A Star Looks Down - Part 24
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Part 24

"That is if they have been good.

Miss Partridge?

' He smiled at her, his eyebrows lifted in casual, friendly inquiry.

Above the excited shouts and squeals she a.s.sured him gravely that she had no fault to find with any of them, whereupon he crossed the room to where she was sitting, mending a doll for Alberdina.

"You will be glad of a few hours' peace and quiet," he suggested, and she agreed composedly in a wooden voice which quite hid her true feelings.

Of course, it would have been absurd of him to suggest that she might have liked to go too.

She felt unaccountable annoyance because he hadn't, forgetful of her resolve to see as little of him as possible.

She helped the children prepare for their treat, went to the kitchen to ask, in her fragmented Dutch, that a picnic might be prepared, and went back upstairs until the children were ready.

She didn't go downstairs with them; Mevrouw Thor becke was at the door, waiting to see the party off and there was no need for her to go.

The children raced down the stairs, shouting their good-byes as they went, but Alberdina came trotting back to throw her arms round her neck and wish that she was coming too.

Beth, much touched, kissed the round cheek, a.s.sured her that she would be waiting to hear all about their day when they returned, and sent her running after the others.

Mevrouw Thor becke had seconded her brother's suggestion that Beth should have the rest of the day free until the sailing party returned.

She excused herself from lunch, took her writing things and wandered off, taking care to walk away from the harbour in case she should be seen by the children.

But after half an hour, when she judged they should be gone, she wended her way back through the little town and strolled round its small harbour, watching the boeier, already quite a way out, fast disappearing into the distance.

As she turned away, she wondered if the profess or had a yacht of his own; it would be exceptional if he hadn't, for he seemed to have everything.

She had coffee and a kaas broodje in the hotel, and since it was perfect sailing weather and everyone who had the chance was on the water, the place was almost empty.

She had a second cup of coffee, and began a letter to William.

But she couldn't think of much to write about; she touched on the perfect weather, the pleasant little town, the children and the vague possibility of her return within a short time, hoped that he was coping with the housekeeping and ended this rather dull missive with various instructions regarding the shopping and his laundry.

She then took herself off to post it, and because there was really nothing more to do, she went back to the house, collected some knitting from her room and went out into the garden, where she sat doing nothing at all until the commotion made by the returning sailors roused her from her thoughts.

Beth looked at her watch; it was after five o'clock.

She hadn't gone in for a cup of tea at half past three because she had heard a car full of visitors arriving, and if Mevrouw Thor becke had friends to tea it would be better if she didn't join them, because then everyone was forced to speak English, which might have been rather a bore for them.

She got up now, carefully packed up the knitting she hadn't touched, and went indoors to where the children, very excited, were telling their mother about their day, while their uncle lounged in a chair, his eyes shut.

Mevrouw Thor becke gave a relieved sigh as Beth entered the room.

"Ah, Beth, there you are!

I have a headache--all those wretched people calling and talking like magpies--would it not be a good idea if the children were to have their tea in the playroom with you?

Then they could have their baths and be ready for dinner.

There must be some quiet game they could play then.

' Beth agreed quickly, conscious of the profess or's eyes, open now, upon her, and torn between relief at not having to talk to him and disappointment at not seeing him again until dinner, she led the children away, still talking at the tops of their voices, except for Dirk, of course, who answered her questions civilly enough, but volunteered no remarks of his own.

But the other children made up for his silence; they talked and giggled themselves through an enormous tea and then settled down to a game of Monopoly behind closed doors because of the noise, shrieking with laughter at Beth's endeavours to play in a foreign language, until it was time for their baths.

It was striking eight when she led them downstairs, the elder three very clean and smart because their uncle would be there, and Alberdina in her dressing-gown, ready for bed.

And as for Beth, she had put on the purple dress and made up her face in a very perfunctory fashion, dragging her hair back with a severity which somehow made her look very young indeed.

Dinner was eaten with a good deal of laughter and talking and small sleepy giggles from Alberdina, whom Beth whisked away as soon as the last of her pudding had been spooned up, returning to escort Hubert to his bed and then go down once more to drink her coffee in the drawing room while Dirk and Marineka, being the two eldest, were enjoying another fifteen minutes with the grown-ups.

They in their turn, said good night, and she got up with them, adding her own good nights.

"My dear good girl," expostulated the profess or, 'you can't possibly go to bed at nine o'clock.

Besides, I want to talk to you.

' He had said he would forget their regrettable conversation on the stairs, and it seemed he had; Beth told herself she should be glad as she agreed to join them again, but only because Mevrouw Thor becke had added her voice to her brother's.

They were going to tell her that she could return to St Elmer's, she decided, but it wasn't that at all.

The profess or offered her a chair opposite his sister, seated himself where he could look at her and stated simply: "You have had no day off, Beth.

I should like to drive you to my home tomorrow.

'1 She glanced at him, sitting back at his ease, elegant in his tweeds, and encountered a smile to charm the heart out of her, "Mar tina agrees with me.

' "It's very kind of you," she paused to steady her breath, 'but I'm quite happy with the children, you know.

' "You would rather not come out with me?

' asked the profess or unfairly, seeing that his sister was listening to every word.

"Nothing of the sort," she a.s.sured him, her colour a little high, 'only it seemed to me that it wouldn't be a very restful day for you-you looked tired when you arrived this mo ming; surely a day doing nothing would do you much more good?

' He was amused behind his placid face.

"What sharp eyes you have.

Miss Partridge-no one else saw that.

Perhaps you might change your mind if I tell you that I can think of no pleas anter way of spending my day than showing you my home.

' He smiled again.

"Ten o'clock?

' he suggested.

Short of saying no, which would have sounded ungracious and very rude, she could do nothing else but accept gracefully.

It was a splendid opportunity to wear the new dress and Beth, surveying herself in the mirror the next morning, thought, quite erroneously, that its demure grey was most suitable; the type of dress which would pa.s.s unnoticed without being dowdy.

In fact it emphasized her remarkable eyes to a degree which would have satisfied any girl with an ounce of conceit; but conceit was something Beth had never had; her stepbrother had seen to that.

It took a little while to explain her dressed-up person to the children at breakfast, a meal taken in the playroom; she had barely finished rea.s.suring Alberdina and Hubert that she really would be coming back that day when a cheerful bellow from the profess or sent her down to the hall where he and his sister were waiting.

"That's a pretty dress," observed the profess or, and added: "Good morning, Elizabeth.

' She wished them both a good day, replied suitably to Mevrouw Thor becke's observance that it was a lovely morning, and accompanied the profess or out to his car, with the children swarming around them, the little girls to kiss her good-bye just once more and the boys to stare at the magnificence of the Aston Martin and start on a spate of questions, cut short by their uncle with a: "We're off--out of the way, my dears--tot ziens.

' They went down the short drive to the accompaniment of shouted good-byes and a forest of waving arms.

"A royal sendoff," commented the profess or.

"Anyone might think that we were off on our honeymoon.

' Unanswerable.

"A lovely day," Beth observed, wishing that they were.

"So Mar tina has already said, though she was referring to the weather; I hope you mean something different, little Partridge.

' "It's very nice to be going out," said Beth woodenly, and added, in a praiseworthy attempt at normal conversation: "I'm not sure where you live--is it in Utrecht?

' "No, I work there most of the time, I told you that, I believe.

My home is in a very small village indeed, much smaller than Caundle Bubb, and that's small enough, isn't it?

It's six miles from Utrecht and is called Dwaarstein.

We go over the Moerdijk to get to it.

' He talked on, mainly about the country they were pa.s.sing through, so that presently Beth relaxed and began to enjoy herself.

They stopped in Dordrecht for coffee, at a pleasant restaurant in the centre of the town, and although her companion offered to spend a little time there if she wished, she sensed that he wanted to get on; and so did she; she wanted to see his home very badly, and still more, she wanted to know more about him although she was sensible enough to know that this was a foolish wish; the less she knew about him the better.

But common sense was eclipsed for the moment.

She sat beside him, obediently looking at anything he pointed out to her, and peeping, from time to time, at him.

When he wasn't looking, of course.

They were tearing along the motorway again, going through pleasant, flat country, prettily wooded here and there, and from discussing the scenery, the profess or had turned the conversation, almost unnoticed, to more personal matters.

It was only after Beth had told him her rather vague plans for the future that she realized that she was gabbling about herself, and stopped so abruptly that he gave her a quick glance, slowed the car, and asked: "A new bee in your bonnet, Beth?

' "What do you mean--a new bee?

' "Well, I have already discovered several, you know.

You have one about your quite charming face, have you not?

and one about seeing that William gets his chance in life, even at the cost of your own wishes--I wonder how many new dresses you have forgone in order to keep up his supply of waistcoats?

And you have one, a very large one, about the unsuitability of an English nurse falling in love with a Dutch profess or.

' He ignored her gasp.

"And now, unless I am very much mistaken, I am faced with yet another--a mistaken idea that I must be told nothing of your plans for the future.

I can't think why.

' He sighed.

"Pride, I daresay.

' "Don't be ridiculous!

' she snapped, taking refuge in bad temper.

"And I thought that we were never going to mention.

' "Ah, yes--my lamentable memory.

' "But you said you had a very retentive brain.

' "True, but only when I want it to be.

' He swung the car off the motorway and under a fly over and emerged on to the other side, on a much narrower country road.

"We're almost there--Utrecht is away to our right, about twelve miles away.

I can reach it from Dwaarstein by another road.

' He turned off again, down a pretty, tree lined avenue, curving this way and that for no reason but to allow for several charming villas to be set in its curves.

Half-way down it the profess or turned once more, this time through an open gateway with pillars on either side of it, running more slowly now, between the trees and shrubs of a small wood.

It wasn't until they were almost at its end that Beth could see the house, set a little to one side of a gravel sweep.