The Chain of Destiny Read Online Free PDF Page A

when the postman pushed several letters through the letterbox. There were still outstanding matters arising from her aunt’s death and, trivial though they were, she had dealt with them carefully; she leafed through the little bundleto discover most of them were receipts of the small debts she had paid, but the last letter was addressed in a spidery hand on thick notepaper and bore the Marlborough postmark.
    Suzannah opened it slowly. The letter inside was brief and written in the same spidery hand, informing her that her application had been received and, since her references were satisfactory, would she be good enough to go to the above address for an interview in two days time? Her expenses would be paid. The letter was signed by Editha Manbrook, an elderly lady from the look of her handwriting, which, while elegant in style, was decidedly wavery.
    Suzannah studied the address on the letter: Ramsbourne House, Ramsbourne St Michael. A village, if she remembered rightly, between Marlborough and Avebury. She could get a bus to Marlborough and probably a local bus to the village, which was only a few miles further on.
    She went to Mrs Coffin’s shop after breakfast, told her the good news and posted her reply, and then hurried back to the lodge to worry over her wardrobe. There wasn’t all that much to worry about. It would have to be her tweed suit, no longer new, but with a good press it would pass muster; it was grey herringbone and did nothing to improve her looks, but on the other hand she considered that it made her look sober and serious, two attributes which would surely count when it came to selecting a candidate for the job? There was a grey beret to go with the suit, and a pair of wellbrushed black shoes and her good leather handbag and gloves. She tried them all on to make sure that they looked all right, with Horace for an audience.
    The appointment was for two o’clock; she had anearly lunch, told Horace to be good while she was away, and caught the bus to Marlborough. There was a local bus going to Avebury several times a day and she caught it without trouble, arriving at Ramsbourne St Michael with time enough to enquire where Ramsbourne House was and then walk for ten minutes or so to the big gates at the end of a country lane.
    The drive was a short one, running in a semicircle between shrubs, and it opened out before a pleasant Regency house, painted white and with wide sash-windows. The drive disappeared round one side, but Suzannah went to the canopied porch and rang the bell.
    An elderly maid opened the door and Suzannah said, ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have come to this door—I’ve come for an appointment about a job…’
    The woman smiled and ushered her inside. ‘That’s right, miss, I’ll show you where you can wait.’
    She opened a door to one side of the entrance hall and Suzannah went past her into a pleasant room with wide windows overlooking the side of the house. She paused only for a moment, and then sat down in the nearest chair.
    She hoped that her surprise hadn’t shown too clearly upon her face; it had been foolish of her to suppose that she would be the only person after the job. She murmured a rather belated good afternoon and took a surreptitious stock of the other occupants of the room. There were four of them, and each of them had the look of a woman who was skilled at her work and knew it. One of them said loudly now, ‘There is no mention of shorthand and typing, but I imagine it will be an absolute must for this kind of job.’ The others agreed and Suzannah’s heart sank into her shoes. Her journey was a waste of time; she could have put her advertisement in the paper three days ago and perhaps by nowshe would have had some replies; time was running out… She checked her thoughts; fussing wasn’t going to help. She watched the other young women go in one after another until she sat alone, and presently the last