Free The Lotus House by Katharine Moore Page B

mean Dick is, and his wretched parents have never offered to help.”
    “He’s got another family now to support, hasn’t he?” said Andrew. “And weren’t his parents pretty sick at your leaving him?”
    “Why are you defending him suddenly?” said Margot crossly.
    “I’m not particularly,” said Andrew, “I’m only stating the facts.”
    “Well, anyway, I think learning the piano will only take her attention and time away from proper lessons and she’s backward enough as it is.”
    “Can I see the letter?” asked Andrew. She tossed it over to him and he read it carefully.
    “I’d teach her myself,” he said thoughtfully, “only I’d find it difficult to be regular and besides, I’m sure I’m not a good teacher, I know nothing about it. I expect there are all sorts of new methods. Look here. Margot, if you can’t manage the extra money, I can.”
    Margot looked at him curiously. “I suppose I ought to be grateful,” she said, “but I rather think you’re offering this just to annoy me.”
    “Don’t be silly,” said Andrew.
    “Well, why this sudden concern for Harriet?”
    “I don’t think I’m doing it for Harriet exactly.”
    “Whatever for, then?”
    “For music, I suppose,” said Andrew slowly.
    Margot experienced a dim glimpse at worlds unrealized. She acknowledged, of course, the value of the arts in general. She went to an occasional concert though she knew (but would never have admitted it) that she would not really have wanted a single record on her Desert Island, but would have plumped for eight luxuries instead. She attended picture exhibitions as part of her work assignment and prided herself on her judgement of the monetary value of works of art, and she strove to keep abreast of the most talked-of films, plays and novels. Her furnishings and decorations were always interesting and in fashion, and therefore contained few permanent objects. Andrew’s piano was really the only recognizably stable feture in their successive sitting-rooms, also the only one that was there because it was loved. Margot saw, but did not feel, how beautiful things were. She did not understand what Andrew meant about music, but Harriet got her lessons.
    “Are you going to let the child practise on your precious piano?” asked Margot incredulously, for it soon became clear that practising at school wasn’t enough for either Miss Johnson or Harriet.
    “Yes, I think so,” said Andrew, “not when I’m working at home, of course, and never with sticky fingers.” He smiled at Harriet, “But I’m sure you’ll see to that, Harriet, won’t you?”
    “Yes, I will,” said Harriet.
    “Now darling,” Mrs Doll’s House Royce said to her little girl, “you must practise regularly every single day and you must never, never forget to wash your hands most properly first.”

CHAPTER SIX
    ALL THROUGH THE winter and spring Mrs Sanderson had difficulty in procuring any reliable domestic help. The Lotus House was not the type to attract these rare specimens, especially her own rooms with their wide expanses of floorboards needing polishing (she disliked fitted carpets) and actually with two antiquated open fireplaces. Helps arrived, drank a great deal of her tea or coffee according to taste, disapproved and disappeared. The latest had been a chain-smoker and had left trails of ash all over the place. Letty at last decided to tackle her, not because of the ash, nor for the smell of stale smoke which was unpleasantly difficult to get rid of, but about the dangers of lung cancer. She feared that any advice might be taken as interference but the girl was so young and it did seem a pity. Her gentle remonstrance however was not resented nor was it of any use.
    “Well, what I say is, we’ve all got a date fixed.” And she in her turn vanished without any warning.
    “You’re looking quite worn out, Mrs Sanderson,” said Miss Budgeon at the little corner shop. Letty bought all her fruit and vegetables there