Free The Daughters of Mrs Peacock by Gerald Bullet Page A

Julia’s part to dispose of her sisters was no more than a game which she played in idle moments,when there was nothing more serious to occupy her. Mr Pardew had set it going, and it was to him, coupled in her fancy with Sarah, that her speculations always returned. She could not believe that his frequent visits, his delicately pointed attentions, his parade of a melancholy bravely borne under a mask of resolute cheerfulness, could ultimately fail of their purpose. At times she was tempted to take him aside and urge him to speak plainly, feeling it to be almost her duty, as the eldest in the family, to do what she could to ease his heart of its burden and promote her sister’s happiness. Nor was there any lack of opportunity, for she now, and she alone, helped him in the Sunday School. While he dealt with the bigger children, she got into a huddle with the little ones, telling them moral stories from the Old Testament, such as the Infant Samuel and Joseph and his Brethren, and explaining gently that if they were rude to old gentlemen, like the children who mocked Elisha (‘Go up, thou bald head!’), a she-bear would come down from the mountain and eat them up. Mountains, it was true, were conspicuously lacking in this midland shire, and bears not plentiful; but no doubt the lesson went home. Mr Pardew, however, gave her no opening, and she reluctantly decided not to interfere, at any rate for the present. Meanwhile it would be as well to sound Catherine.
    â€˜Whatever shall we do, Kitty,’ she said one day, ‘when Sarah’s gone? We shall miss her dreadfully.’
    Catherine stared. ‘Do you mean when she goes to Aunt Druid’s? Perhaps they won’t ask her. And it won’t be till the autumn anyhow. It never is.’
    Aunt Druid, Mrs Peacock’s sister, was the wife of aprosperous farmer in a neighbouring county, a long slow train-journey away, involving two changes. It was her habit to have one of her nieces to stay with her for a few weeks every year. She would gladly have had all three, but it was understood that only one could be spared. This year it was Sarah’s turn. Catherine, disliking the prospect of losing her, did her best to pretend that it might not happen, but knew in her heart that nothing was more certain that that the invitation would punctually arrive.
    â€˜I didn’t mean that, silly,’ said Julia. ‘I mean when she’s married.’
    â€˜What
are
you talking about, Julia? Is she going to be married? But how exciting! Who to, pray?’
    â€˜Well, it looks like it, doesn’t it? I mean …’
    â€˜Yes?
What
do you mean?’
    Julia flushed, but was not to be put off. Her scrutiny on occasions could be as keen and shrewd as Mama’s.
    â€˜I think there’s no doubt that she’s … liked a good deal, by a certain gentleman. You must have noticed that.’
    â€˜Not I,’ said Catherine coolly. ‘I’m too busy to concern myself with other people’s likings.’
    â€˜Don’t you think it’s true then?’
    â€˜How should I know? I’m not in your certain gentleman’s confidence.’
    â€˜No, but you
are
in Sarah’s,’ said Julia quickly. ‘She tells you everything.’
    â€˜Does she? I wonder. Not everything. No one tells everything. Still, I think she’d have told me, and you too, and Mama, if she were thinking of getting married.We’d have to know, wouldn’t we, sooner or later? I mean, she wouldn’t just elope, leaving a letter pinned to her pillow confessing all and begging forgiveness. That wouldn’t be a bit like her, so you really needn’t worry, dear Julia.’
    â€˜Now you’re just being foolish,’ sighed Julia. ‘All the same, I’m sure he likes her.’
    â€˜Who does?’
    â€˜Can’t you guess?’
    Catherine put on a considering air. ‘Well, it can hardly be Dr Witherby. And I