Sister of the Housemaster Read Online Free PDF Page A

everybody has gone quite mad about the man, ” said Ingrid indifferently.
    “ Not you, apparently. Ah well, perhaps your friends in London are all handsome and clever and attractive. He struck me as something special. ”
    No, thought Ingrid, I just won ’ t run with the herd. I expect he takes it as a foregone conclusion that everybody will fall under his enchantment. Well, I won ’ t.
    When the guests had gone, and she had helped Sylvia to bed, she did not go back to the living - room where Arnold and Patrick were talking together, but went to her own room. She did rather wish she had been at the lecture, so that she might have judged it for herself, but her chief feeling was one of relief that the evening had gone off successfully, and with no more thought for the brilliant aircraft designer, she fell asleep.
    Next morning she woke at her usual early hour, put on a dress of warm crimson corduroy, covered it with a small apron, and cooked her breakfast in the kitchen. Sylvia, who did not choose to be disturbed so early, would have hers in bed later, and it was Ingrid ’ s plan to lay the small table by the living-room window for Patrick ’ s meal. Arnold came into the kitchen before leaving, thanked her for her part in the entertainment the previous evening, kissed her cheek, told her she looked a delight, and went away. Ingrid was just pouring out her coffee when the kitchen door opened, and Patrick ’ s head appeared round it.
    “ Ah, good morning, ” h e said, opening the door wider.
    “ Good morning, ” said Ingrid.
    “ May I come in ? ”
    “ Of course. ”
    Bother the man, she thought. Why must he come in at the very moment when she was about to begin to eat ? Why could he not have waited until his table was laid and she was free to cook for him? Now she must put hers aside and see to his needs.
    “ I hope I ’ m not being very inconvenient, ” he said, “ coming too early or too late. ”
    “ Not at all, ” lied Ingrid politely.
    “ The coffee smells delicious. ”
    He found her rather stiff and wondered if she was annoyed at the arrival of an unexpected guest.
    “ Will you have some while I cook your, breakfast? ” asked Ingrid, bringing another cup and saucer. “ I will set the table in the living-room for you. ”
    “ Don ’ t bother to do that. Can ’ t I have my breakfast here? Where do you have yours? ”
    “ Here, ” she said.
    “ Then I will too. Why, yours is ready, and I ’ m keeping you from it. You sit down and have it, and I ’ ll cook for myself. ”
    “ Certainly not, ” said Ingrid.
    He smiled at her. A most charming smile, but Ingrid was proof against it. She, who was ordinarily so open and friendly, meeting people half-way, could only think that he turned on the charm as if he were turning on a tap. He expected her to be subjugated, expected her to expand into friendliness simply because he chose to smile at her. She was ruffled in a way that was most unusual for her.
    “ But I assure you I can cook, ” he said. “ I ’ ve often had to do it for myself in most out-of-the-way corners of the world, and not with a gleaming cooker and pots and pans either. ”
    He insisted that she should sit down and start her breakfast. He dealt with eggs and bacon competently, made more toast, and came to join her at the table.
    “ Have we enough coffee? ” he asked.
    “ I think so. ”
    “ Good. ” He sat down opposite her, and smiled across the blue-checked gingham cloth. “ Now, ” he said, “ we can begin to be acquainted. It ’ s surprising that we never met before, with your brother married to my sister. ”
    “ Yes, isn ’ t it? ” said Ingrid politely.
    “ It ’ s very good of you to come down and look after Sylvia. I ’ m afraid she has had rather a bad time lately. ”
    “ Yes, she ’ s been trying to carry on for too long. ” He could not thaw her. He wondered if she was always so diff ic ult. Was she shy? Or naturally frigid? Or simply annoyed that, to