Free Sister of the Bride by Henrietta Reid Page B

more like a fish out of water. As she rose to go she patted my hand and said, ‘You will promise to come to us tomorrow afternoon, won’t you, my dear? There’ll only be the family: Eric and Vance and myself, and you mustn’t mind Eric too much. He can be disconcerting at times, but then he’s rather bitter , I’m afraid, and it’s inclined to make him unjust.’
    ‘No, I shan’t mind,’ I said quiet l y. ‘I’ve already met Eric and I realize how he resents his disability.’
    ‘Oh, so you’ve met Eric!’ For a moment she looked nonplussed and I could see that my cool rejoinder had taken her by surprise and made her wary as though, for the first time, she suspected that I might not prove as accommodating as Averil. But immediately she regained her poise. ‘Then I can expect you,’ she said pleasantly as she made her departure.
    I watched as her fashionably thin figure in the perfectly fitting tweeds walked down the path to where her chauffeur was patiently waiting. She waved as she drove off and I wondered why I had been weak enough to accept her invitation. When Averil returned from her cruise, Mrs. Ashmore and her world would be quickly put behind me. I closed the door and called Rodney from the garden.
    He raced up eagerly, relieved that the coast was clear. ‘You’re not really going to visit that horrid Mrs. Ashmore tomorrow?’ he asked incredulously.
    ‘How do you know ? ’ I said, surprised.
    ‘I was listening outside the window.’ He smiled smugly.
    I said severely, ‘You know perfectly well you shouldn’t, don’t you?’
    He nodded agreement. ‘But why are you going to Ashmore House? You haven’t told me,’ he persisted.
    I gazed at him helplessly. It was impossible to tell him my reasons when I couldn’t explain them to myself, though I had the unpleasant feeling that somehow or other they involved Vance Ashmore.

 
    CHAPTER FIVE
    I TOOK especial care as I dressed the following afternoon for my visit to Ashmore House. When I was ready I critically surveyed myself in the long mirror. I was looking my best, I decided. The sage green linen frock suited my colouring and as the day was hot and sunny I wore a wide-brimmed hat of burnt orange that flopped against my shoulders. Downstairs I could hear Mrs. McAlister rattling busily at the kitchen stove. She had promised to stay on until I returned. I felt faintly annoyed with myself for caring how I looked, but then I assured myself firmly that it was simply a gesture of defiance.
    It was Mrs. McAlister who punctured my self - confidence.
    When I went downstairs she tamed from the stove, her face scarlet where she had been frying kippers for what she called her ‘high tea.’ ‘Well, dearie, you certainly look a fair picture,’ she exclaimed with an air of unflattering astonishment. She chuckled insinuatingly. ‘It’s plain that Mr. Vance must have taken your fancy, but then it’s not surprising, for all the lassies hereabouts are daft after him. Though goodness knows he’s not what you’d call handsome. It’s not surprising he has a fine notion of himself.
    ‘I certainly haven’t taken a fancy, as you call it, to Vance Ashmore,’ I said crossly.
    Mrs. McAlister, however, was not squashed. She chattered on good-naturedly as she transferred the kippers to a hot plate. ‘Now you run along, dearie ’ she said affably, ‘and don’t bother your head about the wean, for we’ll get on like a house afire.’
    Rodney, who was regarding the kippers without enthusiasm, said loudly, ‘I’m not “a wean”, and I hate kippers.’
    Mrs. McAlister looked dismayed. ‘Hate kippers! Did you ever hear the likes!’ she exclaimed dis believingl y. ‘Now you just sit down there like a good wee boy, and I’ll give you a lovely big kipper all to yourself. ’
    As I went out I could hear Rodney reply, whiningly, ‘ I won’t take your horrid old kipper, so there you are!’ Mrs. McAlister’s voice was raised incredulously.
    I crossed the