It Happened One Autumn Read Online Free PDF

a face, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
    “Annabelle says that Lord Westcliff is actually much nicer than she originally thought.”
    “She wouldhave to say that, after what happened a few weeks ago.”
    The sisters fell silent, both reflecting on the dramatic events that had occurred recently. As Annabelle and her husband, Simon Hunt, had been touring the locomotive works that they owned along with Lord Westcliff, a horrific explosion had nearly claimed their lives. Lord West-cliff had dashed into the building on a near-suicidal mission to save them, and had brought them both out alive. Understandably, Annabelle now viewed Westcliff in a heroic light, and had actually said recently that she thought his arrogance was rather endearing. Lillian had replied sourly that Annabelle must still be suffering the aftereffects of smoke inhalation.
    “I think we owe Lord Westcliff our gratitude,” Daisy remarked, hopping off the log. “After all, he did save Annabelle’s life, and it’s not as if we have a terribly large array of friends to begin with.”
    “Saving Annabelle was incidental,” Lillian said grumpily. “The only reason that Westcliff risked his life was so he wouldn’t lose a profitable business partner.”
    “Lillian!” Daisy, who was a few steps ahead, turned to view her with surprise. “It’s not like you to be so un-charitable. For heaven’s sake, the earl went into a burning building to rescue our friend and her husband… what more does the man have to do to impress you?”
    “I’m sure Westcliff couldn’t care less about impressing me,” Lillian said. Hearing the sullen note in her own voice, she winced, even as she continued. “The reason I dislike him so, Daisy, is that he so obviously dislikesme. He considers himself to be my superior in every possible way; morally and socially and intellectually… oh, how I long for a way to set him back on his heels!”
    They walked along in silence for a minute, and then Daisy paused to pluck some violets that were growing in thick clusters on the side of the path. “Have you ever considered trying to be nice to Lord Westcliff?” she murmured. Reaching up to tuck the violets into the pinned-up garlands of her hair, she added, “He might surprise you by responding in kind.”
    Lillian shook her head grimly. “No, he would probably say something cutting, and then look very smug and pleased with himself.”
    “I think you’re being too…” Daisy began, and then paused with an absorbed expression. “I hear a sloshing sound. The wishing well must be near!”

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    “Oh, glory,” Lillian said, smiling reluctantly as she followed her younger sister, who was scampering along a sunken lane that was sided by a wet meadow. The swampy meadow was thick with blue and purple asters, and sedge with its bottlebrush flowers, and rustling spikes of goldenrod. Close to the road, there was a heavy thicket of St. John’s wort, with clusters of yellow blossoms that looked like drops of sunlight. Luxuriating in the balmy atmosphere, Lillian slowed her pace and breathed deeply. As she approached the churning wishing well, which was a spring-fed hole in the ground, the air became soft and humid.
    At the beginning of summer, when the wallflowers had visited the wishing well, they had each thrown a pin into its frothing depths, in keeping with local tradition. And Daisy had made some mysterious wish for Annabelle that had later come true.
    “Here it is,” Daisy said, producing a needle-thin metallic shard from her pocket. It was the metal filing that Annabelle had pulled from Westcliff’s shoulder when exploding debris had sent bits of iron flying through the air like grapeshot. Even Lillian, who was hardly disposed to have any sympathy for Westcliff, winced at the sight of the wicked-looking shard. “Annabelle told me to throw this into the well and make the same wish for Lord West-cliff that I