Free The girl in the blue dress by Mary Burchell Page B

fellow."
Franklin Lowell grinned reminiscently. "Now my old man wouldn't have
managed to say as much as that about the place where he was born and bred. And
I don't expect Mr. Wayne has passed through Binwick more than a dozen times in the
car. You would think he'd left half his heart there."
    Beverley laughed. "He
has a wonderful speaking voice, " she said sincerely.
    "Yes. I suppose he's
what you mean by a spellbinder, " her companion agreed, but without
rancour. "They
all have a touch of it. I think that's why they fascinate me as a family."
    "Do they fascinate
you?" Beverley was interested, and a little amused to hear him admit to that. "I mean,
I understand that your fiancée fascinates you, naturally. But, as a
family?"
    "Yes. The whole lot of
them. Even Toni. There is nothing the least bit standardized about them, in an
increasingly standardized world. Sometimes I don't think I understand any of
them. Not even Sara. Perhaps least of all Sara, " he added, half to
himself.
    But before Beverley could ask
him what he meant by that, if, indeed, she could have done so in any case, Sara
herself came out of the house again and rejoined them.
    "I'm sorry. I hope I
didn't keep you too long."
    "It's all right."
Franklin smiled at her, with an air of affectionate indulgence which Beverley
found charming.
    They drove off then. And, sitting
there in the back seat
of the car, Beverley unobtrusively watched the other two, as they chatted to each other in
front. Once or
twice Sara turned round and included Beverley in the conversation. But mostly
she and Franklin appeared to be talking about the' structural alterations they
were going to see.
    In a sense they were on good
terms, Beverley supposed. That was to say they seemed to agree quite pleasantly
about what should still be done, and several times he turned to flash that
singularly attractive smile at Sara. And yet, all that Beverley could say to
herself was that she would have felt and behaved quite differently if she had
been driving out with Geoffrey to inspect their future home.
    But this, she reminded
herself, could be quite easily explained by the difference in temperament between
her and Sara Wayne. Why should Sara be eager and expansive and excited, if that
were not her disposition?
    The drive took less than
twenty minutes and brought them to Eithorpe Hall, which had, Beverley remembered,
been inhabited during most of her growing-up years by an elderly recluse who
had died about five years previously.
    "Why, I didn't realize
you lived here!" she said to Franklin Lowell. "It was empty for
several years, wasn't
it?"
    "Yes. I bought it about
a year ago. And now Sara and I are gradually having it changed to suit our future
plans."
    "Then my portrait, I
mean the picture of me hasn't been hanging here long?"
    "Oh, no. I had it in my
flat in London."
    "In your flat?"
    "Yes. Why not?" He
glanced round, rather amused, she realized.
    "Oh, I, don't know, "
Beverley said. But what she was really thinking was that there was something extraordinarily
intimate about living with a portrait in a flat. Even a big flat. And even if
the portrait were of a little girl.
    In a big country house one
might not notice it for days on end. It might even become part of the general
surroundings. But in a flat, somehow, it was like a day-to-day personal
contact. She thought she saw now why he had spoken of her picture as "my little
girl in the blue and white frock" in that half amused, half-fanciful way.
And the reflection curiously touched her.
    When they came into the big
panelled entrance hall of the house, the very correct and elderly housekeeper
came out to greet them, and almost immediately Sara excused herself and went
off with her.
    "Show Miss Farman her
picture, " she said to Franklin over her shoulder. "I shan't be
long."
    And so, rather to Beverley's
pleasure, she and Franklin Lowell went off together to look at her picture.
    It was hanging, in an
excellent light, in a small panelled room, which