Free Mistress of the House by Eleanor Farnes Page B

would be better. It isn’t right that I should cause strife.”
    “There isn’t any strife.”
    “Between Jessica and me there is. I don’t want it.”
    “Don’t go away, Laurie.”
    She stood in doubt. He rose and faced her.
    “Don’t go,” he repeated.
    She looked at him.
    “ I don’t want you to go,” he said. “The whole place is nicer for your being here. And it will be very dull if you go.”
    “All right. I’ll stay—in the back room.”
    “Obstinate,” he said. They laughed together. Laurie leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He flushed darkly. Then he caught her into his arms and held her there for a few brief seconds.
    When she pulled herself away, he let her go at once. “I’m so sorry,” she said, and she laughed to make a joke of it. “I shouldn’t do such embarrassing things. You’re always so nice to me, Max, that you make me feel too much like one of the family.”
    “Don’t apologize,” he said. “I liked it.” But to have her cherishing a brother and sister fondness for him was the last thing he wanted.
    Laurie, with a smile over her shoulder for him, went out to tell Mrs. Lorney that it was definitely settled. She would have one of the little back rooms. “You know,” said Mrs. Lorney, “I don’t like it at all. After all, you are a paying guest and you’re entitled to comfort. Aunt Hilda is not a paying guest—not that I mind that, of course—but it is as Jess says. She would be a martyr all the summer and never let us forget it. And, after all, we can make those little rooms comfortable if we try.”
    It became obvious that Max did not intend to let Laurie get away with too complete a victory. When she came home from the Humphries next day, it was to find that Max had repapered the walls of her new room, and was busy with the paintwork. He had chosen a shade between peach and apricot, with the paintwork a little darker; and when she expressed her pleasure in the color scheme, he said: “It’s your color—warm and rich. It suits you. And anyway, it’s a north-west room and needs a little richness.” When the decorations were finished, a very pretty carpet found its way into the room from Mrs. Lorney’s, and some of the choicest pieces of furniture in the house followed it, some of them from Aunt Hilda’s collection. The Lorneys were showing their affection for her.

 
    CHAPTER FIVE
    Laurie sat in the study of White Lodge and looked out over the garden. Mr. Humphries had been called out to an important visitor, and she was about to start on a filling-in job until he returned; but for a few minutes she sat and looked out at the masses of daffodils that swayed in the wind among the trees. Her thoughts were turned exclusively upon Max—indeed, he had filled all her spare time for the last few days. She realized that she was becoming too fond of Max for her peace of mind. How foolish she had been the other evening to volunteer a kiss, however innocuous it might be. It had been such an irresistible temptation, and she had barely had the presence of mind to turn it into a little joke between them. A sudden temptation, too; as unexpected to Laurie as it was to Max; a sudden longing to touch him. Of course he would take her into his arms—he could hardly do otherwise than give her a hug. But it wasn’t a hug, she protested to herself. It was nicer than a hug, and now I keep wanting him to do it again.
    She knew that it was on account of Max that she was anxious to stay at the farm. She liked Mrs. Lorney very much and found Roger agreeable, but they would never have outweighed Jessica’s hostility by themselves. She like the farm, too; and the comfortable farmhouse, but she would have tried to find as pleasant a place in the village, were it not for Max. She knew that she waited for him to come into the house, for tea or for supper, listening to every footstep for the one that limped unevenly. ‘Am I falling in love with him?’ she wondered, ‘or could it be