"I did not think so at the time, but now I am sure that you were."
He caught her hand and held it up, once more ring less and she looked up at
him, trying to read his face. Her splendid plan had gone sadly wrong. She
fought a desire to burst into tears, and bit her lip to stop its trembling.
He said very gently, "I imagine you had a very good reason."
She nodded, and he went on, ignoring the lip, "Well, I'm glad it was a tease,
because Karel has had a face as long as a fiddle."
He broke off as that young gentleman joined them and she stood beside them,
listening to the Professor dealing with the whole regrettable episode with a
masterly, light-hearted touch which gave her no blame, and turned the whole
thing into a joke. A less scrupulous girl might have derived satisfaction
from the look on Karel's face, but she did not even see it, for she was still
trying to understand the expression on Julius's face.
It was one o'clock before she went to bed; they had sat around the fire with
Dimphena and Franz, talking. The Professor had been friendly, slightly
withdrawn, and; she feared, totally unmoved by the new dress, despite his
polite remarks. She was just dropping off to sleep when it struck her
forcibly that her thoughts were in direct contradiction to her resolves.
It was cold when she left the house the next morning and made her way to the
garage. She was in the Mini and had just switched on the ignition when
Julius said out of the darkness: "Good morning, Miss Rodman, and a Happy
Christmas. Move over--if we are to risk life and limb on these appalling
lanes, I might as well be responsible for the damage."
She moved over without a word, her heart beating a rapid tattoo which she
felt sure he could hear. It seemed not; 'he got in beside her and shut the
door with the air of a man fitting himself into a too tight coat. It was a
good thing that she was a normal-sized girl; as it was, it would be
impossible for them to be any closer.
"You're quiet," he observed.
"Did I startle you?"
She lied in haste, "Not in the least," and held her breath when he went on,
"Then why are you so breathless?"
He spoke with the air of a man who expects an answer, and she answered
hurriedly, "Well, perhaps I was a little," and remembered to say good morning
and Happy Christmas in her turn.
"That's better." He didn't speak again, but eased the little car down the
drive and into the lane. They skidded several times on the way to the
village, but she was so happy to be with him that she hardly noticed.
The little church was full, its early morning chill scented with holly and
chrysanthemums; Georgina enjoyed the service and said so on the way home.
Her companion grunted an agreement and then made no further contribution to
the conversation. She became aware of this in mid-sentence, and asked:
"Would you rather I didn't talk? Does it make you nervous?" and was taken
aback by the gust of laughter which shook him, and then affronted when he
said smoothly:
"Not at all--I enjoy your chatter." Which remark most effectively put a stop
to her uttering another word.
He brought the Mini to a halt before the door and got out to go round to help
her over the snow. It was still very dark, but there were lights at some of
the windows of the rambling old house, and the clear frosty sky made the
stars seem very close. Georgina, her head thrown back, stood gazing upwards.
"I do like Christmas--it's a wonderful time."
She felt his hand tighten on her arm.
"Full of the Christmas spirit, I hope. Miss Rodman."
She brought her gaze down from the sky to the level of his face above hers.
"You mean loving and giving?" she asked, simply, like a child.
He said slowly, "Yes, that's what I mean--loving and giving." He loosened
his hold on her arm and added matter-of-factly," Look out for the steps,
they're slippery."
The day promised to be a wholly happy one. Contrary to custom, and as a
concession to Cor's legs, they all took their presents to open in his room.
It took a considerable time for everyone to examine their gifts, exclaim over
them and thank the givers. Eventually they went away to get ready for
church, except Georgina, who declared her intention of at least making Cor's
bed, if nothing else. She went around the room while he unwillingly washed
his hands and face, and collected the gay wrapping papers and ribbons with
which it was strewn. Her own presents she carried to her own room; they made
quite a large pile, for they had all given her something, from Beatrix's
lop-sided pincushion to the Professor's silver Valentine mirror, an exquisite
trifle which must have cost a pretty penny, although she had long ago come to
the conclusion that he didn't have to worry about pennies, nor, for that
matter, pounds either.
They ate their dinner in Cor's room. With almost no fuss at all, a table was
brought in, erected and laid and decorated with crackers, holly and paper
streamers, and Cor was left in happy contemplation of it while they went away
to dress. Georgina put on the green dress once more, and returned to Cor's
room to find the Professor already there, discussing the merits of the
bicycle he had given him. However, they abandoned this interesting topic as
soon as she joined them and Julius went to pour her a drink, leaving her by
Cor's bed, wondering why there were traces of tears on the little boy's
cheeks. But by the time they had eaten their turkey with all its delicious
trimmings, and sampled the Christmas pudding, and rounded all this off with
another glass of Damsel in Green, there was no sign of unhappiness in Cor's
face. She decided it was probably some small argument, which, naturally
enough, his guardian had won.
The cause of his tears was only made apparent to her at the end of the
evening. They were dispersing to their various rooms when the Professor
remarked casually that they would all be going to Holland within the next day
or so. Cor would, of course, have to stay behind, and naturally enough, she
was to stay with him.
Much later, in bed, she went over their brief conversation about it, if the
few words they exchanged could be so described. After a little while she
blew her nose with unnecessary vigour, reminded herself that it had been one
of the best Christmases she had ever known, and went determinedly to sleep,
with the tears she hadn't bothered to wipe away still wet on her cheeks.
CHAPTER EIGHT
georgina saw the Professor for only a brief moment before they went away; it
seemed even briefer by virtue of his manner, which was businesslike in the
extreme. She was told in a few crisp sentences about X-rays, Mr. Sawbridge's
expected visit and the radiographer, and finally, the physiotherapist. She
was also to expect a telephone call from Holland each evening between five
and six o'clock. In the event of an emergency she was to telephone him at
any time of the day or night--Stephens would give her the 'number.
He had sent for her during the quiet oasis of time between tea and dinner.
She had heard the car a little earlier
, and then his steps on the staircase,
but contrary to usual custom, he had passed Cor's door without entering, and
it was very nearly dinner time when Milly came to ask her to go down to the
study. Georgina, who had been playing cards with the two children, and in
the heat of the game had cast off her cap, ran downstairs, ramming it upon
her rather untidy hair, to arrive slightly out of breath before the
Professor. He was resplendent in white tie and tails and obviously on his
way to some social function, and equally obviously, in haste to be gone. She
listened carefully to what he had to say, then in a cool little voice which
disguised her unhappiness, assured him that she would take good care of
Comelis and carry out his instructions, and then added a rider to the effect
that she hoped that they would enjoy their holiday. Then she stood mute, for
she could think of nothing else to say, and nor, it seemed, could he, for
after a moment of staring at her, he wished her a civil goodbye in a rather
absentminded manner, as though his mind was already busy with other matters.
She went back upstairs slowly; in six weeks' time she would most probably be
back in hospital, and her stay at Dalmers Place would be a thing of the past.
She began, deliberately, to think about her future at St. Athel's.
The house was quiet when they had gone. Georgina, doing morning chores for
Cor, looked at his pale face and guessed at the disappointment behind his
deadpan expression. She decided against her usual afternoon walk, and
instead The Wind in the Willows until she was hoarse, then after tea sat down
at the piano. She hadn't realised that Cor's voice was so angelic--it soared
effortlessly in accompaniment and presently she joined him, to the pleasure
of them both. They might have gone on a good deal longer, but the ringing of
the telephone put a stop to it, for it was no hasty three minute call which
the Professor made, but a lengthy, comfortable chat. She pictured him,
sitting at ease in his Dutch home, while Cor chattered away happily in a
Dutch she couldn't hope to understand. She went to her room and busied
herself gathering together the materials for the making of the rag doll she
had promised Beatrix, and went back to Cor hoping that there might be a
message for her. There was not. She sat down by the fire and listened
patiently to Cor's excited account of the arrival in Holland.
"Beatrix was sick," he stated dramatically, 'and there's ice on the
pond--perhaps they'll skate. " The corners of his mouth turned down and she
made haste to ask, " A pond?
In your guardian's garden? I didn't know. Do tell. "
"It's big," he said importantly, 'and the garden's bigger than this one--but
the house is quite different---it's square and the windows are large. "
"Will you draw it for me?" she suggested, happy to find something that would
keep him cheerfully occupied until his supper time. He drew the exterior,
and much encouraged by her praise, a plan of the house. It looked rather
fine, she thought, if Cor's draughtsmanship was to be believed.
"Has it a name?" she wanted to know.
He nodded, "Bergenstijn." He made her repeat it after him until she had it
right, then described exactly where it was.
"Near the Queen's palace, George dear, and there are a lot of a trees round
it, and little green fields, and if you go up a narrow road at the side you
come to Queen Beatrix's house, though we never do, of course." He chattered
on until his supper arrived and she went to her own lonely meal. It was
while she was tucking him up for the night that he said:
"Cousin Julius didn't like leaving me behind, but he explained that my aunts
and uncles and cousins who go to Bergenstijn each New Year might be
disappointed if they didn't go as usual, and they wanted to see Dimphena and
Franz and Beatrix, even if they couldn't see me. He said it wouldn't be kind
or polite, but he asked my advice about it, and if I didn't want them to go,
he could always telephone and say they wouldn't be able to manage it.. of
course I said I didn't mind staying a bit if you were here too." He puffed
out his chest and said with childish dignity, "Julius said I was a chip off
the old block and he had known all along could count on me."
Georgina turned back the bedclothes. She said,
"Golly, I bet he feels proud of you."
Cor looked pleased.
"Yes. Do you know what he said about you?"
She was massaging a leg; her hand did not falter although her heart gave a
lurch.
"No--and I don't think that your guardian would expect you to repeat it to
me," she said repressively.
"You always say " your guardian" and not Julius. Why?"
She started on the other leg.
"Your guardian employs me. It would be rude of me to call him anything else."
"He calls you Miss Rodman and we all call you George." He was silent for a
moment, then blurted out: "I don't like that--nor does Beatrix--she said so.
Don't you like each other? Karel kissed you under the mistletoe, but Cousin
Julius didn't."
Georgina bit her lip.
"Darling, of course we like each other." She paused. It would be better if
she ignored the last part of his remark.
"Look, I tell you what I'll do--I'll call him Julius while we've keeping
house together, shall I? Just to you."
Cor brightened.
"Yes, please, George dear, and I'm sure he won't mind, because he told me to
do exactly as you said and to take great care of you because there aren't any
more like you. What do you suppose he meant?" He looked at her.
"You've gone very red in the face--is it hard work doing my legs?"
"Yes. I don't think Julius meant anything much;
only that nurses are scarce, you know, and hard to come by. There, no more
for tonight. I'm going to tuck you up and then go and telephone my aunt, and
mind you're asleep when I come upstairs. "
She kissed him goodnight and gave him a hug and said cheerfully:
"We'll make a calendar tomorrow--you know, little squares, one for each day;
then we can cross them off every evening--the days go fast that way."
Actually, the days did go fast. There was the visit of the radiographer and
his technician to X-ray Cor's legs; they came in the morning and had coffee
and explained their complicated machine to Cor, so that when his guardian
telephoned that evening, the conversation was highly technical. Mr.
Sawbridge came too, a day or two later, and pronounced himself very satisfied
with the results of the X-rays. He did a great deal of adjusting of the
traction and explained at some length to Cor about the necessity of walking
carefully with gutter crutches once he was on-his feet.
"I've seen that marvelous bike Julius gave you for Christmas," he said.
"No getting on to it until I say so." He sat down on the bed, abruptly
shedding his professional manners.
"Let's hear what they're up to in Holland."
Georgina left them together, whistled to Robby, and went into the garden.
Mr. Sawbridge stayed to lunch, and harped for an unnecessarily long time upon
her future career in hospital. He looked a
t her speculatively and said
gently, "You will make an excellent Sister, George--that is, of course, if
that's what you wish to be."
She didn't answer him, because to say "No, I'd rather marry Julius' would
probably have shocked him profoundly, and she liked him far too much to put
him out in any way.
It was New Year's Eve, and the evening telephone conversation took so long
that she deduced that the entire family were taking it in turns to have a
word with Cor. It was therefore surprising when he said:
"George, Julius wants to speak to you."
She took the telephone from him and sat down composedly on the side of his
bed, her orderly mind already busy with a report. The Professor's voice said
in her ear, "No, I don't want a report-- I had a word with Sawbones. How are
you?"
She said, breathless, "Very well, thank you," and waited.
He said to surprise her, "I shall think of you at midnight."
She could think of nothing to say but "Why?" and heard him laugh.
"Wanting an answer again, Georgina? You will have to wait for this one. In
the meantime, goodnight."
She answered mechanically, feeling disappointed. He hadn't even bothered to
wish her a Happy New Year.
She hadn't intended to sit up to see the New Year in, there seemed little
point in it. She had telephoned Aunt Polly earlier in the evening, there was
really nothing more to do except finish the rag doll, and when that was done,
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