Hannah's Dream Read Online Free PDF Page B

a tramp to stay in her carriage house.  Unbeknown to her new neighbors, that is until she mentioned it to Horace Beecham, in the years before moving to New Beach, Margaret had sponsored several artists.  To Margaret, the young man, Pierre Rousseau, was not only down on his luck, but a refined gentleman and artist, in need of a leg up to return to his rightful position in society.
    As she sat at her dining table, Margaret sipped her tea and thought about a drawing Pierre had done.  She had asked him to give her an example of his work so she, in turn, could show it to a friend in Long Branch.  Someone told her of an artist colony in Point Pleasant, and she was considering renting a bungalow there during the summer months so he could be with other artists who would help him perfect his craft.  She hadn't mentioned this to him yet since she hadn't decided if she wanted him to go.  He was charming and a good listener, and Margaret enjoyed his company.
    He had been living in the carriage house for a month.  He had gained weight and looked quite handsome in his new clothes Margaret had custom-tailored for him.  Most people thought she was having an affair with the younger man, but Margaret had no interest in sex anymore.  She loved her husband, and was content with her life.  She did not want or need the romantic attentions of a younger man.  She did, however, like witty conversation and intelligent discussions about art, and Pierre was able to provide her with both.
    There were French doors in the dining room that led to a side porch, and she could see Pierre talking to George, her gardener.  She couldn't hear the conversation, but by the look on George's face, it wasn't congenial.  Margaret liked George and didn't want to lose him, but if he couldn't get along with Pierre he would have to be replaced.
    Pierre came through the French doors and smiled at Margaret.  She was dressed for the day in a silk lilac bodice and skirt, and her long, brown hair had been fashioned in a Gibson Girl style by her maid, Jenny, a woman who had worked for her for twenty years.  Margaret's hair was streaked with gray, and her face slightly wrinkled around her mouth and her eyes.  But her blue eyes twinkled with mirth as Pierre entered the room.
    "Good morning," he said.
    His French accent pleased Margaret as it reminded her of the summer she spent in Paris with her husband.
    "Good morning," she replied.  "I saw you talking to George.  Is there a problem?"
    Jean-Pierre took his seat on Margaret's left-hand side.
    "He thought I had trampled his roses."
    "Why on Earth would he think that?"
    "He is a fool.  Everything that goes wrong, he blames me."
    Margaret studied Pierre's face.  She was no fool; she knew there was more to the story than this, but she chose to let it go.
    "I spoke to John Taylor yesterday," she said.
    John Taylor was the head of the school board.  Margaret wanted the board members to hire Pierre as an art teacher.  She was willing to build a new classroom in the high school if they would give Pierre a job.  Art wasn't being taught there, and Margaret wanted to introduce the young people of New Beach to the finer things in life.
    "And what did Mr. Taylor say?"
    "He said they would take it under advisement.  That means they will think about it."
    "They will never hire me.  They all think I am a gigolo."
    "Oh, I think they will hire you.  They like the idea of a new classroom, and I'll make sure you have a contract so they can't just let you go once they have it."
    "I am grateful for the things you've done, but this is too much," said Pierre.
    "Poppycock.  It's not just for you; it's for the children of this town.  They need to know there is more to life than reading and writing.  The world is changing."
    Pierre reached out and placed his hand on hers.  Margaret pulled it away.  He frowned, and she smiled.
    "I'd prefer you didn't touch me, Pierre.  I told you at the beginning I wasn't interested in that type