Читать книгу Robins in the Abbey - Elsie Jeanette Dunkerley - Страница 9

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“But where is my wandering family?” Joy asked, when she was satisfied that Robin had been well looked after. “Nurse and the babies are having their tea upstairs, but has Miss Belinda taken the twins back to New York?”

“Mary-Dorothy’s looking for them. Perhaps they’ve gone to the barn,” Littlejan suggested.

The telephone rang, and Robin started up, her face full of fear. Joy checked her. “I’ll call you at once, if it’s for you. But it’s far more likely to be for me. I won’t keep you in suspense.”

Littlejan’s hand crept to Robin’s and pressed it. “You mustn’t jump like that every time the ’phone goes; you really mustn’t——”

“It’s for me, Robin,” Joy called.

“Oh, thank you!” Robin relaxed, looking white and tired.

“All Lady Joy’s friends will ring up to ask how she is after the journey,” Littlejan explained. “If you have heart attacks every time, you’ll be very tired before your news comes.”

“I see that,” Robin acknowledged. “I’ll try to be sensible.”

“It was Joan, asking if we’d arrived,” Joy said, when she returned and found the girls talking quietly, Littlejan determined to leave her guest no time for brooding. “It will be the President next, or Miriam. I’m afraid it will be disappointing for you, Robin, but I gave all these dear people such a fright a year ago that they want to hear my voice and make sure I’m really home.... And here, at last, are the twins. Miss Belinda, where have you been? Aren’t you dying for tea? Ring for fresh cups, please, Littlejan. Twins, you may have tea with us, for once. Now tell me what you’ve been doing.”

“Went to see Tunnel,” Margaret said gloomily. “But he’s dead.”

“He had dis-something, and though Mr. Edwards sat up at night with him, he couldn’t save him,” Elizabeth explained. “But he’ll give us another puppy later on, when we come home to live.”

“Tunnel?” Joy sounded dazed. She had not realised the importance of Tunnel to the twins.

“The bloodhound puppy at the farm,” Lindy explained. “I couldn’t satisfy them; they had to go to see him. Mr. Edwards is very sorry, but Tunnel died of distemper three months ago, and Bess hasn’t any pups at present.”

“If he gives you another, it might be something smaller than a bloodhound, Elizabeth,” Joy remarked. “And I can’t have a dog called Tunnel, Margaret. I’ve told you so before.”

“No other dog could be called Tunnel,” Margaret said definitely. “This one had to be Tunnel, because Bess found us in the tunnel.”

“If she hadn’t, we might still be there,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“I think somebody would have found you! Tell Robin the story of your tunnel, while you have your tea.”

Lindy and Littlejan had fallen into one another’s arms. “Miss Belinda, how lovely to have you home again! Don’t go back to America!” Joan the Second cried.

“Littlejan! Congrats on being Queen! I was so frightfully bucked when I heard!” Lindy exclaimed.

“I can’t imagine why they did it.”

“And a unanimous vote! Mary told me.”

“All but one.” Littlejan grinned at her. “I wanted Alison, the head girl.”

“Oh well, you couldn’t vote for yourself! You don’t count. When will you dress up in your robes and let us see you?”

“I don’t know; perhaps not till next May-day. There’s to be a party in the barn for Lady Joy soon, but I want to dance. I’m not going to spoil it by wearing a long dress and a train!”

“We want to see the Folk Play too,” Joy said, from across the tea-table. “Do you make a good Fool? Do you know the Mummers’ Play, Robin? You ought to see it, while you’re here. Are you a dancer?”

Robin smiled at her shyly. “Lady Kentisbury taught us a good deal, before her marriage, when she kept the school tuck-shop. Then our gardening mistress kept us up to the mark; she danced beautifully. But I haven’t done any since I left, a year ago.”

“You must tell us your favourite dances, and we’ll put them on our programme,” Joy said thoughtlessly.

“If I want to dance.” Robin spoke quietly. “It’s very kind of you, but I may not be here. I might have to go to Mother.”

“I’m sorry. For a moment I forgot,” Joy confessed.

“It will be thrilling for you, Joy,” and Mary Devine changed the subject quickly. “The Club has learnt so many new dances, thanks to Littlejan. You may find you don’t know half the programme.”

“I’ll enjoy seeing the new ones,” Joy assured them.

Maidlin’s husband, Jock Robertson, arrived from town in time for dinner, and his eyes twinkled with amusement at finding himself the only man in the party. He insisted that Maidlin must come down to keep him company, or, as he said, to hold his hand, and complained loudly that Ivor Quellyn should have come home with his wife and family.

“I shall ring up the Manor to-morrow and ask Kenneth Marchwood to come to dinner every evening,” he declared. “And in a few days Maid and I and the girls will go to The Pallant and leave you to yourselves.”

“How you love to say ‘the girls’!” Joy mocked. “Considering the size of your daughters you might call them babies. You’re fairly radiating conceit, Jock Robertson.”

He laughed. “They are rather nice! I’ve three little Maids instead of one; I feel very rich. Here’s the skylark! What has Ivor Quellyn done for you, Belinda Bellanne? Remember your voice is in my charge.”

“You shall hear her sing presently,” Joy promised. “Ivor’s delighted with her progress and prophesies great things for her.”

Robin was very quiet, among all the greetings and laughter. Maidlin, quiet also, smiled at her now and then, with understanding sympathy, and Lindy and Littlejan tried to keep her interested, so that she could not brood. She begged to be allowed to go to bed early, and Joy agreed that it would be wise for every one.

“We’re all tired with the excitement of homecoming. Lindy will take you to your room. It’s a little one, but the house is full to overflowing.” Lady Quellyn smiled at her. “It’s called Jen’s room; the one she used to have when she came to stay.”

“It’s more than kind of you to find a corner for me,” Robin said earnestly. “I can see now how lonely I’d have been at Quellyn. I’m realising it more all the time.”

“Oh, you couldn’t be alone with your maids at a time like this! It would have been dreadful for you,” Joy said warmly.

Lindy pointed out the various bedrooms, as they reached the gallery. “Lady Joy’s room is here; the twins are in there and I’m next to them. You’ve been in Mrs. Robertson’s room. Nurse and the babies are away at that end. Littlejan has the room next to me.”

“And these two are Mary-Dorothy’s rooms,” the Marigold Queen said, deep meaning in her voice. “You won’t forget, will you, Robin?”

“I won’t forget,” Robin said gratefully.

She lay in the dark, trying to rest, stilling her anxious thoughts by dwelling on each of these new friends in turn. Maidlin, happy with her babies and her Jock, with her new home waiting for her—Lady Quellyn, beautiful and stately, with her big twins and her baby boys—Littlejan, with the vivid personality and deep understanding which had so evidently captured her schoolmates and made her election as Queen inevitable—Lindy, overwhelmingly friendly and sympathetic, with her wonderful voice and obviously the life of a public singer before her—Jen Marchwood, about to tear up her roots and go wandering to fresh continents for her husband’s sake—Mary-Dorothy Devine? Mary had been as quiet during dinner as Robin herself, and Robin felt she did not know her yet.

But it was all no use. Suddenly there flashed into her mind the picture she was holding at bay—the ’plane falling in flames—her mother....

She sprang out of bed and ran barefoot from the room, down the quiet corridor, to tap on Mary’s door.

It opened swiftly, as if she had been expected. Mary, in a blue dressing-gown, drew her in.

“I hoped you would come,” she whispered. “Was it very bad? Oh, you poor dear—bare feet? As bad as that? Wait one moment,” and she lit the gas fire. “Put on my slippers and wrap the eiderdown round you. That’s better, isn’t it? I’ll get you something hot to drink, and then you shall tell me.”