Secret for a Nightingale Read Online Free PDF

said in a voice with an Indian accent: ‘“The very best durzi in Bombay …” So he tells me and I have every reason to believe him. “
    I accepted the tea and one of the little scented cakes.
    “Khansamah is greatly honoured to make tea for the Colonel’s daughter,” I was told.
    I asked about the children and the ayah.
    “She is very good. The children are angels. They love Ayah and she is so good with them. Sometimes I wonder whether it is wise to leave them with a native … but what can one do? One has so many responsibilities … to one’s husband, to the regiment…”
    At length I thought I could come to the reason for my visit. I reminded her that I wanted to see the ayah.
     
    “But of course. She will be so honoured.”
    I was taken to the nursery where the children were having their afternoon nap. She was sitting there waiting, for she knew I was coming.
    We looked at each other; she had aged a little, which was natural in seven years.
    I ran to her and threw my arms about her. I did not know what Mrs. Freeling thought and I did not care.
    “Ayah,” I said.
    “Missee SuSu.”
    I felt deeply moved to hear the baby version of my name. I said: “I have thought of you often.”
    She nodded. A servant came up and said something in a quiet voice to Mrs. Freeling.
    “Well, I’ll leave you,” she said.
    “I expect you would like to have a little chat.”
    I thought that was tactful of her.
    We sat down still looking at each other. We talked in whispers because of the sleeping children in the next room. She told me how she had missed me. The babalog Freelings were nice but they were not Missee Su-Su. There would never be another like her.
    I told her about life in England, but I could see she found it difficult to visualize. She said there had been troubles throughout India and dangers . and there was more to come. She shook her head.
    “There are murmurings. There are dark secret things … not good.”
    She saw changes in me. I was not the same as the little girl who had left Bombay all those years ago.
    “Seven years is a long time,” I reminded her.
    “It seems long when much happens, short when it does not. Time is in the head.”
    It was wonderful to see her again. I said: “I wish I could take you home with me.”
    Her face was illumined by a dazzling smile.
    “How I wish it. But you do not need an ayah now like the Freeling babalog.”
    “Are you happy here. Ayah dear?”
    She was silent and I felt a twinge of alarm as I saw the
     
    shadow flit across her face. I was puzzled. Mrs. Freeling had not given me the impression that she would interfere in the nursery. I should have thought her ayah would have a free hand; more so than she had had with me, for then there had been Mrs. Fearnley to contend with.
    She would be too loyal to tell tales of her mistress, I knew;
    but I did feel uneasy.
    She sensed this and said: “Nowhere could I be content as I was with you.”
    I was deeply touched, and surprised that she could feel thus when I remembered how difficult I had been at times. Perhaps time was playing its old tricks in making what was past seem more rosy than it had actually been.
    “I shall see you often now that I am here,” I said.
    “I am sure Mrs. Freeling won’t mind my coming.”
    She shook her head.
    “You should not come here, Missee Su-Su. Not too much.”
    “Why ever not?”
    “Better not. We meet. Perhaps I come to you.” She lifted her shoulders.
    “I am just Old Ayah … not yours any more.”
    “What nonsense! You will always be mine. And why shouldn’t I come to see you? I shall insist. I am the Colonel’s Lady now. I shall make the rules.”
    “Not here,” she said.
    “No … no … that not good.”
    I did not pursue the subject because I thought there might be some absurd notion in her mind about the propriety of the Colonel’s daughter visiting her old nurse in another household.
    Her dark eyes were soulful and prophetic.
    “You will go away,” she