The girl in the blue dress (4 page)

"Why, how sweet of you, " Madeleine
exclaimed, while her elder sister smiled and said nothing.

"I'm sure you'll please me, " Toni told
her. "Especially if you'll make me a party dress to wear at Wendy Tulley's
party. It's next month and I've absolutely nothing, "

"All right, Toni. We'll discuss
that later, " interrupted her mother. "When could you start work.
Miss
Farman?"

"As soon as you like."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes. Tomorrow would be excellent. There is
–a bus from Binwick soon after half-past eight. I could be here before
ten, if that would suit you."

"Would you be available, Sara?" Her
mother turned
to her.

"Yes, of course, " Sara said. And again
Beverley had the queer impression that she was not really interested, and also
that she had all the time in the world hanging on her beautiful hands.

"Well, that's fine." Mrs. Wayne stood up,
with an air of decision. "Toni, will you take Miss Farman downstairs to
the little drawing-room, and I'll have some tea sent in. If you'll excuse me, Miss
Farman, I have to put through a couple of telephone calls."

Toni seemed very pleased to have social care of the
visitor for a short while, and waited rather impatiently while the other two
girls said a pleasant good-bye. Then she conducted Beverley downstairs again to
a charming room which looked over a fine, but rather neglected garden.

Beverley was secretly somewhat surprised to be
treated so much more as a visitor than an employee. But she guessed that this
might be a rather special occasion, due possibly to the connection with Miss
Popplejohn and the fact that her grandfather, had been Vicar of St.
Stephen-in-the-Woods. No doubt when she was actually working at the house, her
meals would be brought to her on a tray in the schoolroom.

"Do you like going out and sewing for
people?" Toni enquired, hopping up and down on one foot and regarding
Beverley with interest.

"I think I shall like coming out and sewing
for
you, " Beverley told her, not
choosing to say that this
was the first time she had done such a thing.
"It's always fun doing clothes for a wedding."

"Is it? Why?"

"Oh, well, there is something so romantic and
picturesque about a wedding, I suppose. And one
tries to have everything just as beautiful as it can be,
for such
an occasion. Your sister will make a lovely
bride."

"Ye-es. She's going to marry
Franklin Lowell, you know. Have you heard of him?" Toni enquired.

"Just his name."

"He's very rich."

"Is he?" said Beverley, a
little uncomfortably.

"Yes. That's him, over there." Toni
pointed to a photograph which stood on top of a bureau near the window, and
Beverley, thinking to keep this conversation from becoming any more personal, went
over to examine it.

The photograph was of a man in shirt and riding
breeches, and Beverley immediately had the most overwhelming impression of
someone tall and strong and with immense vitality. He was looking, straight out
of the photograph and smiling slightly, in a not entirely reassuring manner.

"He looks, quite a personality, "
Beverley said as non-committally as possible. But she immediately
had Toni at her elbow, ready to continue the
subject.

"Do you think so? Would you like to marry
him?"

"Well, " Beverley was rather startled by
the unexpected question, posed in a perfectly serious manner, "I can't say
he's my type, exactly. But, "

"If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll tell
you a
deadly secret, " Toni interrupted,
in a mysterious but
entirely friendly manner.

"But I don't want to hear any deadly secrets, "
Beverley began firmly.

Toni, however, didn't seem to pay much attention to
that. The secret had just suddenly got too big for her and she was going to
tell it or burst.

"It's about Sara, "
she said
. "Franklin
isn't her
type either. She doesn't want to marry him a bit."

"You mustn't tell me such things! It isn't my
business and it isn't your business either, " Beverley exclaimed sharply.

"But I have to tell someone because I'm
worried."
And suddenly big
tears stood in Toni's bright eyes. "I can't tell anyone in the family, because
they all want her to marry Franklin who's so rich. But she really wants to many
quite a poor man. He's an artist, and his name's Geoffrey Revian, "

FOR PERHAPS two seconds Beverley stared at the little
girl in appalled silence. Then, now entirely unheeding of the fact that one
simply did not encourage a child to discuss other people's private affairs she
said, a trifle hoarsely, "Di-did you say, Geoffrey Revian?"

"Yes." Toni nodded emphatically. "He
painted a portrait of Sara, and she got fond of him and, "

"But how do you know? I mean, oh, we shouldn't
be talking about this at all. It, it isn't our business, " stammered
Beverley distractedly, as her
natural sense
of integrity returned to her. "You mustn't
tell me your sister's
private affairs. I am a stranger
and, "

"That's why I told you, " Toni explained
simply.

"But there's nothing I can do about it! Even
if it concerned me. Which it does not, " Beverley said quickly. And then, for
a bitter moment, she thought of Geoffrey, and how deeply this really did concern
her.

"No. I don't expect there's anything that
anyone
can do about it, "
agreed Toni mournfully. "I expect Sara will just marry Franklin and
gradually die of a broken heart."

"Nonsense. No one does that in real life, "
Beverley asserted, as reassuringly as she could. Though the almost physical ache
which she seemed to feel in the region of her own heart made her wonder if this
were quite true.

"Anyway, I feel better now I've told
you." Toni seemed immensely relieved and cheered suddenly. Almost as
though she had literally shifted her dreadful burden to Beverley.

"Well, I'm glad of that." Beverley spoke
almost absently. "But, " wrong though it was, she knew, to continue
the subject, there was one question she simply had to ask, "how can you
possibly be sure
that you have this right?
You may have made some mistake, you know. Your sister might have liked the other
man once, but decided later that she wanted to marry Mr. Lowell. Lots of girls
do that."

She was even slightly cheered herself by the
presentation of this theory. But Toni shook her dark head determinedly.

"Not Sara."

"But you can't be sure!" "Yes, I
can." Toni seemed rather affronted at having her version of the story
called in question. "She
knew him quite
a while before Franklin came
along, "

"While I was away in London!" thought
Beverley with a pang.

And then, after she got engaged, Franklin
wanted a portrait of her for his house, and he
said he knew a good artist in the district, and it turned
put to be this
Geoffrey Revian.

'What did you
say?"

"Nothing, " said Beverley helplessly, unable
now even to attempt to stop this flood of chilling information.

"Well, he used to come here to paint her, and
they
got more friendly still, I guess. And
one day I went in and he had his arms round her and she was crying and, "

"Don't tell me any more! I won't hear any more,
"
cried Beverley angrily. "If you
must tell someone, you had better tell your mother, or your other sister.
It's
more their affair than mine."

"But I couldn't tell them, " Toni
explained patiently.
"They all want
Sara to marry Franklin, because then there won't have to be a mortgage on the
house and all the bills will get paid, and Madeleine will have a season in
London. And so shall I, I suppose, when the time comes, " she added
reflectively. "Though I would rather do without the season and have Sara
marry
whoever she really wants."

This was so palpably true, in a naive way, that
Beverley felt her heart warm to the little girl, in
spite
of the fact that she seemed to have a terrifying talent for
acquiring information which she was supposed
not
to know.

"Well, perhaps, " Beverley sighed, but
felt she must offer some form of comfort to the child, "perhaps everything
will work out all right, in the end.

It's surprising how often one worries about things that
never happen."

"You mean, " Toni looked hopeful, .
"that Sara may never marry Franklin, after all? that even now she might
marry this Geoffrey Revian instead?"

"No!" Beverley spoke sharply, because
this suggestion hurt quite unbearably. "I meant that she may well find she
is fond of, of her fiancé, and that in actual fact he is the man she wants, after
all."

Toni looked at Beverley in unconvinced silence for a
moment. Then she said reflectively, "You haven't seen Franklin yet, have
you?"

"N-no." Beverley was oddly impressed by
the tone. "But the photograph doesn't suggest that he is a,
an unpleasant person in any way."

"Oh, no. Not unpleasant, " Toni conceded.
"In
fact, he is rather nice, and very
generous. But he is
kind of, overwhelming. There isn't much room for
anyone else when he is around."

In spite of herself, Beverley glanced at the
photograph once more, and she could not help thinking that, for a little girl, Toni
had a good deal of natural judgment.

Then, to her mingled relief and disappointment footsteps
were heard in the passage, and their agitating tête-à-tête was obviously at an
end. A moment later tea was brought in by a maid, and almost immediately
afterwards Mrs. Wayne rejoined them.

"I hope Toni has managed to entertain
you." Mrs. Wayne smiled at her youngest child, with an indulgence Beverley
felt she would hardly have displayed if she could have known just what form
Toni's entertainment had taken.

But Beverley said politely, "Yes, indeed."
And
then they had tea, and it was obvious
that the social
part of this visit was over.

"I am afraid you will have to walk down to the
bus stop, " Mrs. Wayne said. "My son has taken the car off somewhere.
It was just a chance that he was available earlier this afternoon. I hope you
don't
mind."

"Not in the least, "
Beverley assured her. "I expected to walk both ways, and it's a pleasant
walk."

"Well, it gets a little wearisome if you have
to
do it too often." Mrs. Wayne smiled.
"But whenever it is possible to arrange a lift for you I will do so,
and
perhaps you won't mind the other times too much."

Once more Beverley gave an assurance that she would
not. And, after repeating that she would be back, ready to start work, before
ten o'clock next morning, she took her leave. Toni, with obvious
friendliness, accompanied her to the front door, and,
looking at the big hall clock, said,
"You'll have to hurry, Miss
Farman. The bus goes from the Crown at a quarter past five, I think."

Spurred on by this thought, Beverley actually ran
part of the way along the lane, for she knew there
would probably be a wait of nearly two hours between buses. The hurrying kept
her from thinking too deeply about her afternoon visit. But nothing could
entirely hold at bay the anxious thoughts which Tom's reve
lation had
prompted.

She tried to tell herself, as she half walked, half-
ran along, that the really important event of the after noon was the securing
of a large order for most congenial and interesting work. But, in the back of
her mind, looming over every other consideration, was
the revelation which the youngest Wayne daughter had
insisted on making
to her.

"She is only a child, " Beverley told
herself. "She has overheard some half-truths and seen one or two things
which she has misinterpreted. Then she put all
of them together and has distressed herself badly with
her own
garbled version of the situation. That's what it is."

But she did not really believe this. She believed that
what Toni had told her was substantially the truth. Somehow, in a naive, disconnected
way, the story had the ring of truth about it. And, if that were the case, what
of her own position with re
gard to
Geoffrey?

Until that moment, somehow, Beverley had never really
thought of anyone supplanting herself in Geoffrey's affections. She had
accepted the fact that it might be years before he felt in a position to marry her,
if ever. But that he would want to marry someone else had not entered her
calculations. She had always thought of him as someone who would not think
seriously about any girl..