(11/13) Celebrations at Thrush Green Read Online Free PDF
Author: Miss Read
Would she and Robert Wilberforce, who sounded such a quiet fellow on the telephone, take a dislike to each other? Would she demand Nathaniel's letters for herself as one of the family?
With such conjectures poor Charles tortured himself until Dimity, ever solicitous, asked him outright what was troubling him.
After some hesitation Charles admitted that he had one or two qualms about the proposed dinner party.
Dimity, always practical, tried to put his mind at ease. 'Well, it's all arranged now, whether she comes or not, and really one must consider Harold's feelings. He would love to meet Dulcie, if that turns out to be possible, and both she and Mr Wilberforce are bound to be civilized people and won't make trouble under our roof. Do stop worrying, Charles dear. I'm sure it will be a very cheerful little party.'
'I do wish she would reply,' said Charles, only partially content.
'She may have moved from that address,' said Dimity, 'or be ill, or looking after someone else.'
'I realize that,' nodded Charles, 'but I just wish we had heard ,' he added piteously.
That same evening the telephone rang as he and Dimity were finishing a modest supper of cauliflower cheese.
Charles went to the hall to answer it, and took a long time in doing so.
Dimity stacked the dishes in the sink, set out two coffee cups, then settled herself at the kitchen table. She only hoped that the caller was not some troubled parishioner who was demanding Charles's immediate support and comfort. If so, she knew Charles would go at once to offer succour.
He returned beaming, and Dimity felt relief. At least he had not been called upon to take himself out into the dismal November night. She began to make the coffee.
'It was Dulcie Mulloy. Very apologetic for not getting in touch before, but she's been abroad on business. Hamburg or Frankfurt—one of those edible German towns—and she only got back today to find our letter.'
'And can she come?'
'She said she'd love to. She is going on to stay with friends in Wiltshire that night, but can come to dinner.'
'That is good news,' said Dimity, noticing the pleased expression on her husband's face.
'She sounds quite charming,' said Charles. 'Very soft voice. Very ladylike.'
Dimity hid her amusement. How often, these days, did you hear of anyone being 'ladylike'?
But then Charles was not of these days, she thought thankfully. 'So now you are happy?' she said, putting his coffee before him.
'I'm always happy with you,' said Charles.
3. A Memorable Evening
T HE CHRISTMAS street decorations began to go up in Lulling High Street at the start of December. Council men, perched on ladders, strung electric bulbs among the lime trees, and banners across the highway, causing even more traffic chaos than usual, and a number of distinctly unchristian comments from pedestrians stepping round bags of tools and coils of electric flex.
The shops were decking their windows with seasonal themes. Reindeer romped improbably round the Lulling Gas offices among refrigerators and ovens. Father Christmas sat on his sleigh amidst satin underwear and flimsy nightgowns in the window of Lulling's most prestigious draper's shop, and at the new florist's a gigantic silver and white arrangement of honesty, silvered pine cones and white Christmas roses evoked much admiration from the passers by.
At the Fuchsia Bush, Nelly Piggott and her staff had been busy preparing Christmas cakes and the results of their skill stood proudly in the window of that establishment. Fringed collars of scarlet and gold encircled the snowy wares, and red satin ribbon was draped tastefully across the windowpane to add even more attraction to the goods on display.
The scene at Thrush Green was much less colourful, although Mr Jones, the landlord of the Two Pheasants, had a Christmas tree standing in a tub outside the door of his hostelry, and this was decked with miniature light bulbs which made a brave show after dark.
But in all the houses around
With such conjectures poor Charles tortured himself until Dimity, ever solicitous, asked him outright what was troubling him.
After some hesitation Charles admitted that he had one or two qualms about the proposed dinner party.
Dimity, always practical, tried to put his mind at ease. 'Well, it's all arranged now, whether she comes or not, and really one must consider Harold's feelings. He would love to meet Dulcie, if that turns out to be possible, and both she and Mr Wilberforce are bound to be civilized people and won't make trouble under our roof. Do stop worrying, Charles dear. I'm sure it will be a very cheerful little party.'
'I do wish she would reply,' said Charles, only partially content.
'She may have moved from that address,' said Dimity, 'or be ill, or looking after someone else.'
'I realize that,' nodded Charles, 'but I just wish we had heard ,' he added piteously.
That same evening the telephone rang as he and Dimity were finishing a modest supper of cauliflower cheese.
Charles went to the hall to answer it, and took a long time in doing so.
Dimity stacked the dishes in the sink, set out two coffee cups, then settled herself at the kitchen table. She only hoped that the caller was not some troubled parishioner who was demanding Charles's immediate support and comfort. If so, she knew Charles would go at once to offer succour.
He returned beaming, and Dimity felt relief. At least he had not been called upon to take himself out into the dismal November night. She began to make the coffee.
'It was Dulcie Mulloy. Very apologetic for not getting in touch before, but she's been abroad on business. Hamburg or Frankfurt—one of those edible German towns—and she only got back today to find our letter.'
'And can she come?'
'She said she'd love to. She is going on to stay with friends in Wiltshire that night, but can come to dinner.'
'That is good news,' said Dimity, noticing the pleased expression on her husband's face.
'She sounds quite charming,' said Charles. 'Very soft voice. Very ladylike.'
Dimity hid her amusement. How often, these days, did you hear of anyone being 'ladylike'?
But then Charles was not of these days, she thought thankfully. 'So now you are happy?' she said, putting his coffee before him.
'I'm always happy with you,' said Charles.
3. A Memorable Evening
T HE CHRISTMAS street decorations began to go up in Lulling High Street at the start of December. Council men, perched on ladders, strung electric bulbs among the lime trees, and banners across the highway, causing even more traffic chaos than usual, and a number of distinctly unchristian comments from pedestrians stepping round bags of tools and coils of electric flex.
The shops were decking their windows with seasonal themes. Reindeer romped improbably round the Lulling Gas offices among refrigerators and ovens. Father Christmas sat on his sleigh amidst satin underwear and flimsy nightgowns in the window of Lulling's most prestigious draper's shop, and at the new florist's a gigantic silver and white arrangement of honesty, silvered pine cones and white Christmas roses evoked much admiration from the passers by.
At the Fuchsia Bush, Nelly Piggott and her staff had been busy preparing Christmas cakes and the results of their skill stood proudly in the window of that establishment. Fringed collars of scarlet and gold encircled the snowy wares, and red satin ribbon was draped tastefully across the windowpane to add even more attraction to the goods on display.
The scene at Thrush Green was much less colourful, although Mr Jones, the landlord of the Two Pheasants, had a Christmas tree standing in a tub outside the door of his hostelry, and this was decked with miniature light bulbs which made a brave show after dark.
But in all the houses around
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