Free Sunflower by Rebecca West

knew that he would tell, she did go and get married, though she knew that she’d get put in prison, and he was awfully happy, and he did die. Wasn’t it wonderful of her? Wasn’t it wonderful?’
    ‘Yes, indeed it was,’ said Harrowby. But it struck her that she had not told the story quite as well as she might have done, though on thinking it over she did not see that she had left out anything. So to clench matters she declared earnestly, ‘Really, Harrowby, she was the most wonderful person I’ve ever, ever seen!’ Then she saw she had impressed him, for he stared at her with large eyes and said, ‘It does you all the good in the world to take a day off, Miss,’ which was so irrelevant that he could only have said it to disguise his emotions. So that was all right.
    She drew a deep breath of contentment and looked round her. ‘Isn’t it a lovely evening?’ she murmured. Her gaze ranged lovingly over everything, and came to the sash-windows in the proprietor’s house, with their shining panes and neat curtains of Nottingham lace. She smiled happily, for now she had seen Alice Hester she could be unreservedly happy about those people. It was quite likely that the little man would go on loving the ugly girl until he died. She said, ‘I’d like to say good-bye to that little man who was there.’
    ‘Well, I shouldn’t say there was much chance of seeing him this evening. There’s been a lot of coming and going since you went out. A domestic event, I should say. That’s the doctor’s car over there.’
    They gazed up at the little house, which looked stern and knowing there in the shadow.
    ‘She’s very young,’ said Sunflower.
    But Alice Hester must have been as young when she began, and it had turned out glorious for her.
    ‘I wish I knew if it were a boy or a girl,’ she speculated with a new shamelessness. ‘I’d like to send it something.’
    They continued to gaze up at the grave little house.
    ‘We’d best be making a move,’ said Harrowby at length. ‘You’ll be getting tired, Miss. I’ve got to take you down to rehearsal tomorrow at eleven, I know.’
    ‘It’s funny. I am a little tired. But I’ve had a lovely, lovely day.’ She got into the car, and he settled the rugs round her. She would have her dinner in bed; a boiled egg, and some bread and honey.

II
    WHEN Parkyns opened the door she said very quickly: ‘My lord is here. He came at six o’clock.’
    ‘Oh I am glad!’ exclaimed Sunflower. Now she would be able to tell him about Alice Hester at once. ‘Where is he?’
    ‘He is at dinner, Madam, and—’
    But Sunflower threw down her gloves and bag on the hall-table, and ran right into the dining-room, which was silted up with late twilight. As she came from behind the draught-screen at the door Essington rose out of the tall chair at the head of the table, which was where she sat as a rule. She could not see his face; on the settee behind him burned the three candles that were as yet the only light in the room. She went to him, holding out her arms and crying, ‘Oh, darling! I’ve seen something so wonderful today! I went to the Assize Court in Packbury, and there was an old woman of seventy who had committed bigamy—’
    But he kept silence, lowering his head a little, in the way which always meant that she had done something stupid and that he was not going to help her out of it. There was the sound of another chair being pushed backward. Why, there were two other people in the room. A broad-browed, middle-aged woman with straight black hair and an earthy skin looked up at her over the edge of a wineglass with a curious expression into which Sunflower stared for a moment; it was like the expression that might be exchanged between two servants waiting at table on a troublesome master. And at the foot of the table stood a little man with fox-coloured hair and a very big mouth, and queer eyes the colour of bad weather.
    She put out her hand and exclaimed foolishly,