Gillespie and I Read Online Free PDF Page A

with the piano, do we?’
    â€˜Och now,’ said Elspeth. ‘She’ll play quietly—won’t you, dear?’ Sibyl nodded, and Annie sank back down, with a sigh. ‘Well, I suppose—’
    Elspeth beamed at her granddaughter who, in need of no encouragement, had already begun to fumble and peep her way through a rudimentary hymn. I do not claim to know its title, but like most of its kind it expressed, over and over, naught but patience for this life and triumph in the next. From time to time, amongst the wrong notes, Sibyl cast intense glances at us, over her shoulder, to check that we were paying heed. Annie appeared to be listening with her head on one side, as she rebuttoned her bodice. Rose leaned against her mother’s skirts, watching her older sister, wide-eyed, as though she were a specimen. The young woman at the window had taken out a mirror and was rearranging her hair, while Elspeth smiled proudly at her granddaughter and hummed along, here and there, with the melody.
    As the hymn progressed, I took the opportunity to glance around the room. This was not exactly a household of paupers, but judging from the shabby, faded look of the furnishings, the Gillespie family was not, by any means, flourishing. The children’s clothes were clean, but ill-fitting, and oft-mended; the oilcloth on the table was worn thin in places; the cups and saucers were chipped and cracked. Atop the piano, next to the stack of sheet music, I noticed, for the first time, a gentleman’s straw boater, with a narrow brim, and the low crown wrapped around with a glossy striped ribbon in shades of blue and green: a rather lovely hat, which, presumably, belonged to Annie’s husband. He had left it there the last time he had been in this room, perhaps. Had he removed it in order to sit down and play? Or had he set it on top of the piano only in passing?
    Such were the idle thoughts that occupied my mind until—at last—the hymn came to a faltering conclusion. We applauded, and Sibyl grinned, baring recently acquired little teeth so gap-ridden and misaligned that the effect was somewhat eerie and vampirish.
    â€˜Bravo!’ cried Elspeth. I braced myself against the possibility that she might suggest we hear another but, thankfully, she began to lay out cups and saucers, saying: ‘That’s enough now, Sibyl, Granny’s tea will be stewed.’ The child continued to tinkle at the keys, while Elspeth picked up the teapot and addressed me. ‘Now, dear Herriet! You must tell us all about yourself. I want to know every single detail about the person who saved my life . Milk? Sugar?’
    â€˜Yes, milk please. And sugar.’
    â€˜Ah—a sweet tooth, like myself. But you are so slender, Herriet, so elegant. Do you avoid starchy foods at all? They are my downfall. Rock cake? Shortbread?’
    â€˜Shortbread, if you please. As for starchy foods, I certainly don’t avoid them. If the truth were known, just between ourselves, I practically exist on biscuits.’
    Elspeth admonished me with a wag of her finger. ‘That sweet tooth of yours! Now, in that case, I do hope you’ll have a lemon-curd tart. Rose and I baked them especially for your visit.’
    Something must have gone amiss in the preparation, because the tarts were so blistered and misshapen that they bore closer resemblance to a cluster of purulent sores than to a selection of pâtisserie . However, since I had no desire to hurt anyone’s feelings, I selected the least alarming tart, and pronounced it ‘delicious’.
    Elspeth smiled at the young woman, who had approached the table, and was helping to serve tea. ‘You and Mabel have been introduced, I presume? This is Mabel, my daughter, recently returned from America.’
    â€˜Ah—America,’ I said and—quickly grasping this straw before it could be whisked away in Elspeth’s beak—I turned to Mabel. ‘How