Free The Other Linding Girl by Mary Burchell Page B
Authors: Mary Burchell
extraordinarily important.
The glow of satisfaction faded slightly, and was replaced by a slight chill of nervousness, when she came into the drawing-room to find her uncle sitting in a chair by the fire, his cheek leaning on his very beautiful hand, in a picturesque attitude entirely natural to him.
He looked up as Rachel entered and held out his hand to her.
“Ah, my dear, come here. It does me good to see your bright face in these dark days.”
Rachel came across at once and put her hand into his. There was really nothing else to do. But it is extraordinarily difficult to go on holding someone’s hand for no special reason. At the same time, it is hard to disengage oneself without appearing to break the line of sympathy. Sir Everard was much given to these gestures, intrinsically telling, but difficult either to maintain or terminate with graciousness. So, feeling at a disadvantage right away, Rachel stood there holding his hand and said resolutely,
'‘Uncle, I want to talk to you about something—”
“My dear, you have an excellent opportunity.” Sir Everard solved her immediate difficulty at this, by releasing her hand of his own free will and indicating the chair opposite. “Tell me all about it,” he said in his mellow voice, as Rachel sat down, feeling rather like a valued patient about to enumerate her symptoms.
‘It’s about Nigel,” she heard herself say, with a bluntness in distressing contrast to her uncle’s well-considered periods and fine gestures.
“Nigel?” Sir Everard frowned, and for a moment she was afraid he was actually going to say that the name was never to be mentioned in his house again. Instead he enquired, with indignant protectiveness, “How has he been troubling you?”
“He hasn’t been troubling me at all,” stated Rachel, in her most matter-of-fact tone. “But his absence is troubling Paula, and I feel I must speak to you about it.”
‘Paula? Paula’s only a child! It’s no business of hers who comes to this house or does not come,” stated Paula’s father somewhat unrealistically.
“I’m afraid it is,” replied Rachel, almost as surprised as Sir Everard to find herself contradicting him flatly. “Paula is an affectionate, intelligent child, with few companions. She is deeply devoted to those she has, and among them Nigel is a favourite. Whether you like it or not,” she added, as her uncle made a gesture of protest
“I do not like it,” Sir Everard stated. “Anyway, I have forbidden Nigel my house, for good and sufficient reasons.”
Rachel controlled her rising temper with difficulty. “They may seem good and sufficient reasons to you, Uncle. But to Paula the whole thing is simply a mystery—and a very distressing one. How is one to explain to her that, quite suddenly, she simply doesn’t see her uncle anymore?”
“She’ll get over it after awhile,” dedared Sir Everard irritably.
“At the moment she is very much upset about it,” returned Rachel firmly, “She was crying when I went to say good-night to her, and I found that it was because she couldn’t understand her uncle’s non-appearance. I don’t think she is a child who cries easily, and I felt you should know about it” “Well—of course,” agreed Sir Everard “Crying, was she?” He frowned, for he loved his Paula when he remembered her existence. “But are you sure it was about Nigel? Wasn’t it because she misses her mother?”
“No” Rachel resolutely disposed of this explanation which would so obviously have been much more acceptable to her uncle. “I thought that too, at first, But she isn’t at all worried about Hester—”
“Then she should be,” interrupted Sir Everard indignantly. “What’s the matter with the child? Has she any natural feelings?”
“That’s nothing to do with it," Rachel pointed out. “We all went to the greatest trouble to see that she should not be worried. It seems we succeeded, What you—what we have not guarded
The glow of satisfaction faded slightly, and was replaced by a slight chill of nervousness, when she came into the drawing-room to find her uncle sitting in a chair by the fire, his cheek leaning on his very beautiful hand, in a picturesque attitude entirely natural to him.
He looked up as Rachel entered and held out his hand to her.
“Ah, my dear, come here. It does me good to see your bright face in these dark days.”
Rachel came across at once and put her hand into his. There was really nothing else to do. But it is extraordinarily difficult to go on holding someone’s hand for no special reason. At the same time, it is hard to disengage oneself without appearing to break the line of sympathy. Sir Everard was much given to these gestures, intrinsically telling, but difficult either to maintain or terminate with graciousness. So, feeling at a disadvantage right away, Rachel stood there holding his hand and said resolutely,
'‘Uncle, I want to talk to you about something—”
“My dear, you have an excellent opportunity.” Sir Everard solved her immediate difficulty at this, by releasing her hand of his own free will and indicating the chair opposite. “Tell me all about it,” he said in his mellow voice, as Rachel sat down, feeling rather like a valued patient about to enumerate her symptoms.
‘It’s about Nigel,” she heard herself say, with a bluntness in distressing contrast to her uncle’s well-considered periods and fine gestures.
“Nigel?” Sir Everard frowned, and for a moment she was afraid he was actually going to say that the name was never to be mentioned in his house again. Instead he enquired, with indignant protectiveness, “How has he been troubling you?”
“He hasn’t been troubling me at all,” stated Rachel, in her most matter-of-fact tone. “But his absence is troubling Paula, and I feel I must speak to you about it.”
‘Paula? Paula’s only a child! It’s no business of hers who comes to this house or does not come,” stated Paula’s father somewhat unrealistically.
“I’m afraid it is,” replied Rachel, almost as surprised as Sir Everard to find herself contradicting him flatly. “Paula is an affectionate, intelligent child, with few companions. She is deeply devoted to those she has, and among them Nigel is a favourite. Whether you like it or not,” she added, as her uncle made a gesture of protest
“I do not like it,” Sir Everard stated. “Anyway, I have forbidden Nigel my house, for good and sufficient reasons.”
Rachel controlled her rising temper with difficulty. “They may seem good and sufficient reasons to you, Uncle. But to Paula the whole thing is simply a mystery—and a very distressing one. How is one to explain to her that, quite suddenly, she simply doesn’t see her uncle anymore?”
“She’ll get over it after awhile,” dedared Sir Everard irritably.
“At the moment she is very much upset about it,” returned Rachel firmly, “She was crying when I went to say good-night to her, and I found that it was because she couldn’t understand her uncle’s non-appearance. I don’t think she is a child who cries easily, and I felt you should know about it” “Well—of course,” agreed Sir Everard “Crying, was she?” He frowned, for he loved his Paula when he remembered her existence. “But are you sure it was about Nigel? Wasn’t it because she misses her mother?”
“No” Rachel resolutely disposed of this explanation which would so obviously have been much more acceptable to her uncle. “I thought that too, at first, But she isn’t at all worried about Hester—”
“Then she should be,” interrupted Sir Everard indignantly. “What’s the matter with the child? Has she any natural feelings?”
“That’s nothing to do with it," Rachel pointed out. “We all went to the greatest trouble to see that she should not be worried. It seems we succeeded, What you—what we have not guarded