Free Sleep in Peace by Phyllis Bentley Page A

obstinacy had entered her voice, and its pitch was raised.
    â€œShut up, Frederick,” urged Edward.
    â€œShut up yourself,” replied his brother. The retort was merely one of habit, however; there was no venom in its tone, and no hostilities resulted.
    â€œWell, I must be off,” said Edward, rising.
    â€œWhere are you going, Edward?” demanded his father at once, appearing from behind his paper.
    â€œTo the Municipal Library, Father,” replied Edward.
    â€œFrederick, you’d better go with him,” said Mr. Hinchliffe, disappearing again.
    Frederick and Edward both sighed, but went off together dutifully. They could be heard, presently, in the narrow hall, putting on their coats and their school caps. Frederick opened the front door.
    â€œIt’s raining,” he observed.
    â€œOrder a cab,” said Edward promptly.
    Grace gave a shout of laughter, and even Mr. and Mrs. Hinchliffe smiled, for this was a family joke against the Armisteads.
    â€œPassages describing rain are innumerable in English Literature,” began Frederick in a mimic professorial tone.
    â€œBut what about cabs?” enquired Edward sardonically.
    The front door closed and the boys’ footsteps could be heard along Cromwell Place.
    Grace, humming slightly to herself, opened an exercise book and began to rule margins with a neatness and precision almost equal to Edward’s own. Grace had bright blue eyes and a fine aquiline profile like her elder brother, a very clear skin, almost transparent in its purity and showing every movement of the quick blood beneath, like Frederick’s; what was specially her own in her appearance at this stage was a mane of fair hair, securedon her head by a semi-circular comb and bounding down her back in thick warm waves. She shook this mane back impatiently now; she would prefer to confine it within a ribbon, for at school the headmistress was apt to make caustic remarks about hair which fell over the eyes, looking meanwhile rather markedly in Grace’s direction; but Grace’s hair was one of Mrs. Hinchliffe’s few vanities, and it was therefore allowed to flow free.
    Grace mildly regretted that the boys had both gone out, for they were always so amusing when they were at home; but the feeling, slight and ephemeral, did not remain or strike deep roots; for in Grace’s opinion one need never be dull in such a very exciting world.
    Grace’s world was a wide one. It included the Pennine Chain—a ridge of mountains stretching down the centre of England, and forming the backbone of that country from the Lake District to the Peak. (The boys had cycled to the Peak.) Part of this chain, said Edward, was composed of white limestone; on this grew very short very green grass, pasturing large, mild, eatable sheep. Part of the chain, on the other hand, was composed of millstone grit, a dark tough rock, with a peaty soil above it; here there flourished only rough grass and heather, pasturing wiry little wool-bearing sheep, whose fleeces were always dirty from the smoke from the mills. Hudley was built on one of the millstone grit spurs of the Pennine Chain; some people thought that some of the innumerable surrounding valleys had been made by glacial action, and Edward supported this view strongly. Hudley had a population of ninety-five thousand, and its chief manufactures were cloth and machine-tools; Grace’s father was a manufacturer. Hudley was ruled by a Town Council composed of Aldermen and Councillors; Grace’s father was a Councillor. The name of Hudley could not be found in the Domesday Book, said Frederick, which was a pity; but there was an entry about a place named Olandlei, which was possibly the same. Plainly, the name was of Anglo-Saxon origin, and meant “high land lea”, said Frederick; Edward,on the other hand, thought that many of these philological derivations were mere bunkum. Hudley was composed of streets, mills with tall