs Humphries-Potter’s plans for the church bazaar, when that lady’s rigidly coiffed head bent to a listening angle. ‘There is the car,’ she pronounced, and even as Samantha framed the question: ‘Whose car?’ Mrs Mabb threw open the door with something of a flourish and Doctor ter Ossel walked in.

      Under Samantha’s startled gaze he greeted his host and hostess, was introduced to Mr and Mrs Fielding, and finally, to herself. The look he gave her was bland as they shook hands, faintly amused and tinged with an innocent surprise which she suspected wasn’t innocent at all.

      ‘We have already met,’ he informed Mrs Humphries-Potter suavely, ‘at Clement’s, you know.’

      His hostess smiled graciously. ‘Of course—dear Sir Joshua.’ She tapped the doctor playfully on his well tailored sleeve. ‘If it hadn’t been for him we should never have made your acquaintance or had the pleasure of your company here.’

      ‘A mutual pleasure, Mrs Humphries-Potter.’ His eyes rested briefly on Samantha, standing between them and wishing she wasn’t. ‘And what a strange coincidence that—er—Samantha should be here too.’

      Samantha felt Mrs Humphries-Potter’s hand on her shoulder. ‘The dear child,’ she said with real affection. ‘We have known her for a good many years, for the Fieldings are neighbours of ours…’ She broke off as the Squire came over with a drink for the newcomer and Samantha, with a wordless murmur, slipped away to join her grandmother. Presently the three gentlemen struck up a conversation, and Samantha, sitting between the two older ladies, listening with half an ear to their gentle criticisms of the latest books, the newest fashions and the terrible price of everything, had ample opportunity of studying Doctor ter Ossel. Apart from the fact that she disliked him, he was rather nice; a handsome man, tall and commanding and very sure of himself, and, she decided in a rather muddled fashion, very likeable, if one happened to like him—which she didn’t, she apostrophized herself sharply, and just as well as it turned out, for she was quite sure that he didn’t like her all that much, either.

      But as the evening wore on she was bound to admit that he was allowing none of his true feelings towards her to show; indeed he was friendly in a cool kind of way, although he made no effort to single her out. He spent a good deal of time talking to Mrs Fielding, whose cosy chuckles and tinkling laugh bore tribute to the pleasure she was having in his company. Her granddaughter, listening to the Squire boring on about winter grazing and the price of animal foodstuffs, wished, quite unfairly, that her grandmother wasn’t enjoying herself quite so much; it was ridiculous of her, old enough to know better, to succumb to the man’s charm so easily.

      ‘You’re frowning, Sam,’ the Squire interrupted himself to say. ‘Perhaps you don’t agree with me about this question of silage.’

      Samantha’s wits were quick enough behind her placid face. ‘The Common Market countries—’ she began, apropos of nothing at all and hoping that it might mean something to her companion.

      It did. ‘Clever girl,’ he praised her, ‘you’re thinking of the price of beef…’ He launched himself happily into a further explanation which only necessitated her saying: ‘You don’t say,’ or ‘Yes, I see,’ or ‘Well, I never,’ at intervals. She had turned her shoulder to her grandmother and the doctor, but she could still hear her grandmother’s delighted chuckles.

      They left soon after ten o’clock, and Samantha, who was driving again, was deeply mortified when she clashed the gears and put the Morris into reverse by mistake, in full view of the Squire and the doctor, who had come out to see them off. It was dark except for the powerful lights from the house; she had no doubt that if she could have seen Doctor ter Ossel clearly he would have been both amused and mocking.

      That her grandparents had enjoyed themselves was evident from their conversation during the short drive home, and over their bedtime cocoa Mrs Fielding remarked: ‘I liked that Doctor what’s-his-name—Giles. Such a nice young man, don’t you think, Sam?’

      Samantha was filling hot water bottles at the sink. ‘I don’t know, Granny,’ her voice was prim. ‘I suppose he’s all right.’

      Her grandmother spooned the sugar from the bottom of her cup and gave her a bright glance which she then turned upon her husband, ending it with a wink. He lowered a wrinkled eyelid himself and rumbled obligingly:

      ‘Yes, yes—a very good sort of chap, I thought. Humphries-Potter tells me that he’s considered very promising as a physician, too—does quite a bit of consulting work, I gather, and comes over here from time to time. Quite young, too.’

      A bait to which Samantha rose. ‘How young?’ she wanted to know.

      ‘Thirty-five,’ declared her grandfather in an offhand manner. ‘He has a practice in Haarlem, I’m told. Got his M. D. Cantab. too, as well as a fistful of Dutch degrees. Clever fellow.’

      Samantha, washing cups and saucers, was thinking up a few careless questions to follow this interesting information, but her grandfather was a little too quick for her. He stood up and walked to the door.

      ‘Well, I shall turn in,’ he observed, and after kissing her, stumped upstairs, leaving her with her curiosity sufficiently aroused to prevent her from falling asleep for quite a long time.

      She was up early, all the same, taking up tea to the old people, attending to Stubbs’ wants, pottering round the little house, tidying up and getting breakfast, so that it was after that meal was finished and the remainder of the chores done that she was up in her room again, doing something to her face. The beds were made, the coffee hot on the side of the stove; there was little left to do. Samantha sat before the old-fashioned dressing table, not seeing her own reflection but Doctor ter Ossel’s strong features. She closed her eyes upon it, brushed her hair into a shining brown curtain and tied it back with a ribbon. She was pulling at its loops when there was a knock on the front door and she poked her head out of the window to see who it was before going downstairs.

      There were two people; Mrs Humphries-Potter and Doctor ter Ossel, and as that lady was already looking up at the window Samantha had opened, it was impossible to withdraw her head and pretend she wasn’t there.

      She called down politely: ‘Good morning, I’m just coming,’ and heard her grandfather going to open the door as she spoke.

      In the kitchen she added two more cups and saucers to the coffee tray and carried it in the sitting room, where Doctor ter Ossel politely took it from her while Mrs Humphries-Potter exclaimed: ‘Giles is so anxious to see the Beach, and I’m such a bad walker, as you know, so I hit on this perfectly splendid idea of Samantha acting as guide in my place. She knows this district so well and can answer any questions Giles might ask.’

      She turned her head, crowned with a mud-coloured Henry Heath hat, and smiled at Samantha, who didn’t smile back. ‘I’ve a great deal to do,’ she started to say. ‘There’s lunch to get ready and I was going to make some cakes…’

      Her grandmother wasn’t on her side, though. ‘Nonsense, Sam,’ she said quickly, ‘you’ve done everything, I saw you with СКАЧАТЬ