Читать книгу A Dancer from the Abbey - Elsie Jeanette Dunkerley - Страница 8

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“Myonie wants to see the Abbey. She’s heard about it.” Rosemary was chattering happily as Jen set out for home, calling a temporary farewell to Brian Grandison.

He rose from the rockery by which he had been kneeling. “Is this Brownie? Oh, yes, it most certainly is Brownie! And all’s well?”

“All is very well. We’ve made a new friend and we’re quite happy.” Jen smiled in great relief.

Rosemary rushed off to seize Rachel’s golden cat, who was dancing round his black foster-sister, while she crouched on the gravel drive with lashing tail.

“Golden Boy, shall I tell you about Myonie? She likes cats; hers is black, with white top-boots and a white shirt. I told her about my Ginger, but she’ll like to see you too.”

“Golden Boy has a new name.” Rachel smiled down at the small girl. “Now that he’s almost grown up it was time he had a real name; he can’t go on being Boy for ever. So we call him Rory.”

“Rory? That’s a funny name!” Rosemary exclaimed.

“It’s because he purrs in such a loud roar,” Rachel explained seriously. “He’s a regular roarer.”

“So you call him Rory!” Rosemary chuckled. “I’ll tell Myonie about Rory being a roarer!”

“Myonie and you seem to have endless points in common,” Jen said. “Come and tell Ginger about her! Katharine wants to hear about school, too. Look at Mike! He’s half-way home already!”

Mike, sturdily independent, had reached the Abbey gate and was clamouring to have it opened. Rachel let the little family party go through, and then came back to Benedicta.

“It will do Rosemary all the good in the world. Lady Jen is sure she’s been dreading school. She’ll be much better now that she’s taken the plunge.”

“Myonie has been a real blessing,” Benedicta agreed.

The telephone rang in the Abbey and Rachel turned to the gate.

Damaris shot past her, in a wild, excited leap. “It may be for me.”

“What is she expecting?” Benedicta asked.

“I’ve no idea. She hasn’t said anything.” Rachel looked troubled.

Damaris met them at the gate, her face radiant and full of excitement. “It was Madame. My letter caught the very early post and she’s just had it. She wants to see me at once; she’s terribly thrilled. She asked if I could go to-night.”

“To-night!” It was a cry almost of tragedy from Rachel.

Brian and Benedicta looked at her quickly, and saw she was white, with startled eyes.

“Only just to have a talk!” Damaris said hurriedly. “I’d come back to-morrow. But she can’t wait. She wants to see for herself. Oh, Ray, can’t I go? I think I must go, Ray. I can’t wait, either.”

“I could run you up to town,” Brian said. “And I could bring you back to-morrow, when I come to stay at the Manor. My mother would be delighted if you’d come to us for the night.”

Damaris turned to him, her face ablaze with gratitude. “Would you? Take me to town and bring me back? Madame will give me a bed. Your car would be the most enormous help. You are good! Can you wait while I get into a frock and fling a few things into a bag? Thanks a million times! You don’t mind, do you, Ray? You know I simply must go.”

One second had been enough for Rachel. Her eyes were quiet again and her colour had come back. “Of course, you must go. Madame wants to talk things over with you. Run off and change! If Mr. Grandison will really take you to town, that will be a great help.”

“I’ll bring her back to-morrow,” Brian said, as with a whoop of excitement Damaris was gone. “Miss Rachel, I hope you won’t feel unhappy about her. Everybody will be very careful of her; she’s rather a valuable person, isn’t she?”

“Oh, I know she’ll be all right! And she has to go,” Rachel said quietly. “Thank you for your help.” She went after Damaris to the house, and they heard her call: “Can I do anything, Marry?”

Brian looked at Benedicta. “She doesn’t want Mary Damayris to go, does she?”

“She wants her to go, but she’s going to miss her terribly.”

“Can’t you fill the gap her sister will leave?”

“Oh, no! Nobody can do that. I’ll be here, for company, and I’ll take on the garden for Damaris, but I can’t take her place. Rachel has promised to be happy about it,” Benedicta said gravely. “She said it last night. But it’s easier to say than to do. She knows it has to be and she won’t spoil it for Damaris, but she’s going to feel very bad.”

Rachel came out again. She had herself well in hand by this time.

“Mr. Grandison, I want you to stay for tea, but Damaris won’t hear of it. She’s on fire with eagerness to reach Madame and show her what she can do and get her advice. Do you mind?”

“I sympathise in her eagerness,” he laughed. “I can quite understand it. If tea seems imperative we’ll stop somewhere on our way; I’d be proud to treat Mary Damayris to a drink! But it’s more likely she won’t want to spend time on it. I’ll hand her over to Madame Roskova, and if she’ll come to us for the night we shall be honoured. But I quite expect her friend and teacher won’t give her up, even for bed. I’ll do my best to return her safely to-morrow, Miss Rachel.”

“You’re more than kind! It really is a help to know you will take care of her.”

Damaris came running out, a small case in her hand. “You can come to hear about the rest of the garden when you’re staying at the Manor. Sir Ken can do without you for an hour, and Blessing can tell you things, if I’m not here. Do you mind if we go at once? I just can’t wait to get to Madame!”

“We’re going right now,” he assured her. “We know you can’t wait. Nothing matters but hearing what Madame has to say.”

Damaris paused, on her way to the car. “Do you think I’m a little bit mad? If you knew—!”

“I think you’re right,” he assured her. “I’m all out to help, in any way I can.”

“Oh, good! I’m not really a lunatic, but I’ve wanted it so much, and it is my whole life.”

She went to the car, but turned at the Abbey gate. “Here, Ray, take this! I sha’n’t ever want it again. It’s yours now. Keep Blessing for the night, for company. She can have my bed.” She tossed something to Rachel and ran to the car.

“What did you give your sister? And why will you never want it again?” Brian asked, as they set out.

“A key!” Damaris looked grim. “It’s the key of the Abbot’s oratory, and the oratory is where we go when things are too bad for words. The key was given to me so that I’d have a private place, a retreat, when I felt I couldn’t bear things any longer; I’ve had some bad times, you know. I used to shut myself in and weep on the floor. I’m afraid for Rachel; she feels things so terrifically. If she has to break her heart, she’ll want to do it in the oratory.”

“But she is willing you should go,” he said quickly.

“Oh, yes! Things might be worse. Ray’s awfully decent and she knows I have to go. If I were insisting on going against her will, that really would make a division between us, and that would break both our hearts. It’s not as bad as that. She’ll go with me in her mind; we won’t really be separated. But all the same, Ray’s going to want the oratory. I’m glad I remembered the key.”

“You won’t let the thought of her spoil your joy in this return to your old life?”

“Nothing could do that,” Damaris said simply.

He gave her a quick glance. “It’s a wonderful time for you.”

“Oh, quite marvellous! Nice of you to understand! Now that we can’t see Ray’s tragic eyes, let’s be jolly and enjoy it! I’m sorry about Ray, but she has the Abbey. It will comfort her quite soon.”