A Happy Meeting. Betty Neels

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СКАЧАТЬ stared down at her—such a plain little face but such beautiful eyes, and despite her smile she was unhappy. Not surprisingly, he considered; he had a poor view of Mrs Preece.

      Sitting opposite his grandmother that evening, he voiced his vague disquiet about Cressida. ‘The girl seems sensible enough,’ he observed, ‘and really one hardly expects the modern young woman to behave like Cinderella. Mrs Preece is someone that anyone with an ounce of good sense would get away from as quickly as possible.’

      ‘Then there must be a good reason for the girl to remain there. Have you any idea what it might be?’

      ‘None.’ He added, ‘I suppose there is no way of finding out?’

      ‘Well, of course there is; ask her.’

      ‘Perhaps I will. I must go up to town tomorrow but I’ll come down to say goodbye before I go over to Holland, my dear, and I’ll make time to see her then.’ He frowned. ‘Do you think I’m making a mountain out of a molehill? Probably I shall get short shrift…’

      ‘In that case you need do no more about it. On the other hand she may be longing to confide in someone.’

      It was a week later when he came back to Lady Merrill’s and on a sudden impulse turned off the main road to go to Minton Cracknell. He was within half a mile of the village when he saw Cressida, walking awkwardly with a stick, going in the same direction as he was. He drew up beside her, and opened the door. His ‘Hello, can I give you a lift?’ was casually uttered and when she turned to look at him he was careful to stay casual. She had been crying, although she smiled now and thanked him politely.

      ‘That’s kind of you, but I walk a little way each day, you know—it’s good for me.’

      The doctor said, ‘Get in, Cressida,’ in a gentle voice which none the less she felt compelled to obey. She got in.

      ‘Is your stepmother at home?’

      She shook her head. ‘No. She goes to Bath to have her hair done. Did you want to see her?’

      ‘No. Why have you been crying, Cressida?’ He leaned across her and closed the door. ‘Supposing you tell me what is wrong? And I must beg you not to tell me that there is nothing wrong, because that is merely wasting time. Possibly you do not wish to confide in a friend but since we are unlikely to meet again you can safely unburden yourself to me.’

      ‘I don’t think,’ began Cressida doubtfully, ‘actually, that it would be of any interest to you.’

      ‘You are politely telling me that it is none of my business. Quite right, and all the more reason to talk to me. Since it is none of my business I shall give you no advice, nor shall I read you a lecture or tell you that none of it matters.’ He laid a great arm along the seat behind her shoulders. ‘Now let’s have it…’

      It was hard to start, it had been all bottled up for so long, but once started Cressida was unable to stop. It all came pouring out. ‘It’s Moggy, you see,’ she explained. ‘If she leaves before she’s sixty she can’t have Father’s legacy and she depends on that for her old age…’

      ‘Have you seen the will…?’

      ‘No. Mr Tims, the solicitor, read it out to us but it was full of heretofores and those long words they use.’

      ‘Just supposing that there had been a misunderstanding about the terms of the legacy, Miss Mogford would be able to leave, would she not? And you would be free to leave home, knowing that her future was secure.’

      Cressida gave a great sniff and he glanced at her. She hardly looked her best, her hair was all over the place, as far as he could judge she had no make-up on and her clothes were deplorable. He said very kindly, ‘It is likely that Miss Mogford hasn’t understood the conditions of the legacy. If that could be looked into she might find herself free to leave before she is sixty. Who exactly told her of this condition?’

      ‘My stepmother.’

      The doctor frowned. Tiresome woman, and how on earth had he come to get involved in the business? All the same it seemed to him that he was the only one with a pair of scissors to cut the tangle. A pity that he would be leaving the country so soon…

      ‘Feel better?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes, thank you.’ She put a hand on the door-handle. ‘You’ve been very kind. I won’t keep you.’

      His hand came down on hers, firm and warm. ‘The rest of the day is my own. I’ll drive you home.’

      At the gates she asked him, ‘Would you like to come in? Moggy will make a pot of tea…’

      He had got out of the car too and stood looking down at her. ‘I should have liked that but I’m going into Yeovil to collect the dog. Have you any ideas about a name?’

      ‘Well, no. Oughtn’t he to have a Dutch name since he’s to live in Holland?’

      ‘He is English; he should have a name which is common to both countries.’

      ‘Caesar?’

      ‘That would do very nicely. It will suit him, too; he bids fair to be a large beast when he is grown.’

      Cressida put out a hand. ‘I’m so glad he’s going to be looked after. That’s wonderful; thank you again for all you’ve done. Goodbye.’

      The hand holding hers felt reassuringly large and secure. She wished very much that the doctor wasn’t going away. He would forget her, of course, but knowing him even for such a short time had been pleasant.

      He waited by the car until she reached the door and went inside, turning to give a final wave as she did so.

      She didn’t tell Moggy about the will. First she would write to Mr Tims; it would never do to raise the dear soul’s hopes until she had heard from him. Over their tea they talked about the dog and the splendid home he would have when he travelled to Holland.

      ‘Lucky beast,’ said Miss Mogford with a good deal of feeling.

      Dr van der Linus found his grandmother sitting in her high-backed armchair by a brisk fire. The weather was still fine and sunny, but, as she pointed out cheerfully, arthritis and old age needed warmth.

      He bent to kiss her cheek. ‘My dear, you are one of those lucky people who never grow old; you’re really a very pretty lady, you know.’

      ‘Go on with you! Buttering me up… What have you been doing with yourself?’

      ‘Working.’ He sat down opposite her. ‘Grandmother, do you know of a Mr Tims of Sherborne?’

      ‘Of course I do. He is my solicitor, has been for years—must be all of seventy.’

      ‘Do you suppose he would allow me the sight of Mr Preece’s will?’

      ‘Been to see that girl again, have you?’ Lady Merrill’s old eyes twinkled with amusement.

      ‘I met her on the road as I was coming here. She looked like a small wet hen. I gave her a lift home and got her to talk. I fancy Mrs Preece has—shall we say?—misunderstood the СКАЧАТЬ