The Flowering Thorn Read Online Free PDF

lover’s mouth. Or was she even now—for the pause continued—working up a flow of righteous vituperation?
    But Lesley’s voice, when at last it broke the silence, came cool and untroubled.
    â€œBut of course I don’t mind, my dear. I think it’s terribly nice of you to let us come!”
    And now, at the other end of the line, Lesley waited with at least equal interest. The first result, however, was disappointment, for as soon as he got his breath again Mr. Ashton merely cursed the exchange.
    â€œDarling, this ’phone’s so rotten I can’t hear you. What did you say?”
    â€œI said we wouldn’t mind a bit, Toby, and it was terribly nice of you. Because—did Elissa or anyone tell you?—I’ve just adopted a baby boy.”
    This time the pause was so long that she began seriously to wonder whether the shock, at so early an hour, had not been altogether too great. But Mr. Ashton had not actually fainted: to be astonished to the point of swooning implies at least a standard of morality: and this, except in art, the composer of ‘Loving for Two,’ was admittedly without. He was surprised, but not bowled over; in proof of which, and with an undeniable gallantry, he broke the silence on a note of congratulation.
    â€œBut darling, how original of you! Most people always farm them out. Shall you be bringing a bassinette!”
    â€œNot even a pram, my dear. He’s four-and-a-half. How nice you are, Toby!”
    â€œYes, aren’t I?” said Mr. Ashton. “I’ll tell Mrs. Lee. She runs the place, you know—very trustworthy, only mustn’t be hurried. When shall you be along, darling?”
    â€œAbout four o’clock, then,” said Lesley unhesitatingly. “Will that be all right?”
    â€œPerfect, my dear. Oh, and by the way—”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œThere is just a chance I may have to go to Madrid,” said Mr. Ashton.
    2
    The other man to whom Lesley telephoned that morning was her uncle-by-marriage Graham Whittal. Their relations being normally confined to the annual exchange of a ninepenny Christmas card, her summons to a five o’clock rendezvous in St. James’s Park caused him extreme surprise. He continued to feel surprised, moreover, all through the afternoon: for though his niece was obviously wanting something out of him, he could not for his life imagine what. There were always debts, of course, and in these days the young women were probably as bad as the men: but he had the curiously definite impression that she was not the sort that gets into a mess over money. But what then? What else drove the young into the company of their elders? Love? Not in these days! As puzzled as when he sat down there, Mr. Whittal rose from his club window, retrieved his hat; and taking a taxi as far as the Horse Guards, walked slowly to meet his niece in the neighbourhood of the pelicans.
    â€˜And why the pelicans?’ he thought suddenly. Hideous plucked-looking creatures! Ungainly even in flight! But made very good mothers, one heard—or didn’t one, nowadays? So many theories being exploded, it was probably only a matter of years before the earth was flat again! In any case—good mothers or no—hardly a reason why that young woman should wish to contemplate them. And just then he thought he saw her, only she was accompanied by a child.
    â€œHello, Uncle Graham,” said Lesley. “Aren’t these creatures hideous?”
    Mr. Whittal removed his hat.
    â€œGood afternoon, my dear. I was just thinking the same thing. Also that your escorts are usually a good deal older.”
    â€œFour-and-a-half exactly, Uncle. I’d tell him to say good afternoon, only I’m afraid he might not.”
    â€œShyness, or vice?” inquired Mr. Whittal sympathetically.
    â€œOh, vice, I hope. It’s so much more natural.”
    He had the distinct impression that she was carrying