Authors: Juliet Armstrong
“
I
’
m terribly sorry.
”
Catherine
’
s cheeks were burning, as she took the girl
’
s extended hand.
“
I was expecting to be met at Great Garsford, and it never occurred to me when your husband came
up—”
“
Husband! Andrew
’
s my big brother, not my husband—thank goodness!
”
The fair girl was s
m
iling now.
“
No, Andy, don
’
t pull my hair,
”
she exclaimed, as he tweaked a curl.
“
You always spoil my introductions.
”
And then she added seriously:
“
Playdle
’
s our name.
”
“
Mine
’
s Catherine Emberley, and I feel awful at making such a blunder,
”
poor Catherine stammered.
“
Heavens, there
’
s nothing to worry about. Andrew will take you along to your rightful direction in two two
’
s. Meanwhile let me introduce you to the rest of us.
”
And waving her hand in the direction of the tea table she observed cheerfully:
“
These friends of ours are Mr. and Mrs. Burlen and Roland Alldyke. And here,
”
as the door opened,
“
is the girl Andrew meant to meet, Beryl Osworth
.”
“
What a m
ix
-up.
”
Andrew went forward with an amused smile to greet his sister
’
s friend, and in that moment Catherine realized to her dismay that the newcomer was the very girl who had provoked that wretched little scene on the train. She felt certain that Beryl Osworth recognized her, though she gave no sign beyond a momentary widening of her dark eyes, and most sharply did she regret having related to Andrew Playdle her experience on the journey. How much better to have remained tongue-tied, in her usual fashion.
“
Won
’
t you stay to tea, Miss
Emberley?
”
Cecily asked pleasantly.
“
Or will your friends be anxiously awaiting you?
”
“
The point is, with whom are you staying?
”
Andrew put in.
“
As you will gather, being lost in Little Garsford is not like being astray in the great
city; we shan
’
t have to take you to the police station. In fact your hosts are probably among our closest acquaintance.
”
“
I want to go to Garsford House, where the Children
’
s Home is,
”
Catherine explained, her
”
embarrassment increasing.
“
I
’
m taking up a post ther
e
.
”
“
The Children
’
s Home!
”
The exclamation broke simultaneously from Andrew and Cecily; and there was not only astonishment in their tone, but another emotion,
which Catherine could not immediately analyze. She only knew that the temperature seemed suddenly to have fallen several degrees.
“I’l
l
drop Miss Emberley.
”
It was the dark, rather faun-like young man who had been introduced to her as Roland Alldyke who spoke.
“
I was on the point of leaving, anyway, and Garsford House is on my way to Brexham.
”
“
Are you sure?
”
Andrew Playdle sounded unflatteringly pleased to be relieved of her company, Catherine thought, queerly hurt and puzzled by his altered manner. Why had he changed after seeming so friendly, she wondered. Oh, well, she supposed, regret struggling with resentment, he and his sister were the selfish sort, who thought of children in terms of tiresome brats—especially children who, through no fault of their own, were being
brought up partly, if not wholly, at the ratepayers
’
expense. They were too smug and comfortable, no doubt, to have any real sympathy with the unfortunate.
“
It
’
s very good of you.
”
In her gratitude to Roland Alldyke for saving the situation, Catherine forgot her shyness and gave him a singularly sweet smile. Then turning to the others, she observed again, a little stiffly:
“
I can
’
t tell you how sorry I
am to have made such a nuisance of myself.
”
“
You
’
ve done nothing of the kind, I assure you.
”
Cecily had almost—though not quite—recovered herself, and Andrew added with an effort
at lightness:
“
It
’
s been quite an adventurous journey for
you, one way and another—what with the fracas on the train with the young woman who was trying to
get by without paying her proper fare
—”
Absolutely overcome with confusion now, Catherine, sedulously avoiding Beryl Osworth
’
s eyes, looked again at Roland.
“
Would it be hurrying you, if we went right away?
”
she asked nervously.
“
I am afraid Matron will be wondering what has happened to me—that is, if the man who ought to have met me at the station turns up there, and finds me gone.
”
“
We
’
ll go right away. I promised my aunt and uncle to be back in time to help dispense sherry to some neighbors of theirs, and as Brexham is half-way to Byttleton, I haven
’
t too much time.
”
“
Listen to him!
”
Beryl Osworth
’
s tone of amusement had a slight edge to it.
“
Time, indeed! He didn
’
t have much difficulty in racing the train from the Junction to Great Garsford, that
’
s all I can say.
”
“
I could do that on a push-bike, darling,
”
Roland retorted.
“
But come along, Miss Emberley. Let
’
s make our goodbyes and hop it. My car
’
s round at the side, but it won
’
t take a minute to bring it to the front.
”
A few moments later Catherine was sitting beside Roland in the low racing car and, with Andrew standing at the door to see them off, they started back down the bumpy drive.
“
What a frightful joke all this is.
”
Roland seemed in the best possible humor—not in the least upset at having to break off his tea-party, and escort her to the Home.
“
Whatever made you mistake Andrew for the porter belonging to the orphanage— as I imagine you must have done?
”
“
I didn
’
t mistake him for a porter,
”
Catherine explained awkwardly.
“
I was told to look out for a market gardener, who was going to pick me up and bring me out if he possibly could. What with seeing a truck hitched on to Mr. Playdle
’
s car, and his apparently expecting me—
”
“
Market gardener! That
’
s really funny.
”
Roland was grinning broadly.
“
Andrew Playdle is a farmer— but in a
v
ery, very big way. He does it because he is keen on it, and because he thinks that to work the land his forebears possessed is his only justification for continuing to own it, and live in the house they built. He
does
work, too. You can tell that by the state of those frightful clothes he nearly always wears.
”
She nodded, digesting this piece of information, and he went on suddenly.
“
What
’
s all this about your taking a job as foster-mother? Couldn
’
t you find some less dreary occupation?
”
“
It won
’
t be dreary, it will be fun,
”
she countered, possessed already by a sense of loyalty to the Home she had not yet seen.
“
I love being with children.
”
“
Personally I find them appalling.
”
He gave a realistic shudder.
“
All boys are dreadful; and the only girls I can do with—and I can do with them very well, I may tell you—are those between sixteen and forty.
”
“
I
’
m afraid the Home wouldn
’
t suit you, then,
”
she returned dryly.
“
Sixteen is the leaving age.
”
“
It wouldn
’
t suit me at all. I may be a lot of things before I die—change, after all, is the spice of life—but not, I somehow think, a foster-father in a home for indigent infants.
”
“
I certainly can
’
t imagine you in that role,
”
she observed with a twinkle. And then, fearing that she was being too personal, she continued staidly:
“
It was really awfully good of you to cut your tea short and bring me away. I can
’
t tell you how grateful
I
am.
”
“
If you want the truth, my promptness was partly due to my desire to annoy Beryl!
”
The little car rocketed out of the drive into the main road.
“
I took the trouble to meet her at Byttleton Junction and bring her out to Little Garsford, instead of letting her finish the journey by train, on the strength of her promising to go out for a run with me the day after tomorrow. She
’
s an old school friend of Cecily
’
s, but she
’
s been in Bermuda with her people for some years, so had never met Andrew. However, when she saw that big photograph of him in the drawing room, she decided that he might be a more attractive proposition than my good self. At least, that
’
s how I read her sudden discovery that it wouldn
’
t be polite to leave her host and hostess for an afternoon so soon after her arrival.
”
“
But
it wouldn
’
t have been
,
surely!
”
Little as she wished to defend Beryl—in whom she took less than no interest—Catherine could not keep back the retort.
Roland Alldyke burst out laughing.
“
You don
’
t know Beryl as well as I do. She comes from the same part of the country—the Thames Valley district. In fact we went to the same little prep, school. If she wants to do something, she simply does it—to the accompaniment of a stream of honeyed excuses, if she thinks the person to be apologized to is worth them.
”
And then he added, confidentially, but with deepening amusement:
“
Do tell me one thing. Was it Beryl who was caught out trying to
travel first on a second-class ticket—or something of that sort? I happened to notice her expression when Andrew came out with that remark of his—and then observed your confusion. Putting t
w
o and two together—and happening, as I have already said, to know Beryl very well—I couldn
’
t help wondering—
”
To Catherine
’
s relief, all necessity for answering that question—whether by way of hedging or by silence—was removed. They turned sharply that moment into a short drive, just as another car, a big, battered-looking object—emerged, and the difficulty of avoiding a collision took Roland
’
s thoughts off everything else. Skilful manoeuvring by both drivers saved the situation, and a moment later the little racing car was pulling up outside a solid-looking square house, in the porch of which a solid-looking woman was standing, very neat in her dark blue
overall, and with a surprised and by no means pleased expression on her ruddy, weather-beaten features
.