Sister of the Bride Read Online Free PDF

pantry I found no traces of milk. However, I made tea in the ancient china pot I found on the top shelf of the dresser. I was too tired to bother searching further. With a sigh of relief I sat down in an old wooden-backed kitchen chair and sipped the bitter brew. Through an open window I caught a glimpse of the delicate pink blossoms of flowering cherry outlined against a china blue sky. As Bob Pritchard had said, the cottage was a little gem, and I felt a rising happiness as I investigated the twisting and blackened staircase that led to the upper story.
    If only Averil had given me time to settle in and feel my way around at my leisure instead of hurling me into the mysteries of country life without the smallest preparation!
    It was not long before Averil wandered into the kitchen, looking as calm and unruffled as though she hadn’t been quite recently in the throes of feverishly packing.
    She lit a cigarette and filling a mug with tea perched herself on the edge of the table, then made a disgusted moue when she found there was no milk. ‘I’ve sent Rodney to the Ashmore farm for milk. They have an enormous dairy and usually supply us, but I expect Rodney has dawdled: he should have been here ages ago. ’
    She glanced at me with idle curiosity. ‘Sorry, in the excitement of getting Sheila’s telegram I forgot to send a taxi for you. I suppose you managed to get one at the station.’
    ‘No, I didn’t,’ I returned a little acidly. ‘A Doctor Robert Pritchard drove me: we travelled down together.’
    Averil gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘Bob Pritchard! How amusing—especially when he disapproves of me so thoroughly!’
    I gazed at her in astonishment. ‘But why on earth should he disapprove of you?’
    She shrugged and slid from the table. ‘Perhaps I’ve wounded his pride. Who knows? Men are peculiar creatures. Anyway, who cares about Bob Pritchard’s opinions!’ she added contemptuously. ‘If you come up to my room I’ll try to answer some of the questions I can see hovering on your lips.’
    I followed her up the narrow staircase to her room. The sloping beams were blackened with age and the tiny panes of glass in the window under the eaves sparkled in the sun, but I knew it was not Averil’s doing that the valance about the dressing-table was crisp and white and that the old furniture had the rich glow of well-polished chestnuts.
    Averil crossed to the dressing-table and began to rummage in a box of make-up. ‘By the way, Mrs. McAlister from the town comes up every morning and sees to things generally. She does the shopping, which is handy as we’ve no car so far. She’s really an angel, for you know how hopeless I am when it comes to co oking and I simply loathe housework. She leaves everything in apple pie order, so at least you’ll be saved that bother. Anyway, it will give you more time to take care of Rodney. He really is rather a little demon, but I expect he’ll grow out of it in time. By the way,’ she added casually, ‘if I were you I wouldn’t take anything Mrs. McAlister says too seriously: she’s an inveterate gossip and rather prides herself on being a bit of a character: I find it’s best to take her remarks with a pin c h of salt.’ She gave a short laugh, but her eyes met mine in the mirror and I noticed the sharpness of her glance and for a moment I wondered vaguely why Averil of all people should bother to warn me against a loquacious household help.
    Crisp muslin fluttered at the open window, and through it I could see the tops of trees hazed with the pale green of opening buds. Through a gap in the curtain of green I glimpsed tall chimneys and a jumble of roofs. ‘Is that the Ashmore house I see through the trees?’ I asked.
    She swung round on the little petit-point stool before the dressing-table. ‘Yes, but how did you guess?’
    ‘Bob Pritchard was telling me about it.’
    She shrugged and returned to her meticulous application of eye-shadow. ‘I’ll bet he