Читать книгу Selma at the Abbey - Elsie Jeanette Dunkerley - Страница 8

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A NEW POINT OF VIEW

“You look very sober,” Joan said. “What’s the matter?”

“I was wondering,” Jen explained, “just what Selma is going to say about it. How do you suppose she’ll feel?”

Joan looked at her curiously. “How do you mean? Do you think she won’t want to come?”

“If she knew what it’s like here, and what you are like, of course she’d want to come. She’d just leap at the chance. But she doesn’t know. She may hate the very thought of it, and of us. I wouldn’t like it.”

“This is serious.” Joan’s tone was grave. “I’m afraid I hadn’t realised Selma’s point of view. You think she may not like the plan?”

“I wonder what Angus has said to her?” Jen pondered. “For if she’s not engaged to him and if she’s not supposed to know how he feels, she may ask why on earth he should go sending her places—to the ends of the earth, to stay with strange people? Into a new country, to people she has never heard of? She may say it’s no business of Angus Reekie’s.”

“It’s perfectly true. We ought to have thought of that.” Joan, too, gazed across the garth, her eyes troubled.

Jen glanced at her, and they sat silent, both looking thoughtful.

“I don’t believe Angus has told her the plan,” Joan said at last. “He said something in the car; that he’d wait to hear from us before he said anything to Selma.”

“He’d be afraid you’d refuse,” Jen assented. “Then you can tell him to be careful, when he tells her. I think he’ll need to be very tactful.”

“Can Angus be tactful?” Joan asked doubtfully.

“I shouldn’t think so. He’s much more likely to rush at Selma, all thrilled with his big idea, and have a ghastly shock, if she says she won’t come here.”

“If only we knew a little more about her!” Joan exclaimed. “What will she do? What is she like? Everything turns on that!”

“A complete mystery,” Jen agreed. “She’s X, the unknown quantity. How can we make plans, when we don’t know what X is like?”

“We’ll see if Joy has any ideas,” Joan said, as they went to the house for tea, leaving the cats purring happily in a sunny corner.

“Joy won’t have any. Aunty Shirley might be able to help.”

But Mrs. Shirley merely looked dismayed, when the problem was put to her. “I hope the child will not be difficult,” she said dubiously. “It is quite possible she may resent Angus’s action and look on it as interference.”

“She’ll get her back up, if she thinks he’s trying to boss her,” Joy said. “It’s not as if they were engaged. He’d have some right to butt in then. Well, amuse yourselves nicely, dear people! I’m going to wrestle with my tune.”

“Play it to us, Joy!” Jen pleaded.

“It’s not nearly ready for that,” Joy retorted.

“Is it a dance? Or a lullaby?”

“A love song. Angus and Selma must have given me inspiration.”

“You don’t know anything about love songs!”

“Not much, but I have some imagination. It never occurred to me to try something sentimental before,” and Joy went off to her piano.

Joan was almost ready for bed when a tap came at her door, and Jen slipped in, in slippers and blue dressing-gown, with very neatly braided hair.

“May I come for one minute, Joan-Queen? I want to get something off my mind. I can’t go to sleep till I’ve asked you about it.”

“Quickly, then!” Joan commanded, and tossing back her long red plaits she came to sit on the bed. “Get inside, if you like.”

“This will do,” and Jen squatted beside her and drew the eiderdown over their knees. “It’s not a midnight feast; I’ll only stay for two minutes. I nearly sat on the Curate. Does he always sleep with you?”

“He never sleeps indoors. He comes for half an hour and then he goes off on his own, to prowl in the woods. He’s a restless person. Tell me, Jen!”

“Well, Joan dear, why don’t you write to Selma, before Angus tells her, and invite her to come here?”

Joan gazed at her. “That strikes me as quite a brilliant idea. You think she’d like it better?”

“Better than being told by Angus that he’s arranged everything without asking her.”

“Yes. Let me think! Yes, I believe you’re right. A direct invitation from us, saying we’ve heard of her from Angus and we’d like her to come and stay with us for a time; is that right?”

“And make her feel you really want her. But if she says ‘No, thank you,’ it’s going to be jolly awkward,” Jen added.

“Then Angus would have to persuade her. We won’t say anything about school. That would look too much arranged and it might give her a shock. If she comes, you can tell her about things and ask her to go with you. She’ll think she’s only been invited for a short visit, but if we seem to be getting really friendly, I shall have to talk to her; I’ll say we’ll be pleased if she will stay for some time, and that I think Angus would be pleased too.”

“And then you’ll see what she says and you’ll be able to guess what she thinks of Angus.”

“How she reacts,” Joan agreed. “I’ll do it, Jen. Thank you for a very helpful idea. You may have made things much easier for Selma.”

“I only know how I’d feel, if I were in her place.”

“Yes. I’ll write to-morrow; what a good thing we asked for her address! I’ll write to Angus too, and warn him not to say anything. Let it come from her! If they are really as good friends as he says, Selma will tell him of the invitation at once.”

“Especially as you’ll have told her that you know him,” Jen added. “I wonder if she’s heard the story of how you got to know him? But I guess not; he wouldn’t tell her.”

“We won’t tell her either. That story must be buried,” Joan said firmly.

“Righto! I won’t give him away. Thanks for letting me tell you! I can go to sleep now.”

“Thank you for a useful and brilliant idea!” Joan said, looking much relieved. “You’ve helped us already, Jenny-Wren.”

“If only we knew what Selma is like!” Jen sighed again, as she went off to bed.

“Any more brilliant ideas?” Joan asked next day.

Jen looked doubtful. “Perhaps a little tiny one. I’m afraid it isn’t worth very much. Joan, if Selma is working in a shop, with other girls, they’ll have talked to her about her boy-friend; girls do, you know.”

Joan looked interested. “You mean Selma will know that Angus wants to be more than just a casual friend?”

“It’s all very well for him to talk as if she was still at school. She isn’t; she’s grown-up and she’s with grown-up girls, even if she’s only sixteen. I think she’ll understand.”

“You may be right,” Joan assented. “It might make things easier.”

“She can’t be as—as simple and infantile—as he thinks. She may not be in love with him, but she’ll know what he wants, and she may be thinking that perhaps some day she’ll want it too.”

Joan agreed. “I shall be careful what I say. We mustn’t try to hurry her.”

“No, but remember she isn’t a school kid, as Angus thinks.”

“You really are very useful to us, Jenny-Wren!” Joan said, with conviction. “But I wonder if Selma will want to go back to school?”

“After being in business? Perhaps she’ll say she won’t go. I think Angus is all wrong about her age. She may be much more grown-up than he thinks.”

“It makes her still more of a mystery; the unknown quantity. It’s difficult to know how to write,” Joan said.

Jen grinned at her. “You write the letter and I’ll crit. it. What frightful cheek! Don’t take any notice of me. You’ll write a beautiful letter, Joan-Queen.”

“With your help I may manage it,” Joan retorted. “We’ll make it up together this afternoon, in the Abbey.”

“Oh, yes! I’ll love that. I’ll tell you what to say!”

“It will be safest to say as little as possible, so long as we sound cordial and welcoming,” Joan said. “There are so many pitfalls in writing to an unknown quantity!”

“We’ll ask the Mother Superior to help. Anyone can see she’s bursting with wisdom.”

“With experience, anyway,” Joan assented, with a laugh. “There’s nothing young and innocent about her.”

“But she’s very nice! Her experiences have had a—a gentling effect on her.”

“Mellowing is the word,” Joan told her. “All right! We’ll ask the Mother Superior’s advice.”