A Happy Meeting. Betty Neels

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      ‘Do encourage her to get up—she will be much better on her feet, will she not?’ Mrs Preece gave him a charming smile, her head a little on one side. Really, she thought, he was so good-looking and charming that one would agree to anything that he might say.

      ‘No, she would be much worse,’ said Dr van der Linus. He spoke with such calm charm that she didn’t realise that he had contradicted her flatly.

      ‘Well, Miss Mogford shall take you to her room,’ said Mrs Preece, ‘I find the stairs trying—I have to be careful.’

      She sounded wistful and long-suffering and if she expected the doctor to enquire sympathetically as to the reason she was to be disappointed.

      Miss Mogford, summoned, led him up the stairs in silence. Only at Cressida’s door she paused to look at him. She still said nothing, though she tapped on the door and opened it for him to go into the room.

      Cressida was sitting up in bed, her small person surrounded by sheets of newspaper upon which rested the silver epergne which she was polishing. There was nothing beautiful about her; her hair hung in its long plait over one shoulder, her face, un-made-up, shone with her exertions, and she had a smear on one cheek and both hands were grimed with silver polish. The doctor, a kind man, eyed her with much the same feelings which he would have displayed if he had encountered a kitten or a puppy in need of help.

      His, ‘Good morning, Miss Preece,’ was uttered with impersonal courtesy, and, since she was staring at him, open-mouthed, he said, ‘I happened to be passing and felt that the least I could do was to enquire about your ankle.’

      Cressida shut her mouth with a snap. She said politely, ‘How kind of you. I’m fine, thank you.’ She gave him a small smile. ‘Isn’t it a lovely morning?’

      ‘Splendid. May I look at your ankle? It is of course, none of my business, but I feel that it should be X-rayed.’

      ‘Well, I’m not sure,’ began Cressida, to be told by Moggy to hush.

      ‘The doctor knows best,’ said that lady sternly. ‘Just you lie still, Miss Cressida, and let him take a look.’

      The doctor bent his great height and examined the ankle. When he had looked his fill he straightened up again. ‘I’m not your doctor so I can do very little to help you, but I will do my best to advise your stepmother to allow the doctor to see you. It is a nasty sprain. It will get better quickly enough, though, provided it receives the right treatment.’

      ‘And if it doesn’t?’ asked Cressida in a matter-of-fact voice.

      ‘You will hobble around for a long time—a painful time too.’

      ‘Well, thank you. It was very kind of you to come. I suppose you don’t know what happened to that poor dog?’

      ‘He needs only good food and rest and good care.’ He smiled down at her. ‘I shall take him back with me when I go to Holland.’

      Her ordinary face was transformed by delight. ‘Oh, how absolutely super! I’m sure he’ll be a very handsome beast when he’s fully grown.’

      The doctor concealed his doubts admirably. ‘I have no doubt of that.’

      He put out a hand and engulfed hers in its firm grasp.

      ‘You’ll have to wash your hand,’ said Cressida in her sensible way, ‘it’s covered in polish.’ And then she added, ‘I hope you have a good journey home.’

      After he had gone she sat in her bed, the epergne forgotten, feeling lonely and somehow bereft.

      Beyond registering his opinion that Cressida should have her ankle X-rayed, the doctor didn’t waste time with Mrs Preece. He pleaded an urgent engagement and drove away.

      In the village he stopped, enquired as to where the doctor lived and presented himself at the surgery door. Dr Braddock was on the point of leaving on his rounds.

      ‘Van der Linus…’ he said. ‘I know that name. You wrote an article in the Lancet last month about neutropenia—a most interesting theory. Come in, come in, I’m delighted to meet you.’

      ‘I’ve been poaching on your preserves,’ said Dr van der Linus. ‘If I might explain…’

      Dr Braddock heard him out. ‘I’ll go this morning. I know—we all know—that things aren’t right at the Old Rectory. Little Cressida is a dear child but one cannot interfere—though I will do my best to get her into hospital for a few days for she will never be able to get the proper rest she needs if she is at home…’

      ‘It puts me in mind of Cinderella and her stepmother,’ observed Dr van der Linus.

      Dr Braddock nodded. ‘Ridiculous, isn’t it, in this day and age? There is obviously some reason which is keeping Cressida at home but she isn’t going to tell anyone what it is.’

      Dr van der Linus went on his way presently; he was going to be late for lunch at the Colliers’. As indeed he was, but he was an old friend and readily forgiven and moreover Jenny was an amusing companion. He told himself that he had done all that he could for Cressida Preece; she was a grown woman and should be capable of arranging her own life.

      On his way back to his grandmother’s house he reflected that she had seemed quite content with her lot. Probably things would improve. He frowned, aware that he was finding it difficult to forget her. ‘Which is absurd,’ he muttered. ‘I can’t even remember what she looks like.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      CRESSIDA, putting a final polish on the table silver, was astonished when Moggy opened the door to admit Dr Braddock.

      He wished them a good morning, patted her on the shoulder and signified his intention of examining her ankle.

      ‘However did you know about it?’ asked Cressida and tried not to wince as he prodded it gently.

      ‘Dr van der Linus very correctly informed me. How fortunate that he should have found you, my dear. I couldn’t better the strapping myself but you must have it X-rayed. I’ve got my car outside. I’ll run you in to Yeovil now and get it done…’

      ‘Must you? I mean, Stepmother’s got a dinner party this evening…’

      ‘There is no need for her to come with you,’ said Dr Braddock testily. He turned to Miss Mogford. ‘Do you suppose we could give her a chair downstairs? Just get her into a dressing-gown.’

      ‘How shall I get back here?’ asked Cressida sensibly.

      ‘Well, I have to come home, don’t I?’ He went to the door. ‘I’ll go and see your stepmother while Miss Mogford gets you ready, and don’t waste time.’

      ‘The silver,’ said Cressida urgently, watching Moggy bundling it up, ‘I haven’t quite finished it.’

      ‘Pooh,’ said Miss Mogford, ‘that’s of no importance. Here’s your dressing-gown.’

      Doctor Braddock came back presently and between them he and Miss Mogford carried Cressida down to the hall and out of the door, into his car. СКАЧАТЬ