Just William Read Online Free PDF Page B

opened his lips to say something, anything to drown that horrible voice, but nothing would come. Miss Cannon was obviously listening to William.
    ‘Is no one else ever to speak to her?’ The sibilant whisper, raised in indignant appeal, filled all the room. ‘Jus’ ’cause Robert’s fell in love with
her?’
    The horror of the moment haunted Robert’s nights and days for weeks to come.
    Mrs Brown coughed hastily and began to describe at unnecessary length the ravages of the caterpillars upon her husband’s favourite rose tree.
    William withdrew with dignity to the garden a minute later and Miss Cannon rose from the sofa.
    ‘I must be going, I’m afraid,’ she said with a smile.
    Robert, anguished and overpowered, rose slowly.
    ‘You most come again some time,’ he said weakly but with passion undaunted.
    ‘I will,’ she said. ‘I’m longing to see more of William. I adore William!’
    They comforted Robert’s wounded feelings as best they could, but it was Ethel who devised the plan that finally cheered him. She suggested a picnic on the following
Thursday, which happened to be Robert’s birthday and incidentally the last day of Miss Cannon’s visit, and the picnic party was to consist of Robert, Ethel, Mrs Clive and Miss Cannon,
and William was not even to be told where it was to be. The invitation was sent that evening and Robert spent the week dreaming of picnic lunches and suggesting impossible dainties of which the
cook had never heard. It was not until she threatened to give notice that he reluctantly agreed to leave the arrangements to her. He sent his white flannels (which were perfectly clean) to the
laundry with a note attached, hinting darkly at legal proceedings if they were not sent back, spotless, by Thursday morning. He went about with an expression of set and solemn purpose upon his
frowning countenance. William he utterly ignored. He bought a book of poems at a second-hand bookshop and kept them on the table by his bed.
    They saw nothing of Miss Cannon in the interval, but Thursday dawned bright and clear, and Robert’s anxious spirits rose. He was presented with a watch and chain by his father and with a
bicycle by his mother and a tin of toffee (given not without ulterior motive) by William.
    They met Mrs Clive and Miss Cannon at the station and took tickets to a village a few miles away whence they had decided to walk to a shady spot on the riverbank.
    William’s dignity was slightly offended by his pointed exclusion from the party, but he had resigned himself to it, and spent the first part of the morning in the character of Chief Red
Hand among the rhododendron bushes. He had added an ostrich feather found in Ethel’s room to his head-dress, and used almost a whole cork on his face. He wore the doormat pinned to his
shoulders.
    After melting some treacle toffee in rainwater over his smoking fire, adding orange juice and drinking the resulting liquid, he tired of the game and wandered upstairs to Robert’s bedroom
to inspect his birthday presents. The tin of toffee was on the table by Robert’s bed. William took one or two as a matter of course and began to read the love poems. He was horrified a few
minutes later to see the tin empty, but he fastened the lid with a sigh, wondering if Robert would guess who had eaten them. He was afraid he would. Anyway he’d given him them. And anyway, he
hadn’t known he was eating them.
    He then went to the dressing-table and tried on the watch and chain at various angles and with various postures. He finally resisted the temptation to wear them for the rest of the morning and
replaced them on the dressing-table.
    Then he wandered downstairs and round to the shed, where Robert’s new bicycle stood in all its glory. It was shining and spotless and William gazed at it in awe and admiration. He came to
the conclusion that he could do it no possible harm by leading it carefully round the house. Encouraged by the fact that Mrs Brown