The girl in the blue dress

by Mary Burchell

  CHAPTER THREE

  "WHATEVER made me think she was listless or indifferent?" was Beverley's first reflection, as she looked back at the lovely, flushed and quivering features of the eldest Wayne girl. And then "What on earth am I going to say to her?" It seemed to her that there was at least a whole minute's silence between them. But of course there was nothing of the sort. A minute is a long time, measured out in embarrassed seconds. And there is no sharper inducement to break a silence than the knowledge that someone's self-respect is toppling. In what seemed to her a somewhat artificial tone, Beverley heard herself say. "Why, how extraordinary to meet you twice in one day' I suppose you have been to see my friend, Geoffrey Revian, about your portrait?" "My portrait?" stammered Sara. And then she too made an immense effort to recover herself. "Oh no. That's finished, you know, and hanging in Franklin's study. I came " She groped for words, and Beverley actually found herself wishing pitifully that she could supply her with a good excuse. Then Sara rallied herself determinedly and said, almost calmly, "I came to talk over the possibility of Geoffrey's of Mr. Revian's doing a smaller copy for for my parents. But, if he does, it will be a secret until it's finished. So so please don't mention it to my mother." "No, of course not," Beverley promised gravely. "What a good idea." The other girl gave her a searching little glance, as though she might be wondering if there were a second, ironical meaning to that remark. But Beverley contrived to look guileless and friendly, and she thought she heard Sara draw a quick breath of relief. "I must go and catch my bus now. I thought 41 I was late " Sara glanced at her watch. "That was why I was running." "It's all right. It doesn't go until the half-hour, Beverley assured her, with every evidence of believing her completely. "May I walk back to the bus-stop with you?" For she felt she simply could not go straight in and face Geoffrey yet, with this scene so rawly fresh in her mind". "Why, yes do." Sara, she saw, hardly knew whether to be relieved at the naturalness of this or distressed by the necessity of continuing to keep up appearances. Beverley turned, and together the girls went back up the garden path. "I missed my own bus this afternoon," Beverley said, by way of innocent conversation. "It's a maddening experience. I can imagine how anxious you were not to do the same." "Did you? I'm so sorry. Why didn't you come back to the house? You must have been ages at the bus-stop waiting for the next bus. In fact " Sara glanced at her companion quickly, as though any unexplained circumstance caused her alarm "you ought to have been on the bus I took, then, surely?" "No. I got a lift instead," Beverley explained. "I had just seen the bus drive off when a car stopped and I was offered a lift. The driver turned out to be Mr. Lowell." "Franklin?" Sara looked surprised and, again, vaguely alarmed. "Do you know him, then?" "Oh, no. At least, I didn't then. I thought I recognized him from the photograph in the drawingroom which your younger sister showed me. And when I explained I had been to the Grange to arrange to do dressmaking for you all, he told me that he was engaged to you." "Oh I see." Sara still spoke a little hesitantly, as though she were hastily examining the circumstances and finding them fairly reassuring. "Did he drive you all the way here?" "Yes. It was wonderful luck for me. I got home much earlier than if I had come all round by the bus." "I'm glad." Sara sounded genuinely so. But her tone changed again, as she said, with a not very convincingly casual air, "Where was he going, then? Surely not here?" "I have no idea." Beverley managed to sound cheerfully matter-of-fact. "He said something about going to Steeplemere. He stopped in Binwick only long . enough to drop me at my house." "I see." said Sara again. And this time there was no mistaking the relief in her voice. They had reached the bus-stop by now, and Beverley stood there for a few minutes longer, in friendly conversation. Then the bus came up, and the girls said a pleasant goodbye to each other. Sara even smiled and waved through the window as the bus' moved off. And Beverley had the impression that she was a good deal reassured, and fairly well satisfied that she had. not given herself away too badly. After all, why should she feel otherwise? She was unaware how completely Toni had set Beverley on the right track. The question now, though Beverley, was what did she intend to do next? Should she assume that she had found out all it was necessary for her to know, and just go home? She could always say to her mother that there had been no answer to her knock when she had called at Geoffrey's cottage. Or should she go and see Geoffrey, after all? Although one part of her shrank from any interview with him, now that this unacknowledged barrier cut across their once happy relationship, a painful, restless curios y also urged her to go. She must know how he looked when she told him of her unexpected connection with the Waynes. She must see for herself if there were anything in his manner which could possibly yve a clue to his attitude towards Sara. After all, she might think she knew about Sara's feelings. But how was she even to guess at Geoffrey's 43 until she had seen his reactions to the mention of Sara's name? . ' -With a curious mixture .of distaste and eagerness, -, she retraced her steps to the cottage, and went round once more by the garden path to the studio. . When she knocked, his absorbed voice bade her, . "Corn" in " And, suppressing a tremor of unfamiliar. nervousness, she entered, trying to look exactly as she would have looked if she knew nothing at all of this new complication, and had merely come down to the studio to give him her own exciting news. "Hello___" He glanced up from his easel, and save her the faintly absent smile with which he often greeted her when he was busy. "I thought you might look in this evening." "Did you?" She drew near and looked at the beautiful flower study which appeared to absorb his attention. "Isn't it getting a bit dark for working?" "Yes The best of the light is fading. But I'm not putting more than a touch to this." She had the odd impression that he had not been doing anything to it at all until her knock sounded. "What's the news? Any answers from the advertisement yet?" "Yes." She forced a bright, pleased smile to her lips. "I had a very interesting reply this morning, and went for an interview this afternoon. It's all arranged. If I give satisfaction, I think I'll have a lot of nice work, for two or three months to come." "You don't say!" He smiled at her with real interest. "All for one client?" "Yes. At least all for one family." "Well, that's fine. Who are they?" "The Waynes. Of Huntingford Grange." She was aware that the hand which held his brush remained suspended for a second. Then he said, . "How odd! I know them quite well. I painted a portrait of the eldest girl early this year. You must have seen it. Oh, no, it was just before you came back from London, I guess." "Yes, it must have been." Her calmness matched. his, she thought, and he cou.ld have no idea how dreadfully her heart was sinking. "I heard about the portrait." "From whom?" He gave her a quick glance, and she saw that his attractive dark eyes which she had always thought before were so open and candid were slightly narrowed. - "Oddly enough, from her fiance, Franklin Lowell. He gave me a lift back home in his car, and he mentioned your work." "Did he?" said Geoffrey flatly. "Yes. And he told me that it was he who bought that first picture of yours, Geoffrey. The the portrait of me in the blue and white frock." "Yes. That's right." He sounded depressingly without interest in that. "You never told me." "No? I don't know that there was any reason why I should. He was only a name. And not a name that I specially wanted to talk about." "Why not? Don't you like him?" "No," said Geoffrey without elaboration. She must have looked rather grave possibly even a little disapproving for after a moment he said with a smile, "Why? Should I?" "N-no. There's no reason why you should, of course. Except that he appreciates your work. And I thought he was quite a nice fellow myself." The moment she had used the words she realized they in no way described Franklin Lowell. He was not "quite" or "rather" anything. There was nothing qualified or moderate about him. She supposed one would always either like him very much or dislike him intensely. Geoffrey seemed disinclined to continue the subject of Franklin Lowell, And after a short pause she said, "I met all three of the Wayne girls. I thought them .charming." "Yes? Sara is the only one I know really well." He said that with amazing coolness. "Although I have met all the family at various times." "She's lovely, isn't she?" 45 "Yes. She wa
s fun to paint." Perhaps if she had not had the key to the-situation Beverley might not have guessed, even then, that he was dissembling. But, knowing what she did, she was keenly aware that he was being too casual too'. objective about Sara Wayne. And suddenly it became unbearable to her that Geoffrey and she should be telling each other less than the truth. There had always been or so she had supposed the happiest, most open relationship between them. That there should now be reservations even a degree of deception was so dreadful that she felt the tears come into her eyes, and she turned away and pretended to be examining some other picture on the other side of the studio. ,She had no wish to prolong this scene. Indeed, she almost had the impulse to rush from the place. And, as soon as she had recovered herself sufficiently to trust her voice, she said,"I mustn't 'stay, Geoffrey. I have to make quite an early start in the morning. But I just wanted to come down and tell you my news.""I'm glad you did." He did not try to detain her, she noticed. "You should be quite happy working at the Grange. And " -he paused, and she thought the faintest note of bitterness crept into his voice "with a wedding in the offing, you'll have plenty of work." . ,"That's what I thought," Beverley said. Then she bade him a hasty goodnight and fled. All the way up the village street she had difficulty in restraining her tears. But she resolutely kept a cheerful, normal appearance. For there was no saying- whom she might meet, or who might be gazing abstractedly from their front windows, to see how the world was faring. She got past with no need for more than a couple of goodnights,, called out to neighbours on the other side of the road, and by the time she reached home she v as in full control of herself once more.During the rest of the evening she contrived to be 46 her usual good-humoured self to her mother and her aunt, and it surprised neither of them that she chose to go to bed rather early. "You want-to be nice and fresh for your first day tomorrow, dear," her mother said. While Aunt Ellen remarked what a dreadful thing it would be if she missed her bus and was late the very first morning. Alone in her own room at last, Beverley faced the future, in its new and disquieting terms. And, although the impulse to shed tears had now passed, she felt dreadfully unhappy. It was useless to tell herself that, in practical fact, Sara Wayne was engaged to someone other than Geoffrey indeed, to someone who would not be at all the kind to have any nonsense from a vacillating fiancee. The one inescapable conclusion which had come to her out of the muddled impressions of the day was that she herself was no longer the girl in Geoffrey's life. The next morning, in spite of Aunt Ellen's anxious expectations to the contrary, Beverley caught her bus in good time, and was walking up the lane to Huntingford Grange, in the bright June sunshine, soon after half-past nine. It was impossible not to feel cheered and even elated by the beauty of the morning. And, after being kindly received and comfortably installed in her workroom, Beverley felt bound to admit to herself that the world still had some bright spots in it. She even dared to hope that, in some as yet unexplained way, everything would somehow turn out as she wished it would. She had been ready to start immediately on a couple of informal day dresses for Sara. But it appeared that the morning's post had brought an invitation which called for some rearrangement of work. "Old Lady Welman is organizing a charity dance for All Saints Hospital," Mrs. Wayne explained. "I think, myself, that she has left herself much too little time," she added, consulting the letter in her hand, "but that's up to her. It is on the last day of the month, and she wants both the older girls to go, of 47 course. Do you think we can manage dresses for both of them in the time?" "Oh, yes, certainly." Beverley was confident of that. "Unless they want something extremely elaborate." "No. Just something elegant and summery and suitable to a fairly big country-house dance. I don't think either of them has anything left over from the winter dance season which would quite fill the bill." Sara and Madeleine came in just then and joined the discussion. And this time, Beverley noticed, Sara showed a good deal more interest in what she was to wear. In fact, she was quite firm about her choice of material, among the wealth that was available. And Beverley had to agree that nothing could have been more becoming than the exquisitely flower-patterned chiffon which she chose. "There must be a dozen yards of it or more " she tossed the lovely, feather-light silk upon the big table "and I want it .with a very simply draped bodice and an enormous skirt and taffeta underneath, of course, to give it body." Beverley promised that it should be exactly as Sara wanted it, and then she turned to Madeleine. The. younger girl had more sophisticated taste, but she knew exactly what suited her, and Beverley saw that she was going to be exceptionally easy to work for. During the afternoon Toni came up to talk and enquire. She mourned once more about having nothing to wear at Wendy Tulley's birthday party. But when she learned that Beverley would probably be able to manage something for her, as well as for the older girls, she became extremely cheerful. Indeed, so different was she from the worried little girl who had confided her cares to Beverley the pre vious day that Beverley once more found her spirits swinging to the other extreme, and her hopes rising to a point from which it seemed quite credible that Toni's confidences of the day before might, after all, be largely romancing. And, that being so, was it not possible that she herself had exaggerated and misin

  48 terpreted her impressions of Sara and Geoffrey the previous evening? She could not entirely reassure herself upon this latter point. But she did feel considerably less depressed on the general subject of Geoffrey and her connection with him. From time to time, one or other of the Waynes would come in either to see how she was getting on or, Beverley was rather touched to realize, merely to see that she was not lonely. I "I suppose you really like your work very much," Madeleine said to her. "You wouldn't have chosen to do anything so individual otherwise." "I love it," Beverley replied frankly. "I wouldn't do anything else for the world." "No?" Madeleine laughed, a half-amused, half- discontented laugh. "It must be fun to have a job and be independent of everyone." "Well yes." Beverley was astonished at what seemed to her a singularly naive and early-Victorian remark. For surely anyone who wanted to have a job could do so nowadays. And, after a moment, she added diffidently, "Do you mean that you would like to do the same?''' "Not dressmaking. I wouldn't be any good at that." "No I didn't mean dressmaking particularly. I meant anything. Whatever you feel you have a talent for." "I have only one talent," Madeleine said. "I'd like to go on the stage." "Oh " Beverley looked doubtful. She thought this too a naive remark, because usually one passed through the phase of being stage-struck at a much earlier age. "It's a pretty hard life, even if you are talented, you know," she said diplomatically at last. "Yes, of course. But I don't think a hard life matters if you're doing the one thing you want, do you?" "In general no," Beverley admitted. "But, if you feel so strongly about it, why don't you get your parents to let you have an experimental year at a drama school? That at least would show if you had enough talent to go on, or if you must resign yourself to being no more than a clever amateur." Madeleine looked at her and laughed with real amusement. "It sounds so simple, put that way," she said, quite good-humouredly, but this time she sounded as though she thought Beverley naive. "My father simply wouldn't hear of it." By now, Beverley was finding the Waynes so. much like people in a book that she would not have been surprised to hear that Mr. Wayne considered the theatre a sink of iniquity and that any daughter of his who Went on the stage would be told not to darken his doorstep again. However, the truth turned out to be a little less dramatic than that. "I-suppose if we lived in London there wouldn't have been any marked opposition to our following out any experiment of the sort," Madeleine said. "But, as it is, if any of us left home, we should have to be maintained rather expensively wherever we chose to study. And, frankly " she shrugged and laughed "this isn't a family with very much money." "I see." Beverley felt faintly embarrassed, and hoped she had not sounded as though she were inviting confidences about the family's situation. However, Madeleine went on, quite candidly. "In addition. Father is the kind to think that pretty girls in fact, any sort of girls should want nothing
more than to marry what he would regard as the right sort of man." "It's quite an agreeable fate," Beverley said soberly. "Oh, yes I daresay." Again Madeleine shrugged. "But there are so many other things in the world, aren't there?" And she stretched her arms above her head, as though she were literally reaching for some delectable fate just out of her range. "I don't know. Yes, of course, I suppose there are," Beverley agreed. "It's difficult to discuss things from two such different points of view. I belong to 50 people who always had to accept the fact that everyone started to earn a living as soon as it was practically possible." -"My dear " Madeleine laughed again with the utmost good-humour "I come from people who ought to have realized that fact. You haven't met my father yet, have you?" Beverley said she had not. "He's a darling, of course," Madeleine said unexpectedly, "but the most unpractical creature on God's earth. You mustn't think I'm criticizing him. Only there are 'certain disadvantages to having a charming parent who belongs, in all essentials, to a past age " Beverley said tactfully that she supposed there must be. "Still " Madeleine was essentially cheerful and hopeful evidently "things have a way of working out all right in the end, haven't they? Once Sara is married to Franklin, and Andrew has found himself a niche in my uncle's firm, I daresay the parents will feel a bit more relaxed about Toni and me. I'm not saying much until my time comes. I don't know really," she added with some surprise, "why I've said so much to you." "Probably because I am outside the family circle," Beverley told her, "and look reasonably discreet." "Are you discreet?" enquired Madeleine curiously. "As the grave," said Beverley solemnly. "Though you were not to know that." And both girls laughed and exchanged a glance of instinctive and mutual liking. In the ensuing week, Beverley found that this first day at Huntingford Grange was a fairly good sample of those which were to follow. Mrs. Wayne was courteous and considerate, without being intimate. But the three girls particularly Madeleine and Toni were inclined to regard her very much as one of themselves, and to consider her an acquisition to the household. Toni went to school with a marked lack of enthusiasm each day in Castleton. She had been 51 enjoying a long half-term week-end when Beverley first met her, but now reverted to what she considered to be a brutal and exacting imposition on her free time. However, she usually returned in time to have a talk with Beverley in the late afternoon. She never again mentioned her sister's engagement, and on the one occasion that Beverley saw Franklin Lowell at the Grange, he seemed on very good terms with everyone. Indeed, the role of rich but unwanted suitor appeared anything but appropriate. Except that Beverley could not detect any signs of loving, uninhibited familiarity in Sara's manner to him. But then perhaps that was not her way. She seemed genuinely interested when her fiance claimed acquaintance with Beverley who had been passing through the hall just as he came in and said, "Did you know that Miss Farman was the model for that painting I have of the little girl in the blue and white dress?" "Why no." Sara turned wide, interested eyes on Beverley. "The early Geoffrey Revian, you mean?" "Yes." "Then you must have known Geoffrey a long time," was what she said to Beverley. "Since I was about twelve." Beverley contrived to make that sound casual and natural. "We've lived in the same village for years, you know." "Oh, yes. Of course." Sara smiled sweetly, but a little vaguely. And Beverley found herself wondering what was really going on in her mind and heart, behind that cool and slightly enigmatic exterior. "I have promised to take Miss Farman over to see the picture again, one of these days," Franklin Lowell remarked. "You will have to come too, Sara, and do the honours of the place." Sara. again smiled and said, "Yes of course." And then Beverley had to hurry to catch her bus, and the chance encounter was over. But seeing .the two together inevitably set her wondering once more what the real situation was. 52 And partly because this made her restless and un happy and partly because it was her usual habit to go in and see him fairly often she decided to look in and have a talk with Geoffrey again that . evening. It had been a warm day, but as she walked down the street to his cottage, a fresh evening breeze had sprung up, which seemed to lighten the slight depression which had settled on her since she had seen Sara and Franklin Lowell together. Geoffrey was in the garden when she arrived there, lounging comfortably in a deck-chair. And although he had a sketching block on his knee and a pencil in his hand, it was obvious that he was amusing him. self, rather than engaging in any serious or concentrated work'." "Hello, there." He gave her his quick, friendly smile, which always seemed to her to give such warmth to his dark eyes, and to make one feel that there was no one else m"the world he would rather see. "Come" and sit down and tell me your news. Will you have a drink?" "Only if it's lemonade or something cooling." Beverley subsided into the other deck-chair and relaxed happily. "I'll get you some lemonade." He got up. "Oh, don't bother " But he had already started towards the cottage, and, looking after the tall, well set-up figure in grey slacks and a blue shirt, she thought how pleasant it was to have Geoffrey perform ' even this small service for her. He returned almost immediately with her drink, and stood smiling down at her"while she -sipped it. "Have you been taking time off to make a new dress for yourself?" he asked. "That green is extra-i ordinarily becoming." "Is it?" She smiled and flushed. Though at one I time she would have taken Geoffrey's careless complements in her stride. "No, it's not new. I had it last I year. But it's the first time I've worn it here." S 53 "It's nice." He gave it his emphatic approval. "Like its wearer." And he ruffled her fair hair. It was a gesture he had used sometimes when she was much younger. But certainly since .she had come back from London he had not treated her with such easy-going, affectionate approval, and suddenly Beveriev felt her heart begin to beat heavily She looked quite calm, however, as she smiled and said, ."Thank you, kind sir. Don't you want to hear about my first days at Huntingford Grange?""Yes, of course. They aren't working you too hard, I hope.""Oh, no. Though we started with a bit of a rush, because both the older girls 'Madeleine and Sara_" she got the name out with a hardly perceptible pause "are going to a big charity dance at the end of the month, and they want new dresses." "Lady Welman's affair, I suppose?" "Why,, yes." She looked surprised. "How did you know?""I do hear of some of the social highlights of the local season," he as.sured her, with a grin. "Besides I rather thought of going.","0t going, Geoffrey?" She was astounded, for she had never known him bother about any such thing."Yes. And of taking you too," he added. "Of taking me? Are you crazy, Geoffrey? What's come over you?""Nothing. What's crazy about wanting to go to a dance and take one's nicest girl friend with one?" She was dumb for a moment. Partly at this description of her, partly with astonishment at this sudden and totally unexpected interest in social affairs. "Wouldn't you like to come?" he pressed her. "In a way yes. Immensely! But " she bit herlip doubtfully "it's a little 'awkward, with the Wayne girls going.""Why should it be? Anyone who likes to buy a ticket in aid of All Saints can go." 54 "Yes, of course. But though they are terribly friendly and nice to me while I'm there I'm really just the girl who makes then- dresses," Beverley said a little anxiously. "Don't be an inverted snob," Geoffrey retorted. "I'm just the chap that painted Sara Wayne's portrait, come to that." Beverley laughed. "That's quite different," she said. "I wouldn't like them to think that I was trying to - to worm my way into the same social life as they have, just because I've come to know them as clients." "They wouldn't be so stupid as to think anything of the sort. You will be there as my partner." "But they might think at least, Mrs. Wayne might think that I had persuaded you to take me, so that I could push my way into what is much more their circle than mine." "Don't you believe it!" Geoffrey laughed, and suddenly he put out his hand and drew her to her feet, so that she was close against him for a moment. "They will understand exactly why you are there with me, my dear little goose. Because you are going to get engaged to me beforehand, and go with me as my fiancee," he told her. 55