Free (3/13) News from Thrush Green by Miss Read Page B

lips.
    'A pity,' murmured Richard, tackling pork chops en casserole with faint distaste.
    'She plays bridge and whist, and is a very nice person to talk to. She writes.'
    'Really?' replied Richard vaguely. Clearly his mind was concerned with his digestive tract.
    'Will you have any spare evenings?' pursued Winnie.
    Richard gave a gusty sigh, the sigh of one who, overburdened with work, still enjoys his martyrdom.
    'I very much doubt it. I shall be writing the notes on my experiments, of course, and I intend to spend as much time as I can refuting Carslake's idiotic principles. An obstinate fellow, if ever there was one, and a very elusive one too. I must thrash things out with him during the next few months.'
    Winnie felt a wave of pity for the absent Professor Carslake. Richard, on the rampage, must be an appalling bore. She decided to put aside the idea of arranging Richard's social life at Thrush Green. Richard obviously did not want it, and was it really fair to her friends to inflict her nephew on them, she added reasonably to herself?
    She watched him swallow a red pill and then a yellow and black one. It was quite apparent that he enjoyed them far more than the excellent dinner which Winnie had spent hours in preparing.
    'Coffee?' she asked, rising from the table. 'Or does Professor Goldstein forbid that too?' There was an edge to her tone which did not escape her observant husband.
    'No, indeed,' replied Richard, opening the drawing-room door politely. 'He approves of coffee, provided that the berries are really ripe, well roasted and coarsely ground. He doesn't agrée with percolators, though. He always strains his through muslin. Do you?'
    'Not with Nescafé,' said his aunt, with a hint of triumph, leading the way.

    Richard was not the only one at Thrush Green suffering from indigestion. Doctor Lovell gave Albert Piggott a prescription, and then a few words of sound advice.
    'Your wife's a fine cook, I know. But have small helpings. Don't forget your stomach was on short commons for years. It can't cope suddenly with all this bounty.'
    Nelly tossed her head when Albert relayed this piece of advice.
    'Good food never hurt nobody. Who does he think he is - the old Tin-ribs? He could do with a bit of flesh if anyone could. I bet he never gets his teeth into a decent steak-and-kidney pudding with that dreamy wife of his to do for him! Take them dratted pills, if you must, Albert Piggott, but you eat what's put in front of you and be thankful!'
    She seemed to surpass herself in the days that followed. Cold fat bacon with pickled onions, fried cod cutlets with chips and peas, ox-tail soup, hot and glutinous, with swedes mashed with butter, all followed each other in succession, flaunting their richness and tempting Albert to fatal indulgences. His liverishness grew: his temper became more morose than ever. Nelly became aggrieved and nagged more and more bitterly.
    The oilman began to figure largely in her conversation.
    Albert, belching prettily after consuming a plate piled with pickled brawn, beetroot and bubble-and-squeak, spoke his mind.
    'Can't you shut up about that ruddy oilman? Any more of it, and I'll tell 'im to stop calling. Givin' 'im cupsertea! Giggling like some fool-girl! I seen you at it - eggin' 'im on!'
    'I'll thank you,' said Nelly haughtily, 'to mind your tongue. I only treat him civil. The poor chap's wife's left him.'
    'Best day's work she ever done, I shouldn't wonder. You'd best take a leaf outer her book, my gal.'
    'It's a pity if I can't have a friendly word with a gentleman without you getting filthy ideas into your head,' snapped Nelly, crashing cutlery about dangerously. 'The Lord alone knows I get little enough pleasure from your company. If you're not down thecoke-hole you're in "The Two Pheasants". Why I was ever fool enough to give in to your begging of me to marry you I cannot think !'
    This complete travesty of the facts of Albert's wooing rendered him speechless. But not for long.
    'I