Читать книгу The Abbey Girls In Town - Elsie Jeanette Dunkerley - Страница 5

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“Not to-night. Oh, what a smell of burnt toast!” a laughing voice called out of the darkness below.

“I’ve begged her to come in, but she won’t,” Mary was still two flights down but coming slowly up.

“Good night! See you after Christmas!” and then the sound of the motor told Ruth that Jen had gone, much to her disappointment.

“Ruth, I apologise! I am so sorry I had to be out. Has Biddy explained?” Mary came in, dropping a pair of plimsolls into a corner. “Has she looked after you properly?”

“Biddy’s been splendid and has done everything for me. But I don’t think she happened to explain just where you were,” Ruth was eyeing her mysterious elder cousin curiously.

“Mary, have you passed?” burst out Biddy from the hearthrug, where she was making more toast.

Mary laughed, and threw her hat aside. “Passed with honours, I think. Jen’s really pleased. She meant it; she wasn’t putting it on. She says the children are dancing very nicely.”

“Cheers! Oh, good! You needn’t have been so nervy!”

“Of course, there were points to put right; little things I’d missed or misunderstood. I’ve done so little myself; I never realised how little till I began to teach. But Jen says their style is good, and they’re surprisingly free from faults and absolutely natural and unaffected. They were good to-night!”

“No wonder, after the lecture we gave them last week! It will be a huge load off your mind!”

Mary turned to Ruth. “Shall I go and change, or will you excuse me as I am? I’ve been teaching country-dancing, and I’m in my tunic. Do you mind?”

“Oh, she’ll excuse your legs!” Biddy laughed. “Don’t go and change at this time of night, Mary-Dorothy! Here’s a beautiful slice of toast just ready for you!”

“Please don’t change for my sake!” Ruth said hastily, her eyes beginning to twinkle, however. “Do you really wear gym things, Mary? Oh, but how nice you look! How neat!”

Mary threw aside her big coat, and stood in her blue tunic and slim black legs. “We all wear them for classes; you have to for sword-dancing, if you’re to enjoy yourself at all. When I was asked to take on this children’s club and teach them once a week, the leader said she’d prefer it if I came in gym things, as it looked more businesslike.”

“Do you really teach dancing? But do you dance yourself?” Ruth was eyeing her in stunned astonishment.

“I try, just a little. Of course, I shall never be good,” Mary said simply. “I’m too stiff; though not nearly so stiff as I was! But I’ll never be a good dancer. Biddy’s going to be very good.”

“You should see my capers!” Biddy said gravely. “Mary’s a lot better than she says, Ruth. Don’t listen to her. And she’s taught those kids awfully well. She’s been going to them on Fridays for six months, and to-night Jen went to see how they were getting on, and to criticise. That’s why it was so fearfully important, and Mary couldn’t come to meet you. And Jen says they’re really good; and she knows.”

“Congratulations, Mary! I am glad!” Ruth said warmly.

Mary laughed. “I was really very nervous! You must come and see my children some night.”

“I shall want to, of course. But I want to see you dance yourself. When can I? Will you do something for me now?”

Mary coloured and laughed again. “No, I won’t! I’m nearly dead. But perhaps next week—have you told her about next week, Biddy?”

“No, I left you to break it to her.”

“What is it about next week?” asked Ruth curiously.

“Are you sure you’ve had enough supper? Then come to the fire, and we’ll tell you.” Mary switched off the light, and they sat in the glow of the fire, Biddy curled up on the big stool, Ruth forced by the other two into the big chair, Mary stretched on the rug, leaning against Biddy and resting her tired limbs.

“We’re very glad to see you!” Mary began, and Ruth wondered what was coming. “But you’ve come at a queer time. You find us a preoccupied family! Our minds are full of one thing, and even your coming won’t interfere with it.”

“Do tell me!” Ruth leaned forward and spoke in mock excitement to match their thrilled tones. “Is Biddy going to be married?”

“No, but we’re going to Chelsea!” Biddy proclaimed exuberantly. “Much more exciting than getting married!”

“It’s been the dream of our life,—for the last six months, anyway. Poor Ruth! It is a shame! I’ll explain,” Mary said kindly. “We’ve been going to classes in folk-dancing ever since last May, Ruth, and they’ve been the joy of our lives. But we don’t go to the official classes, which cost rather a lot for us. But Jen keeps saying we ought to go to what she calls ‘proper classes.’ Every holidays there’s a special week or fortnight, when classes are held every day, and people come from all over the country to go to them. The Christmas School is always held in London, at the Chelsea Polytechnic; and Jen has been teasing us to go to it. It costs a little, and at first we hardly felt we ought to do it. But when I got a little extra money, quite apart from my ordinary pay, the very first thing I decided to do with it was Chelsea.”

“Your articles!” Ruth cried eagerly.

Mary flushed. “It’s rather fun,” she admitted. “At first we had to use the money for clothes we were needing; but when I got a cheque for five guineas all at once, I went straight off and paid our fees for the Christmas School. I’ve a week’s leave from the office, and Biddy is having holidays. The School starts two days after Christmas, and we shall be there all day till evening. You’ll be able to do your sightseeing and shopping and so on, just as if we were at our ordinary work. I’m just afraid we may bore you by talking shop in the evenings!”

“If she’s sensible, she’ll come to Chelsea and see it for herself,” said Biddy, from her perch on the stool in the dark.

“Can I come to watch? I’d love to see what your dancing’s like. And—oh, would I see all the people you talked about in your letter? The Pixie person? And will Jen be there? Is that what she meant by ‘after Christmas’?”

“That’s it. Everybody will be there!” Biddy said exuberantly. “Joy’s coming up to live in town for the week, and she’s bringing Ros and Maidie with her, and I shall see them every day. Rosamund’s my age and Maidlin’s fifteen, and it’s their first school, too.”

“There’s folk-singing every morning, and a lecture at night; and there are demonstrations of the dances by the best dancers in the country,” Mary added.

“You’ll see Madam dance,” Biddy said joyfully.

“No, I’m afraid she won’t,” Mary remarked. “Madam isn’t coming to Chelsea.”

“Not—coming? But why not? They can’t have a school without her!” Biddy cried indignantly.

“She’s sure to have a good reason. Perhaps she wants a rest,” Mary suggested, gazing into the fire. “Perhaps she doesn’t like Chelsea.”

“She was there last year! Joy said so. I think it’s just mean of her!” Biddy cried wrathfully.

“There are plenty of others,” Mary was taking Madam’s withdrawal more calmly. Jen was in Madam’s confidence, and had been definite about the reason. “You won’t see all the new friends we’ve made, I’m afraid, Ruth. Cicely Everett and Joan Raymond, the married ones, are both staying down in the country and don’t mean to come up to town at present. But you’ll like Joy and Jen. We felt a little guilty when we heard you would arrive before the week’s school, for fear you’d be utterly bored; but we’d arranged it all by then and didn’t want to draw back.”

“Oh, but I don’t think I shall be bored! I’m looking forward to it! I shall come as a visitor, and watch all your classes. I want to see you doing things in that tunic!”

Mary laughed. “Suppose I wash up in it, then! It’s time we made a move. And I haven’t asked a single question about your journey! Aren’t you very tired?”

“Oh, I asked all that kind of thing!” Biddy sprang up to switch on the light.

“I’m going to help,” and Ruth sprang up also. “Yes, you must let me, or I shan’t feel I’m really one of the family!”

While she piled plates together and carried them to the kitchen however, her eyes were constantly on Mary, a twinkle of amused appreciation in them. Mary was very slight and small, and her brown hair had here and there a grey thread, which looked oddly out of place beside the childish blue tunic which left her thin legs bare. She looked very neat and slim as she moved lightly about, and stood presently washing dishes at the sink.

“Are you very much amused? You look it!” she said, catching sight of the twinkle as she reached up to put a plate in the rack.

“I like it. It’s very graceful, and must be awfully comfy. All this—this dancing, and these friends—must have made a great difference in your life, Mary,” Ruth said tentatively, as she dried the spoons and forks.

“I’m happier than I’ve been for years,” Mary said, in a low voice, as Biddy disappeared with a bottle in each hand. “It’s the writing, of course; the feeling of being at work again, and doing work that has results. And I owe it all—all!—to Jen Robins and Joy Shirley. They made me start; and the dancing and the music—the exercise and the new life and new friends—stirred me all up till I had to write. I had to do something, to work off the excitement. That letter you spoke of was the first thing I wrote, the day after I’d danced for the first time, at the Pixie’s children’s party.”

“That letter has been puzzling me for months!” Ruth exclaimed.

“It was unlike me; I felt that myself. I was beginning to wake up. But I don’t think the dancing alone would have meant so much to me,” Mary said thoughtfully. “It’s the work, the writing, that I’m so happy about. If the dancing hadn’t led to work, it might not have been satisfying. Come into my room and see my ‘brown pots,’ as Biddy calls them!”—and she hung up her dishcloth and led the way.

“We never used to do anything new,” she continued. “Now we’re always having new experiences. You must hear how we went to stay at the Hall with Joy; and about the Abbey! We’ve been several times. Biddy’s absolutely devoted to the girls who live there—Rosamund and Maidlin, Joy’s wards. The Chelsea School will be a new experience, too.”

“I’m awfully glad you’re going to have it! I hope you’ll go every year,” Ruth said warmly. “How lovely these things are, Mary!”

“They’re all part of it; part of the new life I’ve come into,” Mary laughed, a little uncertainly, as she took up a shining brown candlestick and turned it round and showed the gold inside the rim.

“They’re beautiful! I shall feel nervous of using Biddy’s, though!”

Mary laughed. “Biddy vows she won’t touch these; she’ll use the bathroom! She says she’d shake with fear.”

“I should drop them, from sheer fright,” Biddy said solemnly, from the doorway. “Ruth, are you using both our rooms? Oh, if Mary’s worshipping her pots and bowls, I can understand it!”

“I’m only gloating over them!” Mary laughed.

“I’m gloating too,” Ruth assured her. “Good night, you two!”