Free The House of Discontent by Esther Wyndham

stretcher.
    “She’s still unconscious,” Patricia said as they opened the door of the car. “There seems to be a big lump on the top of her head.”
    “We’ll take her along to be X-rayed right away to see what the damage is,” the Matron said. “It is fortunate that Dr. Clarke happened to be here when Lady Brierleigh rang up.”
    Mary was lifted out and put on the stretcher and carried away. Anthony and Patricia walked back a few yards to meet Lady Brierleigh. “My dear, how is she?” the latter asked. They told her as much as they knew.
    “It’s so lucky to get a doctor so soon,” Patricia said.
    “Yes,” Lady Brierleigh agreed. “Dr. Clarke happened to have a special case which he had to come up and see this morning. It is also very fortunate that we happen to have a free bed. So we can keep Mary, anyway, for a few days if necessary.” She felt herself to be so much a part of the hospital which was her chief interest in life that unconsciously she used the personal pronoun when speaking of it. “By the way, I rang up The Knowle,” she continued. “Edward is coming immediately on his motor-bicycle—I wouldn’t be surprised if that is him now—and I said that one of us would go and fetch Mr. and Mrs. Leslie in the car.”
    “Shall I go and fetch them?” Patricia asked. “I can drive all right.”
    As she spoke she was looking down the avenue. Lady Brierleigh must have had very keen eyesight, for Patricia could only just discern now a kind of smoky cloud in the distance which, however, did resolve itself into Edward on his motor-bicycle as it came rapidly nearer.
    “No, I’ll go and fetch the Leslies,” Anthony said, “but you can come with me if you want to. I don’t suppose you’ll be able to do any good here—anyway, for a while—and there’s no point in hanging around.”
    “All right,” Patricia agreed. They were just getting into the car when Edward drove up. He jumped off his machine and at once asked Patricia for details of the accident. Patricia told him through the window of the car while he was taking off his goggles. “We are just going to fetch your father and mother,” she ended.
    “All right, I’ll wait around here in case she regains consciousness.” He and Anthony had merely nodded to each other.
    Patricia thought to herself: “And he probably hopes to get a glimpse of Camilla.”
    As they started off she said: “It’s funny that you don’t know Edward.”
    “I knew him as a boy,” Anthony replied. “He used to come to the skating parties and children’s parties we gave. But since we grew up I’ve hardly seen him. I haven’t been much at home, as a matter of fact.”
    “But you know Mary?”
    “Yes, I know her a bit better. She’s helped my mother with various bazaars.”
    “You’ve been abroad a lot,” Patricia said. It was half a statement, half an interrogation.
    “Yes,” he replied. “As much as possible.”
    He said this slightly bitterly and Patricia wondered what exactly he meant by it. Why should he have wanted to get away as much as possible? Surely one would have thought that he had everything he could possibly want at home. Suddenly she recalled Mrs. Grey’s words. What were they exactly? Something about the mistake one made in thinking that people had everything in the world they wanted just because they had everything you wanted.
    “Don’t you like this place?” she asked.
    “I adore the place,” he answered with great feeling. “And the country,” he added. “I think there is some of the most beautiful country in the whole of England round here. Have you been on to the moors yet?”
    “No.”
    “No, I don’t suppose they would have taken you up there,” he replied. “I suppose you have spent your time going to tea-parties.”
    There was so much contempt in his voice that she felt suddenly on the defensive. “Everybody has been extraordinarily kind to me,” she said. “Yes, they have asked me out to tea, but it is the