Free Mistress of the House by Eleanor Farnes Page A

down.
    “I’m so sorry, Max. I forget.”
    “I’m glad you do.”
    “Max, forgive me if I’m saying the wrong thing, but does it worry you?”
    “What, my—lameness?” The slightest hesitation before the word.
    “Yes.”
    “Do you mean physically or mentally?”
    “Well, both.”
    He looked at her for a moment, about to make a light, denying answer, but he changed his mind.
    “Yes,” he said. “Physically, it doesn’t hurt. It just aches when I’ve been doing too much. And it does ache. Mentally—well, yes to that, too.”
    “Don’t let it,” she said, her face very sweet in its seriousness. “People like you immensely, and don’t even think about it.”
    “Don’t you?” he asked her.
    “No. Not really.”
    “Come along,” he said, “or we shall be really late for supper.”
    She held out her hand to him and he took it. It was very soft and small boned in his own. They walked hand in hand until they came to the fields.
    Jessica was very moody and sullen all the evening. She was sure that Laurie had stayed behind all day, simply to annex Max when she and her mother went out. She was sure that Laurie had designs on Max. To Jessica, who had lived all her life on this farm and would not live anywhere else, it seemed that any girl who came from London would want to marry Max and stay here for ever. And she knew that she would hate any woman who married Max. Max was their own particular property, to love and care for. He was happy as he was (so thought Jessica) and she and her mother were happy too. She did not mind what Roger did with himself, as long as she and Max and their mother were together.
    She redoubled her efforts to do everything for Max and increased her rudeness to Laurie.
    A small climax was reached one day over tea, by the news that Aunt Hilda was arriving to stay a few days later. Mrs. Lorney told them casually, as she poured tea out of the big teapot, knowing that her family would not be very pleased.
    “Oh,” said Max drily, “so Aunt Hilda’s due again, is she?”
    “Well,” said Jessica, “where are you going to put her? Miss Giles is in her room.”
    Laurie looked up quickly.
    “Oh,” she said, “I can move. I don’t mind at all.”
    “It won’t be necessary,” said Mrs. Lorney. “There is plenty of room for everybody.”
    “Well, Aunt Hilda isn’t going to like it if you put her in one of those little back rooms, I know.”
    “I shouldn’t mind one of the back rooms,” said Laurie.
    “You’re not moving,” said Mrs. Lorney. “I shall arrange things.”
    “Aunt Hilda can have my room,” said Max. “It doesn’t matter two hoots to me where I sleep.”
    “Oh, no, Max,” said Jessica, hurt.
    “No, I couldn’t have that,” said Laurie.
    He looked from one to the other of them. Then he smiled.
    “For once,” he said, “I’m going to be master in this house, and do as I please. Aunt Hilda can have my room. It’s settled.”
    They said no more, but both Laurie and Jessica looked mutinous and Mrs. Lorney looked worried.
    Later, Laurie went to find Max in his office.
    “Hallo,” he said. “There’s no typing. I’m just doing the books.”
    “I haven’t come to type, and you know it.”
    “What is it, then?”
    “Look, Max, it’s about your room. I’m not going to have you turning out of your room for my sake. If I’m in Aunt Hilda’s room, I’ll change. I’ve told your mother so, and she says she can make one of the little back rooms very comfortable for me. I’m not going to upset the household.”
    “Laurie, it doesn’t matter to me where I sleep. As long as I’ve got a decent bed, the rest can go hang. Good lord, all this fuss about a room.”
    “But it matters to me, and Jessica is making an issue of it. She’ll never forgive me if I take your room, or Aunt Hilda takes it because of me. Look, Max, if you insist, then I shall move down into the village.”
    “Don’t do that,” he said quickly.
    “Well, sometimes I think it