Читать книгу A Dancer from the Abbey - Elsie Jeanette Dunkerley - Страница 4

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“I say, Ray!” Damaris dashed into the little parlour within the Abbey walls. “Such an odd thing!—Yes, I know I’m filthy. I’ve come in to wash; it was the bonfire. Ray, a man’s turned up, and he’s Brian Grandison, dear old Granny Grandison’s son, who went to South Africa. You know the story? Blessing’s taking care of him, till I’m clean again.” And she disappeared into the bathroom.

The girl standing by the table, turning over some papers with one hand, while she stroked a purring golden cat gently with the other, was like her in the dark eyes and firm chin, but her hair was brown and not so curly. She wore a long white gown, like a monk’s robe, with a girdle at the waist, her uniform as Guardian of the Abbey ruins. Her eyes were wistful and restless, as if she carried a burden.

“John Grant Grandison, the composer—his son?” she asked. “How odd! What brought him here?”

“To see me, my dear. I’d have been worried yesterday, but it’s all right to-day,” Damaris shouted joyfully.

Rachel’s lips pinched. “I can’t get used to it,” she said to herself. “I’m going to lose her, and—what’s that?” she said aloud.

“You know what it is,” Damaris called, as the clear high notes of a pipe sounded across the garth. “Go and talk to her! It’s Lady Jen; couldn’t be anyone else.”

Rachel went out to the garth, where tall, curly-haired Jen Marchwood stood at the entrance to the tresaunt, piping a processional morris on a three-hole English pipe, whose notes were like silver bells. Rachel had seen her already this morning, when, very early, she had taken home the small car which had been lent to them for the Coronation jaunt to town; and in a few hurried words she had told the news Damaris had given late the night before.

“Oh, Ray, how splendid!” had been Jen’s comment. “I’ll hear more about it presently. I must get my family off to school. Tell Dammy-Marry how very, very glad I am. You must be thrilled and happy. It’s quite wonderful, after all this time!”

But now, as she came across the garth, her face was sober. “I’ve come to be cheered up. The Abbey is the place for people to find comfort. I’m definitely lonely, Abbey Lady. What are you going to do about it?”

“Hear about it, I hope. How can you possibly be lonely, with your house full of children and babies, Lady Jen? That jolly tune didn’t sound in the least sad.”

“That was to keep up my spirits. Kenneth’s gone off to town for the day, just when I need him for company. Men don’t always understand these things.”

“But why this sudden loneliness?” Rachel asked. “I’d laugh, if I didn’t think you really mean it.”

“I do mean it. The elder boys went off to York yesterday, and to-day my big daughter has gone to school for the first time, and my biggest little boy at home has gone with her to the Kindergarten. I’m missing them terribly, and I’m aching to know how Rosemary’s getting on, alone in Wycombe. It’s all I can do to keep myself from leaping into the car and rushing down to school to ask if she’s all right.”

“Oh, you mustn’t do that! Think how people would laugh at her!”

“I know. I have to bear it. But I don’t know how I can wait till the afternoon.”

“Rosemary is almost nine. She should be all right,” Rachel said consolingly.

“She’s such a quiet little person,” Jen explained. “Not in the least like me. And she’s been dreading going to school. The one thing that made her go off happily was the thought that she must be there to take care of Mike, who is only six. It was really rather nice, Ray! Rosemary shrank from school, but she couldn’t let Mike down, and as he was to start she had to go to look after him.”

“How sweet of her!” Rachel laughed. “Oh, she’ll be all right! She’s always been motherly to the little ones.”

“The joke is that Mike doesn’t want to be looked after. He’s eager to be a big boy and go to school and be different from the babies. Rosemary will find she isn’t needed, but I hope by that time she’ll have made friends.”

“I’m sure she will. Queen Lavender and Jansy will keep an eye on her. You haven’t sent Katharine as well?”

“I couldn’t spare Katharine,” Jen said definitely. “She’s invaluable to me.”

“Oh, Lady Jen! At four and a half?”

“Most decidedly. She takes charge of the twins and leaves Nanny to see to Baby.”

“She’s beginning early! What can she do, at that age?”

“She takes a twin firmly by each hand and marches them off into the garden; they can just toddle as far as that—they’re a year and a half old. Katharine plays with them for hours at a time.”

“How very helpful! Oh, then, I quite see Mike’s point of view. He doesn’t want to stay at home with the babies.”

“No, he’s ready for school. He feels completely grown-up. He asked me yesterday when he could go to York with Andrew and Tony.”

“He’ll soon be off your hands altogether.”

“That’s the worst of children. You lose them so quickly; almost as bad as kittens. But Rosemary and Mike are only staying for the half-day at present. The car is to fetch them after school dinner; it would be too long for Mike to stay all day. Shall I come to the Abbey at two o’clock, and take them out of the car and bring them home through the garden? The walk would be good for them, after being indoors all morning. Poor babes! I’m sorry for them, having to start on such a lovely day!”

“And we’d hear how Rosemary managed at school.” Rachel grasped the point. “Oh, please, Lady Jen! I do want to know about her!”

“I’ll do it,” Jen promised. “What’s the matter?” and her kind eyes scanned Rachel’s face keenly. “Didn’t you sleep last night? You look tired. Was Lavender’s crowning too much for you?”

“Not the crowning.” Rachel looked back at her bravely.

“I suppose Damaris worked you up with her excitement? It’s great news! She really thinks she’ll be all right again?”

“She’s quite sure. I’m glad; very glad. But—don’t you see, Lady Jen? You generally understand.”

“I think I understand now,” Jen said gently. “You feel you’re going to lose her. Or the Abbey—which? I’ve been wondering what you would do, ever since you told me.”

“That’s what we talked about last night.” Rachel caught her breath. “I can’t leave the Abbey; it’s my job. Damaris won’t let me go with her; she said it quite definitely. She wants me to stay here, and I’ve promised to be happy about it. But it isn’t going to be easy. We’ve always been together.”

“It’s my problem with Rosemary over again. You’ve mothered Damaris; now you have to let her go away and win through alone. Ray dear, I do understand. I know just how you feel. You’ll be lonely; there’s no help for it. But you must be brave. She’s strong enough to stand on her own feet, and Madame Roskova will see that she comes to no harm.”

“You do think I’m right to stay here?” Rachel asked wistfully. “I hate to let her go alone, back to that difficult life. She’ll be taken care of all right, but she’ll want me to talk to; she’ll want to tell me everything, and to discuss things with me. But I can’t let down the Abbey now!”

“Most certainly you can’t. It isn’t merely the Abbey, you know. We might find another guide, but you’re becoming the counsellor and confidant of all these younger girls. They come to you for advice; we’ve seen that. You couldn’t let down Jansy and Lavender!”

“I’m not good enough,” Rachel objected. “I try to help, but I don’t always know what to say.”

“You seem to manage very well. They all turn to you. Oh, Rachel, don’t go away! We’re so glad to have you in the Abbey! Joan said so last night.”

Rachel coloured. Joan—Mrs. Raymond—was the owner of the Abbey and her employer, and her good opinion meant much to the Abbey Guardian.

Jen slipped a hand through her arm. “We’ll be lonely together. We’ll buck up one another.”

“You said you came to the Abbey to be comforted,” Rachel said. “But it seems to me you’re doing the comforting.”

“You must be careful, you know,” Jen said earnestly. “Rosemary hasn’t an idea how I feel, but Dammy-Marry knows all about it. Don’t spoil her joy in her new future! I’m sure she’s radiantly happy. Where is she? I must tell her how glad I am.”

“She’s getting rid of the smuts from a bonfire.” Rachel gave a little laugh. “Someone has come from town to see her and she had a dirty face, so she’s cleaning up.”

“Who is the unexpected visitor?”

“The son of John Grant Grandison, who wrote the music for her ballets. She hadn’t seen him before; he’s been abroad.”

“A man!” Jen raised her brows. “Mary Damayris must be careful. There’s no room for men in her life!”

“She knows that. There’ll be plenty of men, but not in the way you mean. I wish there could be just one man; the right man!” Rachel broke out.

“You’d like to see her married?”

“I want her to be happy. I wouldn’t mind losing her, if it were for marriage. I don’t like letting her go back to a stage life alone.”

“Perhaps the right man will come along. But could she care enough for any man to give up her dancing for his sake?” Jen pondered the problem.

“I don’t believe she could. Dancing is her whole life.”

“She thinks so, anyway. But love can be very compelling, and Mary Damayris is an artist and doesn’t take things lightly. It may happen,” said Jen hopefully. “I’m glad she can dance again, but I agree with you that marriage would be even happier. Let me have a look at this young Grandison!”