The second collection of 3 great novels by Mary Burchell

by Burchell, Mary

  "I think,** Thea said, looking down at her hands with

  great attention, "that perhaps you did earn the privilege yesterday by coming so kindly
  He laughed quietly at that and, considerably to her astonishment, took one of her hands and kissed it lightly, *'Thank you, Thea. I shall try to deserve the privilege," he said, and though she felt a little bit like someone on a stage, Thea secretly greatly enjoyed the experience.

  Then he straightened up, and at that moment Geraldine came in, looking incredibly fresh and young and elegant, and smiling much more pleasantly than Thea had supposed she could.

  "Good morning, both of you. What brought you here at this ridiculously early hour, Lindsay?'*

  "Your charming presence, of course, ** he assured her.

  "Nonsense. I have an idea that you imagine you're here to see fair play," she returned imperturbably. "He thinks I shall treat you very badly, Thea." She turned and gave Thea a perfectly agreeable look. "And I suppose I way rather poisonous yesterday evening, but I had a headache, I'd just written a check for my income tax, and I felt I'd forgotten half my role, so you must forgive me."

  "Why, of course." Thea was so enchanted by this change in her cousin that she felt she would have forgiven her almost anything short of murder. "I'm sure it was very vexing to have me turn up like this.''

  "Well, never mind about that now. The shock has worn off," Geraldine said quite cheerfully. "Here you are, and here you'd better stay for the moment" Thea could hardly believe her ears. "But we'd better do something about teaching you to earn your own living. I suppose you have staee aspirations."

  Not in the least!" Thea exclaimed with a fervor that made both the others laugh.

  "Incredible, Lin. Here's a member of the female sex under twenty who doesn't want to be an actress," commented Geraldine. "And she's quite pretty, too."

  "She's lovely," Lindsay Varlon stated, flatly and coolly.

  Thea felt herself blush again, but Geraldine considered her impersonally.

  "I suppose she is, if one smartened her up and gave her a little poise," she agreed. "If she had her nair brushed up over her ears—so." Geraldine calmly swept her hand over

  the side of Thea 's hair, as though she were a wax model. *'And tidied up her eyebrows a bit and—*'

  "Generally spoiled her,'* Lindsay Varlon said rather disagreeably. "Leave her as she is. She'll find her own style. And anyway, she's given it as her opinion that her heart's not in the theater."

  "She needn't be a little dowdy, even then," Geraldine remarked complacently. "But still, it isn't her appearance that concerns us at the moment. It's her career."

  Thea smiled deprecatingly and managed to get a word in at last.

  "I wasn't thinking of anything so grand as a career until I've had a bit of experience," she said. "I haven't any specially glowing talents that I know of, so wouldn't it be best for me to have some sort of office training?"

  "Do you mean—" Geraldine opened her eyes wide "—be a shorthand-typist or a private secretary or something?"

  "I wouldn t step straight into a private secretaryship," Thea pointed out reasonably.

  "But do you want to go into an office?" " "I don't mind. And at least it would start me earning my living in the shortest space of time."

  "I d rather go to prison, myself," Geraldine said positively.

  "You haven't had sufficient experience of either to know," Lindsay Varlon murmured.

  "But wouldn't you rather be a mannequin or even in the chorus or something alive?" Geraldine asked Thea curiously.

  Thea laughed and shook her head.

  "Can't you see the child has no natural hunger for the footlights?" Varlon said amusedly. "I believe you think there are only two kinds of people, Geraldine. Those who have got where you are, and those who have failed to do so and are miserable in consequence."

  Geraldine didn 't even smile.

  "Well, if she wants this strange and dreary life, I suppose she can have it," was what she said at last. "Perhaps you'll be able to get a position in one of the theater offices," she added, as though that at least might be some pale consolation.

  "Perhaps,''Thea agreed equably.

  "I daresay there are strings that could be pulled if you really want that,'* Varlon said, with the air of careless good nature that became him so admirably—as no doubt he was well aware, thought Thea, unjustly, as it happened.

  **I don't think I'd want to have strings pulled for me," she stated firmly. "I'd rather just sink or swim on my own merits."

  ''That's a nice slap in the face for you, Lin," commented Geraldine with enjoyment.

  "Oh! I didn't mean it that way." Thea was slightly distressed.

  "No?" He looked amused. "I can bear it."

  "And where do you propose to learn the necessary Qualifications for burying yourself in a stuffy office?" Geraf-oine inauired with energy.

  "Well, if a few days delay wouldn't matter—" Thea glanced a little timidly at her cousin, but received a careless nod of acquiescence "—I could write to my headmistress and ask her advice. She would be sure to know which were the best business schools in London."

  "Isn't this a funny atmosphere for us, Lin?" Geraldine said reflectively. "Headmistresses and eood little girls earning an honest penny at a typewriter and that sort of thing."

  "I feel I can adapt myself to it perfectly," Varlon asserted calmly. "You had oetter write to your headmistress, as you suggest, Thea," he added, a httle, Thea couldn't help thmking, as though it were for him to make the decisions, whereas, of course, it was no longer his business at all.

  "Yes, I will," Thea promised. "And meanwhile, am I—" again she glanced doubtfully at her cousin "—am I really to stay here? ^'

  "Oh, yes." It was difficult to remember that only the evening oefore Geraldine had been positively spitting angry protests at the very idea of such a course. "No one will Be using my guest room for a while and Denham declares you're no trouble." (God bless Denham! thought Thea fervently.) "You'd better have as good a time as you can before you press your nose to the particular grindstone you've chosen. Have you got any decent clothes?'

  "Not," Thea said without offence, "anything that I imagine you would class as 'decent clothes.' "

  Geraldine laughed, rather pleased than annoyed, Thea

  saw. She began to realize that her beautiful cousin was one of those people who are not at all averse to qualified acts of generosity as long as those acts minister to a sense of power in the performer. And she was not greatly surprised when GeraMine said, "I daresay I can find you a few things. We *re more or less of a height.'' '

  "It's very kind of you," Thea said, and she meant it, for at least this was the only type of kindness of which Geral-dine was capable. But at that moment Thea caught a sardonic gleam in Varlon's eyes, and she thought he was not unaware of the motives that prompted Geraldine's offer.

  "Would you like to come and see the show tonight?" That was Varlon, and he said it with an air that suggested he would not be at all offended if she flatly said no.

  "I'd love to,"Thea assured him.

  "Very well. You shall have a ticket."

  "And she'd better come on to Nan Pelferey's party afterward," Geraldine remarked.

  But this suggestion didn't appear to meet with Varlon's approval.

  "Nan's party? Oh, no. I don't think that's in her line."

  They both, Thea couldn't help thinking, had a habit of discussing her as though she were not there. It made her feel faintly uncomfortable, but at the same time excited her curiosity.

  " Why wouldn 't it be in my line?'' she wanted to know.

  "Eh?" Varlon glanced at her and frowned, looking rather as he had when she had accused him of being inconsistent in coming to the station to rescue her although he claimed to be hardheaded. "Oh, she's not your sort at all."

  "But you don't know what my sort is," Thea suggested gently.

  "Certainly I know what your sort is." He looked
amused again. "And it doesn't mix with Nan Pelferey's sort. You can't go to the party." *

  Thea gasped slightly.

  "What did you say?"

  " I said you can't go to the party.''

  "But you really haven't any authority over me, have you?

  Tm really nothing whatever to do with you,** Thea stated firmly.

  "Aren*t you?** He smiled a little at that, and she suddenly wished he didn*t have such a nice smile. It made it difficult to put him in his place and keep him there. "Well, will you take it from me that you would not enjoy this party, and you had much better come home after the theater?**

  "Don't be silly, Lin. Nan may have been a bit shop soiled a year or two ago. But she's been beautifully dry-cleaned by the most expensive matrimonial process," protested Geraf-dine amusedly. "Really, darling, you have hidden depths that I never susp>ected. As a guardian of innocent youth— and feminine youth, at that—you must find yourself in a very singular role.**

  "Very singular,** he agreed dryly, without looking at her. "Is it settled, Thea?**

  "Why ... why, yes. I suppose it is, if you put it like that," Thea said slowly. "But Tm not really the sort of silly young innocent who needs to be kept in special layers of absorbent cotton, you know.**

  "No,** Varlon said. "I didn't suppose you were.**

  But he made no move to amplify that, and Geraldine said, "Well, that*s settled, and now Tm going to Jarvain. Tve promised him a fitting for the last ten days, and he*s more temperamental than I am if he*s crossed. Do what you hke with yourself this morning, Thea, only don*t bother me. Sometime this afternoon 1*11 find you something to wear tonight. I hardly ever lunch in, but I daresay Denham will throw together something of a snack if you don't lunch out. And now, Lin, I hope you feel you*ve seen fair play. And goodbye both of you. *'

  Varlon laughed and said, "Such a demonstration of fair play that I feel it was worth getting up early to witness it. Goodbye, Thea. Your ticket will be at the box office. The theater is the Crescent—but you know that, don*t you, because you sent your letter there. **

  And with a friendly little movement of his hand, but no attempt to take hers, he, too, went off, and Thea was left to write ner letter to her headmistress, feeling that she had seen whole slices of life since last she had talked with that lady.

  While she was writing her letter, she heard Geraldine go

  out of the apartment on her way to her temperamental dressmaker, and, once her letter was finished and she felt there was nothing further to do about her own affairs at the moment, Thea, too, decided to go out and see something of the city in which she was now to live.

  It was a cool, bright day with something exhilarating in the atmosphere—at least, to one of Thea s temperament. And since Geraldine's apartment was in one or the most fashionable parts of the West End, she had no need to walk more than a few hundred yards before she had plenty to interest her and engage her attention.

  In her wanderings she came upon the Crescent Theater and paused to examine, with great interest, the photographs of the actors and actresses hung up outside the tneater.

  Geraldine certainly looked very attractive! Much more so than when she was indulging in a **scene" at home, Thea reflected judicially. Thougn perhaps it was unkind of one to remember that against her in view of her handsome recovery.

  Two or three other people were examining the photographs, too, and Thea was amused to hear one girl say, "Hasn't she got a sweet face?'*Sweet was not quite the most appropriate adjective to apply, to Geraldine, in any circumstances.

  "Yes," the girl's companion agreed. "They say he's mad about her."

  With interest, Thea glanced from the speaker to the photograph that had prompted this disclosure. It was one that she herself had not noticed up to now, and was quite unmistakably of Lindsay Varlon.

  On an impulse of quite unreasonable annoyance, Thea very nearly exclaimed "Nonsense!" but fortunately restrained herself just in time.

  "Lucky her!" sighed the first girl, happily unconscious of the rather inimical glance that Thea gave her. "Isn't he marvelous?"

  "He is," her companion agreed with fervor. "I've seen this production three times iust to watch him come on the stage at the end and take his bow."

  They both drifted off then on a wave of romantic enthusiasm, and Thea looked after them, divided between amusement and surprise. Did Lindsay Varlon really affect people

  like that? Even allowing for a certain amount of romantic exaggeration, it seemed that he was an object of great interest and attraction in the theater world.

  / wonder if there is anything between him and Geraldine? she thought as she made her way rather slowly back to her cousin's apartment. And she found, for no special reason, that she disliked the idea intensely. // didn't took like it, she reminded herself. At least, it didn't look like it most of the time. He did kiss her, of course—but it wasn't much of a kiss. Even Thea knew that. Anyway, I think he's much too nice for her, whatever his reputation is supposed to be.

  When she reached home, Geraldine—still apparently in her mood of unpredictable generosity—called Thea to her room.

  *'You*d better come in and see about something for tonight,'* she said. "Then if anything needs altering there will still be time for Denham to do it.'

  *Tf anything needs altering, I expect I can do it myself,'* Thea hastily amended. 'T really am quite handy at making things, andi I'm sure Denham has plenty to do without taking on odd jobs for me.''

  "Oh, Denham does all right," Geraldine declared carelessly, as she slid back the polished door of a big built-in wardrobe and displayed to the dazzled Thea a bewildering selection of dresses, suits, coats, evening coats and wraps.

  "Oh, how wonderful!" gasped Thea.

  "It's quite a nice collection, isn't it?" agreed Geraldine with a pleased laugh. And Thea realized that nothing could have been more tactful than her involuntary gasp of admiration.

  "What do you want?" Geraldine inquired, sweeping her hand carelessly over half a dozen evening dresses. "White for girlish innocence, or blue for your eyes—or what?"

  "Oh, you choose, Geraldine," Thea said hastily, realizing perfectly well that she was not really expected to express a preference, but simply to accept gratefully whatever Geraldine finally decided she could Dear to relinquish.

  "This might do. It's always been a bit too fluffy for me." Geraldine extracted a hanger from the long chromium rod, and shook out the folds of a golden yellow tulle picture dress. "You'd better try it on."

  Trembling with excitement, Thea slipped off her outfit,

  whereupon Geraldine surveyed her and remarked, "Fortunately I can let you have underclothes too. Those are a bit utilitarian, aren't they?"

  "We weren't allowed anything very frivolous at school,'* Thea explained, as Geraldine dropped the dress over her head with a practiced gesture that left almost every hair still in place.

  "Hm ... very nice." Geraldine stood back and regarded her. "The waist could do with a little pulling in. But if you ask Denham she can probably supply you with some sort of sash or belt from her oddment box. How do you like it yourself?"

  Thea turned to look at herself in the glass.

  "Oh," she said, but on a note that made Geraldine laugh.

  "It will do then?"

  "Oh, Geraldine, it's heavenly. Will you really lend it to me?"

  "You can keep it." Geraldine obviously quite enjoyed the moment. "And I'll lend you this white fur jacket to go with it. But that's only on loan, mind!''

  "Of course."

  "Oh—and then underclothes." Geraldine went over to a tall chest of drawers. And then quite suddenly she seemed to grow sick of the whole whim. "Oh, ask Denham about undies and shoes and things. I can't be bothered with the rest of it now," she exclaimed impatiently, and waved Thea away out of the room so peremptorily that there was hardly time even to express her thanks.

  A little timidly Thea went in search of Denham and explained the position to her.

  ^'Tha
t's all right, miss. I'll see to it," Denham told her with reassuring stolidity. "You want a bit of blue velvet for the waistline, with your eyes that color. It's a pretty dress for you with your fair hair—and young, too. Miss Marven usually has them more sophisticated. What size shoes do you take?"

  "Five," Thea said anxiously, hoping the whole scheme was not going to be wrecked on a pair of shoes.

  "So does Miss Marven. But she prefers them called four-and-a-half Don't forget that," Denham said. And Thea promised earnestly that she would not.

  During the rest of the afternoon she kept to her own room

  most of the time in case her presence should annoy Geral-dine now that the generous mood was past. But the two cousins had an early dinner together before Geraldine went to the theater.

  Since she was going on to a party after the performance, Geraldine was in evening dress when she left and, catching a glimpse of her as she passed through the apartment to the front door, Thea decided she knew exactly what Denham had meant by saying that *'Miss Marven usually had her dresses sophisticated."

  Her slim, backless, shell-pink dress was in perfect taste and most beautifully designed. But no stranger would dare to speak to her in it, thought Thea, and her best friend wouldn 't dare to hug her.

  When Geraldine had gone, Denham seemed perfectly willing to give all her time and attention to helping Thea make ready for the great occasion.

  Underclothes that were just handfuls of yellow georgette and lace, as far as Thea could see, were produced, and so were sheer silk stockings and a delightful pair of yellow satin shoes with heels that inspired Thea with mingled pleasure and alarm. She found, however, that they were easier to wear than she had dared to suppose.

  When she was ready, with the white lur jacket slipped on over her )^ellow dress, Denham said kindly, "You look a picture, miss."

  *'Oh, thank you, Denham." Thea blushed with pleasure. "And thank you for all your trouble. I do look nice, I think. Anyone would, in this dress.'*