Bedelia Read Online Free PDF Page A

he was interested in the view from that particular angle. It took him almost ten minutes to work up the courage to ask if I wasn’t awed by the grandeur of the Rockies.”
    â€œWe might never have met except for an accident. I’d planned to pack-trip with some fellows at the hotel and one of them sprained his ankle and we postponed it, fortunately for me.”
    â€œAnd I,” Bedelia added, “had almost decided not to go to the hotel because the cheapest tea was fifty cents.”
    â€œThe gods were good to us.”
    Charlie’s pious pleasure and Bedelia’s nervous assurance annoyed Ellen. The conversation seemed natural, like a scene rehearsed over and over again by zealous actors. Ellen complained, because there was nothing else to fuss about, that the room was too hot. “It’s unbearable in here. Can’t you do something about it, Charlie?”
    Ellen’s shrillness punctured Charlie’s mood. He had dwelt for those few seconds among the peaks of the Rockies. He went grumpily to turn off the heat. Then he fetched his mother’s white Angora shawl for Bedelia.
    â€œHow thoughtful, darling. But you needn’t have bothered. I’m not cold.”
    â€œWe must be careful now,” Charlie said.
    Bedelia shook her head at him.
    â€œWhat’s the matter? Is Bedelia pregnant?” asked Abbie, who had begun to affect frankness.
    â€œExcuse me,” Bedelia said, pushed back her chair and hurried through the swinging door to the kitchen.
    â€œDid I say something wrong?” Abbie was puzzled. “What’s so shocking about babies when people are married?”
    â€œDo hush up,” Ellen said.
    â€œShe’s sensitive since she lost the last one,” Charlie explained. “She thinks talking about it might bring bad luck.”
    â€œSuperstition,” snapped Ellen, and immediately regretted it.
    â€œWe can’t all be as rational as you, my dear.”
    Bedelia returned with the coffee urn. Mary followed with cups, cream and sugar.
    Every time Bedelia served coffee, she enjoyed turning the little faucet on the urn, and Charlie enjoyed the sight of her childlike pleasure. She was composed again, gracious, the charming hostess. “How do you take your coffee, cream, and sugar, one lump or two?”
    â€œHow nice you look today, Mary. Is that a new cap?” Ben asked as the young hired girl brought his coffee.
    Mary blushed and giggled as she hurried through the swinging door.
    â€œYou mustn’t tease her, please, Ben,” whispered Bedelia.
    â€œI wasn’t teasing. She’s a pretty girl.”
    â€œHe was driving into town one Thursday when she was off,” Bedelia said, “so he drove her in and treated her to an ice cream soda. She’s got a crush on him.”
    â€œMary, too,” thought Ellen, and glanced toward Abbie to see if she recognized this as another of his predatory habits.
    But Abbie was flirting with Ben. “That doesn’t leave us older girls much chance, does it? With Mary’s simple ways and unspoiled charms, she must be very pleasing to a city man.”
    â€œI haven’t shown her my paintings.”
    â€œWhy should you?” asked Bedelia.
    â€œI’ve asked you to look at them, haven’t I? You’re the sort of woman who couldn’t possibly have had tea with a man and not know how he paints.”
    Ellen tried to look unconcerned, but Abbie accepted the challenge boldly. “What sort of painting do you do? Don’t tell me you’re a Cubist.”
    â€œWon’t you come and see? A friend of mine is coming from the West on Friday and Charlie and Bedelia are having dinner at my house. Perhaps you girls would come, too.”
    â€œWe’d adore it,” Abbie said before Ellen had time to offer an excuse.
    Afterward they sat in the small room, which had been known for generations as “your father’s father’s study,” but