Vanishing Point

One of the things on the stand was an ornamental brush. You could tell it wasn’t meant to be used. Miss Holiday gave her head a toss. Whether it was, or whether it wasn’t, she was going to use it, and no one was going to stop her. She whisked away a cinder and flicked at some imaginary dust. This gave her a feeling of superiority. Her nervousness at being alone in Miss Crewe’s room had gone as she hung the brush up in its place and got to her feet. Now that she was here, she wasn’t in any hurry to go. She walked all round the room, looking at the china and being glad all over again that she didn’t have to dust it. She thought most of it very ugly, but there was a plate with birds on it that took her fancy. She was partial to birds. There was a row of them in a cabinet which she wouldn’t have minded having if they had been going cheap in a sale. She’d have gone up to a pound if they had gone for that. There were six of them, in pairs like ornaments ought to be-two green, two yellow, and two with brown feathers and rosy breasts. She made the circuit of the room and went over to straighten the cushions in Miss Crewe’s chair.

She didn’t think she had ever got such a start in her life as when she heard the footsteps. Her hand went to her overall pocket and her mouth dropped open on a suppressed scream. And after all it was only Mrs. Bolder come to see why in the world she hadn’t come down to her tea. Not that she would have wanted to put Mrs. Bolder about like that, because she wouldn’t, but who’d have thought of her coming through into the front? Once a day to see Miss Crewe about the orders, but that was the begi

“And what are you doing here?” she said. “Oh, you come in to see to the fire, did you? And Miss Crewe only gone out a half an hour! Coal burns quick enough, we all know that, but it don’t burn as quick as that would come to. And you’ve no business in this room, as well you know, or you wouldn’t have jumped like you did when I come in. And I’ll thank you, Miss Holiday, to mind your own business and to let me get on with mine which was making the tea, and the kettle boiling over this quarter of an hour, and me wondering whether you’d been took with a stroke or fallen down somewhere in a fit.”

Miss Holiday was moved to feeble protest.

“Fits nor strokes is not what we’ve ever had, not in our family,” she said.

Her hands had gone into her overall pockets, but she could feel them trembling there. She went past Mrs. Bolder, standing to see her out of the room, and heard the clap of the door as she followed her. She had been looking forward to her tea, because there was always a nice cake Sundays, but she wasn’t going to be able to enjoy it, not if she had to eat it with temper sauce. She went meekly down the passage, and across the hall, and through the baize door with Mrs. Bolder’s tongue driving her.

CHAPTER 12

It was about half an hour later that Miss Lucy Cu

“Well, here I am,” she said, “and better late than never, but I do like to give Henry his tea. And then I thought I would just drop in and have a word with Mrs. Stubbs about the broody hen she has promised me. My crossed birds won’t sit. But I won’t have that light Sussex she lent me last year-a most contrary bird, and I lost half the chicks. I thought I’d just make sure I didn’t get her again, so I went down to the Holly Tree and came along by the road. How do you do, Mr. Lester? You are at the Holly Tree, are you not? I think my brother met you there. I hope Mrs. Stubbs makes you comfortable-but I needn’t ask, she always does.” She dropped the hand which she had been shaking and addressed the room in general. “Now don’t let me go away without my umbrella. Perhaps I had better keep it by me. But you can take my waterproof, Nicholas. And yes, perhaps the coat too. It’s really quite dreadfully hot in here. Much better for Je

Divested of successive layers of clothing, she appeared a good deal less bulky, though still more than comfortably plump. Yoghourt or no yoghourt, she made an excellent tea, and continued to talk in a rapid discursive ma

Nicholas burst out laughing.

“I should have thought dieting would begin at home. You don’t take any of these things yourself, and thank heaven you know better than to inflict them on your family.”

Miss Lucy’s round blue eyes had quite a hurt expression.

“But, my dear, I don’t need them. I daresay I might become slimmer, but if you feel well you feel well, and what do a few pounds matter when all is said and done?”

Je

“But Rosamond and I don’t want to lose any pounds. We’re always being told we ought to put them on.”

“Oh, but you would, my dear, I’m sure. You wouldn’t be slimming, and you could have cream and butter and eggs, and even suet pudding if you wanted to.”

“I shouldn’t want to if I had black treacle and that sour milk stuff,” said Je

Rosamond moved across until she was between Je

The hens petered out after a little. Miss Cu

“I would have liked to see Lydia. I suppose she won’t be late?”

“Oh, no.”

“It is not as if she has any distance to go. Henry saw her turn in at the White Cottage.”

“So did I,” said Craig Lester, and then felt that perhaps he had better have held his tongue.

Miss Lucy said, “Oh, dear!” in a tone which made it plain that she knew all about the meeting with Henry Cu

“I wouldn’t dare ask her-I really wouldn’t.”

“Faint heart never won fair biscuit!” said Nicholas, laughing. “You all tremble before her, and she knows it. Rosamond is the worst of the lot.”