A Star Looks Down

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by Betty Neels


  greeted her placidly, observed that they should have a splendid ride

  145 on such a fine morning, and led the way to the stables.

  As indeed they did; there was very little traffic on the roads, only

  the postman and the milkman and the awkward, slow-moving farm

  vehicles.

  They took to the bridle path presently, which would bring them round to

  the other side of the village, not hurrying, but ambling along side by

  side when there was room, talking idly about nothing in particular.

  Presently the profess or asked: "There was no opportunity to ask you

  yesterday evening-how are Sugar and Beauty?

  ' "In splendid shape--you have no idea how different they look already,

  and the children are splendid with them--Dirk has been on Beauty and

  goes very well.

  Marineka was a little timid at first, but she's over that now.

  Hubert and Alberdina only ride Sugar, of course; I think he enjoys it

  as much as they do.

  ' "That's splendid.

  I found your stepbrother a very unpleasant man, if you will forgive me

  for saying so.

  ' "He is.

  It was lovely to watch you flatten him.

  ' "My dear girl, was it so obvious?

  ' He turned to grin at her.

  "I thought I was being very civil.

  ' "Oh, you were, but you have a very arrogant manner sometimes.

  ' "Not with you, I hope?

  ' She considered his question.

  "No--you have always been very kind.

  ' "Lord, what a quenching remark!

  Besides, I can be very unpleasant too--I have a vile temper.

  ' She looked at him with interest.

  "I was wondering that.

  .

  .

  but you control it, don't you?

  I think you're very nice," she told him simply.

  He had gone ahead of her, for the path was narrow and she had only a

  brief glimpse of his face as he glanced over his shoulder.

  "Thank you, little Partridge," was all he said.

  She put the children through their paces after breakfast with their

  mother and uncle as an audience, who, when necessary, gave a helping

  hand.

  And they did very well, although Dirk was unusually quiet, and when

  Beth spoke to him, although he answered her politely enough, she was

  aware of enmity behind the politeness.

  She was at a loss to know why; she was almost sure that the profess or

  hadn't punished him for his escapade at the Cheddar Gorge and she had

  never mentioned it.

  But children could be moody, she consoled herself, probably everything

  would be all right again in a very short time.

  Only it wasn't; Saturday passed and Sunday came with all of them going

  to church and then, after lunch, having one more ride, and still Dirk

  maintained his strange behaviour towards her, and when she wished them

  all good-bye at bedtime with the promise that they would all meet again

  in London in two days' time, he accepted the news with such a lack of

  enthusiasm that she felt quite dashed.

  It was fortunate that the other three were so pleased at the idea other

  coming with them to Holland that she couldn't help but cheer up,

  telling herself that everything would be fine again once Dirk had come

  out of the sulks.

  The profess or drove her back to London after dinner, wasting no time

  on the journey because, as he pointed out, he had a heavy list in the

  morning and in any case, it was necessary to get her to the flat at a

  reasonable hour.

  "There's no need for you to go to St Elmer's," he told her.

  "T've arranged everything, I believe.

  I finish tomorrow afternoon and shall return to Caundle Bubb during the

  evening.

  We will pick you up on Tuesday afternoon-half past one at your flat.

  You will be ready?

  ' How businesslike he was!

  "Oh, yes, thank you," she assured him.

  "Which way shall we go?

  ' "Hovercraft from Dover to Ca lais and drive up into Holland from

  there.

  Three hours' journey roughly--we should be in Willemstad in good time

  to get the children to their beds.

  ' He glanced at her briefly.

  "It's good of you to come, Elizabeth.

  I've heard from my broth erin-law; he hopes to return earlier than he

  had expected and I shall be able to relinquish Mar tina and the brats

  to his care once more.

  She's a good mother but not very practical-I daresay you've noticed.

  ' "Yes, but being a good mother is much more important than being

  practical; besides, she doesn't have to be, does she?

  It doesn't really matter.

  .

  .

  ' He finished for her: "Because there's always someone to see to things

  for her.

  You're quite right, of course.

  ' They talked nothings after that, until he drew up outside the flat,

  and when Beth would have thanked him and got out, he told her to stay

  where she was, and got out himself and saw to her luggage and only then

  opened her door.

  They went up the stairs together, and after the spacious beauty of

  Caundle Bubb, it seemed like prison.

  As he put the key in the lock, she wondered what sort of mess the flat

  would be in with only William and Dobson to look after it.

  It was clean enough, she saw that at a glance, but it looked bleak and

  unlived-in.

  There were, naturally, no flowers, and the crockery, though washed, had

  been piled on the table ready for the next meal.

  She turned away from this depressing picture and asked diffidently:

  "Would you like a cup of coffee?

  ' He went past her into the kitchen and looked in the fridge, then

  coolly opened the cupboard and looked in that too.

  His face bore a look of surprised horror, but all he said was: "Dear

  girl, I had no idea; I am so used to Mrs Silver or Mrs Burge or Ria

  waiting with a meal to serve the moment I get home; evidently William

  eats out or at the hospital.

  I told him that you would be back this evening, but he must have

  forgotten.

  ' He swung her gently round and caught her by the arm.

  "Come on, we're going to my house to have a meal.

  ' There was nothing she would like better; she was hungry and

  depressed, the idea of sitting alone in this neglected little room,

  drinking tea with no milk in it, almost moved her to tears.

  All the same, she said: "Thank you, but there is no need--you must have

  a great deal to do--besides, we had dinner before we left.

  ' He opened his eyes wide.

  "But that was hours ago.

  ' He smiled at her and she found herself smiling back and he said:

  "That's better--it's only half past ten, you know.

  Mrs Silver will feed us.

  ' It was pleasant to be overruled; Beth allowed herself to be led down

  the dreary staircase again and out to the car.

  Only when they were seated side by side once more did she venture: "But

  your list--does it start at eight?

  ' "Yes, dear girl, and if you're worrying about a good night's sleep so

  that I have a nice steady hand in the morning, don't; six hours is

  enough for me.

  ' He
gave her a long look, and said deliberately: "Don't fill your

  pretty head with nonsense of that sort.

  ' He had said

  "Don't worry your pretty head', she had heard him distinctly, and while

  common sense told her that it was a mere figure of speech, she wished

  that it had been more than that even while she urged herself not to be

  so stupid.

  The profess or was a dear; the nicest man she had ever met, but there

  was no use in getting sentimental about him.

  She ignored his remark and made a prosaic observation about the Sunday

  evening traffic.

  It was just as he had said; as he put the key in his door Mrs Silver

  came bustling into the hall with a cheerful: "There you are.

  Profess or," and when she saw Beth, 'and you've brought Miss Partridge

  with you, and a good thing too, for I've got the most delicious pate of

  cod's roe waiting for you--I'll bring it to the sitting-room and you

  can have it on the small table there--the pair of you will be lost in

  the dining-room.

  ' She beat a retreat and they caught the words 'hot buttered toast,"

  and 'good strong coffee' as she went back to her kitchen.

  The profess or caught Beth's eye and grinned disarmingly.

  "You see what I mean?

  I don't deserve it, but I have the most wonderful people to look after

  me.

  ' It was on the tip of her tongue to observe that probably he paid the

  wonderful people very high wages, too, for it was obvious to her after

  several weeks in his household that he was a wealthy man, although she

  was forced to admit that even without a penny to his name he would have

  been offered the same service.

  They went into the sitting-room together, where a small round table had

  been drawn up to a cheerful log fire and the profess or urged her

  gently into a chair beside it before going to a side table, elegantly

  burdened with decanters and glasses.

  "Sherry?

  ' he offered, and when she said yes, brought it to her and sat down

  close by, to engage her in undemanding conversation until Mrs Silver,

  standing back with a nod of satisfaction from the table, told them that

  their meal was ready.

  It was a delicious supper, but even if it had been beans on toast and

  Nescafe, she would have enjoyed it.

  The profess or, when he chose, could be an amusing companion and he had

  the gift of listening as well as talking; when she looked at the

  bracket clock above the Adam fireplace, she couldn't believe that it

  was getting on for midnight.

  "The time," she exclaimed, 'look at the time!

  ' Her companion remained calm.

  "Home in ten minutes, you'll be in bed soon after.

  ' "Yes, but you--I'm keeping you up, surely I can take a bus?

  ' "Don't you care for my driving?

  ' She chuckled.

  "Don't be absurd.

  Profess or--you're a very good driver and you know it.

  I never feel nervous with you.

  ' "I had noticed.

  There are girls, you know, who squeal and clutch one's arm at every

  corner--so trying.

  ' "I don't suppose you take them out a second time?

  ' Her voice was demure.

  "Thank you for my supper.

  Has Mrs Silver gone to bed?

  ' "I imagine so--if I had known that you wished for a chaperone, I

  would have asked her to stay up.

  Miss Partridge.

  ' He was laughing at her.

  "Don't be so silly--I only wanted to thank her for her lovely pate.

  ' He was standing close to her, but she didn't look at him.

  They didn't say much to each other on the way back to the flat; at the

  door he got out too and despite Beth's protest, went upstairs with her

  and saw her into her own flat, but he didn't go in with her this time,

  only advised her to go to bed at once and wished her a good night.

  She stood leaning against the door after he had gone, listening to his

  unhurried steps on the stairs, feeling suddenly tired and dispirited,

  before taking his advice, and without bothering to unpack, went to

  bed.

  There was a letter in the morning, typed, brief and businesslike.

  It accompanied a cheque for her two weeks at Caundle Bubb.

  She read it through several times, seeing not the cold typed words but

  the kind and considerate man behind them.

  He would be a perfect husband; she sat at the kitchen table while the

  kettle boiled and allowed herself the indulgence of daydreaming--a

  succession of slightly muddled thoughts, all vague, and brought to an

  abrupt end by the kettle's whistle.

  She drank her tea and sat down once more to do sums; any number of them

  on the back of a paper bag, lying handy.

  The cheque would pay for William's shoes and a suit besides, for she

  had spent very little of the first one, and as for herself, she would

  go shopping the very next morning.

  She tore round the flat, tidying it up, mopping and dusting and

  changing beds in a whirlwind of activity.

  By eleven o'clock the place looked like home again and she was in the

  kitchen, making bread.

  She had milk and eggs by now and there were several tins in the

  cupboard.

  She was trying to decide what to make from them when William came in,

  followed by the sheepish Dobson.

  Her brother's,

  "Hi, Beth," was hearteningly delighted, and his companion's, "Hullo,

  Beth," while only an echo of William's exuberance, was genuinely

  pleased.

  Probably with good cause, she thought, remembering William's efforts at

  cooking.

  She greeted them in sisterly tones, offering coffee and asked if they

  were staying to lunch.

  William looked surprised.

  "Well, of course--Profess or van Zeust told me you'd be back for a

  couple of days.

  ' He clapped a hand to his head.

  "Oh, lord, I meant to have brought some food!

  ' "I found some tins.

  ' Beth looked at Dobson.

  "You'll stay too?

  ' "I say, may I?

  You're sure you don't mind?

  I could easily.

  .

  ' She smiled at him very kindly.

  "There's plenty.

  You're on again this afternoon, I suppose?

  ' "Um--and then on call until tomorrow morning and back on duty until

  teatime, so you won't see us before you go.

  ' William sniffed.

  "Can I smell bread?

  ' "You can--you forgot to buy any.

  ' They went into the sitting room and had their coffee and she was

  brought up to date with all the latest hospital news.

  Only when they had come to an end of this did William ask: "And how

  were things with you, Bern?

  ' "Profess or van Zeust didn't tell you?

  ' she asked, and was given a shocked look.

  "Good lord, Beth, he's a profess or--one of the big boys--he doesn't

  discuss his private life with the likes of me.

  ' "Oh, well--I didn't know.

  Actually it's been great fun--he took me over to Chifney.

  ' She proceeded to tell them about the visit to Philip and Margaret.

  "And you should have seen their faces!

  ' she chortl
ed.

  "Profess or van Zeust just swept everything along the way he wanted it

  to go.

  You ought to see Sugar and Beauty now, they look marvellous.

  ' "Now aren't you glad I talked you into it, old girl?

  ' her brother wanted to know.

  "Any lolly yet, by the way?

  ' She rose to go into the kitchen.

  "Yes, I cashed the cheque this morning.

 

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