Free Listening for Lions by Gloria Whelan Page B

mean?”
    I felt my cheeks burning. “I mean just one simple dress. Mother likes fashionable things, but I like plain things. I think they suit me better.”
    He stared quizzically at me for a bit and then said, “We’ll take care of that by and by. Now, you will have to sing for your supper. My world has dwindled to just this room and this bed. Though I know you don’t care for Africa, surely there must be one tale of the country you could tell me. I suppose there are lions and leopards and such?”
    â€œOh, yes,” I said. I told him how in the nighttime you could hear the lions. “It is as if Africa itself were speaking.” And then without thinking I began my story of the leopard and the duiker. I knew that Valerie would not have been walking about in the bush, so I said it had happened to a friend. I had not told the story to anyone before, so all the fear I had felt at that flash of menacing gold was fresh in my mind. As I told the story, my hands shook and my words rushed along as quickly as the leopard. When I had finished, I looked at the grandfather, and he was staring at me in a most alarming way.
    â€œWhat a frightening story,” he said. “You tell it as if it had happened to you.”
    Hastily I said, “Oh, no. It was my friend. My parents would never allow me to walk alone in the bush.”
    â€œYes, I can quite see why. Who is this little friend of yours?”
    â€œHer parents were missionaries and had a hospital.” I stumbled over the words.
    â€œI would not have thought my son would have much to do with missionaries. What was the girl’s name?”
    â€œRachel Sheridan,” I said, hearing my name spoken aloud for the first time in over a month.
    The grandfather stared at me. “Well, Rachel must be an interesting child. I would like to hear more of her. Now I think I must rest. Is there anything you would like?”
    â€œThere is one thing. When I had my dinner, there was a young man who stayed in the room and watched me. It made me nervous.”
    â€œOh, that is only Arthur, the new footman. He is just back from the war. Had a very bad time. He is the housekeeper Mrs. Bittery’s nephew, and needed work. Best he could do, no other jobs available. He is probably more nervous than you are. Still, sitting alone in that great dining room won’t do. I’ll tell Mrs. Bittery you will be having your dinners up here with me.”
    â€œThank you, Sir.” I was not sure which would be worse, Arthur looming over my dinner or the grandfather with his sharp eyes watching my every move.
    â€œAnd you are not to call me ‘sir.’ I am your grandfather. Now I am very tired, child.”
    As I tiptoed out, I could hear his faint snores.
    Burker appeared as if by magic to announce, “There is a fire in the library, Miss.” He saw my confusion and led me a slow, stately march to the library. There were shelves all the way around the room, and every shelf was crowded with books. I had not thought so many books existed. I thought how happy the beetles would have been with such a feast. There was a desk, several big leather chairs, a wooden floor covered with faded rugs, and in front of the fireplace a sofa with soft pillows. The shelves stopped several feet short of the ceiling, leaving room for a row of busts of what I imagined must be famous gentlemen. Lamps cast little pools of light in the room, and the sound and smell of the fire reminded me of the fires the Kikuyu would make outside their huts when they roasted goats.
    Though the eyes of the famous gentlemen appeared to regard me with suspicion, I took a deep breath and picked out a book. It was Dickens’s Great Expectations , which I had never read. I curled up on the sofa and after a few minutes forgot all my troubles and thought only of the troubles of Pip. I must have fallen asleep, for I was suddenly aware of whispers at the doorway.
    â€œChildren