Island in the Dawn Read Online Free PDF Page B

her assessment of the value of the contents of the only one of the public rooms they had so far seen in the house. Beauty and value went hand in hand in Cassandra’s estimate of things. She would never be entirely satisfied with beauty without value.
    Felicity had felt as if her whole being was stimulated by the beauty of the island from the moment she first caught sight of it, and she knew that in the next few days she would do her utmost to explore it. This delightful house was only on the fringe of it, as it were. There must be other enchanting secrets that it held.
    All at once, as the shimmer on the lawns grew brighter, a slight inertia, induced by the kind of breakfast it would be impossible not to enjoy and the knowledge that she could now relax, took a kind of hold of her. She felt that it would be delightful to sample the resistant properties of the attractive-looking bed in her own room. The little berth in the steamer had been both hot and uncomfortable, and she didn’t suppose she had slept a wink all night. Before that there had been all the excitement of leaving London and getting in to Kingston. Cassandra hadn’t wanted to waste any time on the journey, and there had been no chance to relax between catching trains and planes and steamers, and so forth. It had been Felicity’s task to ensure that the baggage was safe, and that none of it was left behind during the various halts. And all the details of the journey had been her particular nightmare. When Cassandra paid out a salary she expected people to work for it, and it was a nightmare arranging a journey during which Cassandra would insist on certain seats during the various methods of transport, and decline to be inconvenienced in any way.
    If Felicity had tripped up in her reservations there would have been a petulant outburst to cope with, and she was only just beginning to realize that Cassandra could be very petulant indeed. Felicity’s early gratitude for being given a job was beginning to evaporate a little in the cold knowledge that much was expected of her now that she had accepted that job.
    Still, she thought sleepily — and she was rather horrified to find herself on the very verge of yawning openly — she was lucky to be where she was. But for Cassandra she would never have tasted such ambrosial melon as that which she had just enjoyed. Neither would she have quaffed such nectar in the way of coffee the as yet unmet cook — probably as ebony-faced as Florence since apparently he was Florence’s husband, and went by the pleasing name of Moses — had prepared in an unseen kitchen, and sent to the bright oasis the table on the veranda represented. Under her heavy lids Felicity admired the china afresh — surely it was English Minton? The silver had a sparkle that made her want to blink, and the cloth itself was so white that — that ...
    She caught her host’s blue eyes fixed on her — and the little shock of realizing that he had once more removed his glasses brought her awake again. She felt the color flood her face and neck, and sat painfully upright as those blue eyes smiled, understandingly, and with a certain engaging humor.
    “I think,” he said, “you would do well to return to your room, Miss Harding, and have a little rest. In fact, there is no reason why you should appear outside it again until this evening, when it will be cooler. Florence will bring you anything you want to your room, you know, and you must be very tired after your journey!”
    “Nonsense!” Cassandra exclaimed, quite sharply. She was lying back in her own chair and enjoying one of her host’s cigarettes with a feeling of utter relaxation, and no desire at all to forgo his company, and the fascination his profile was beginning to exercise over her. She was used to men who succumbed to her charms immediately, but one who was polite but placidly indifferent and didn’t appear to be putting hims elf out at all, was new in her experience. “Why should