Читать книгу Henrietta's Own Castle - Бетти Нилс - Страница 9

CHAPTER THREE

HER visitors called the next day, just as she was settling down to an afternoon of knitting and reading. She had had a busy morning turning out the cupboard under the stairs and she had found a sewing machine—an out-of-date German model, which, as far as she could see, was still functioning perfectly. Its discovery set her head buzzing with plans to make new curtains for the bedrooms and loose covers for the chairs; there was, she was discovering happily, a great deal to do. She had expected to miss her busy hospital life and her friends, and perhaps she did miss them a little, but there was no time to sit and mope—her days, she could see, were going to be well filled.

Dominee Rietveld looked rather nice, tall and thin and stooping, with a kind face and an absent-minded manner. The girl with him was just as Henrietta had guessed; pretty small, and inclined to plumpness with big china blue eyes and a quantity of fair hair hanging around her shoulders. Henrietta disliked her on sight; she didn’t like her mouth—it had a selfish pout, and the blue eyes were sly despite the charming smile. She invited her guests in, installed them in the velvet chairs and drew up a more humble seat for herself. Mr van Hessel had been right, the dominee spoke very good English, and Loes spoke it well enough, making rather a fuss about pronunciation and taking care that she was the focal point of the conversation. His wife, Mijnheer Rietveld explained, had died some ten years previously; he depended on the company of his devoted daughter as well as on her housewifery. ‘So young,’ he pointed out gently, ‘to carry the heavy responsibility of a household, and it is such a waste for a pretty girl to have to remain at home here with her old father.’