Part 12 (2/2)

He said simply: ”T wanted to see you, Alethea.

' She blinked with surprise and pinkened a little.

”Would sandwiches and coffee do?

or beer?

' He smiled then, a friendly grin which she found herself answering.

”Beer, please.

And I would love a sandwich.

' Mrs Bustle snorted her concern.

”You get the beer.

Miss Alethea, and go into the garden.

I'll be out in a brace of shakes with something tasty.

' Alethea got the beer and took her companion into the garden where Mrs Thomas was quite obviously waiting for them.

”Come here and sit down,” she called.

”Such a lovely day, and you must forgive an old woman for being lazy.

' She then proceeded to engage him in a conversation which while not

exactly excluding Alethea, certainly didn't give her any chance to say much for herself, and when presently Mrs Bustle came with a tray loaded with sandwiches, one or two of her own pork pies, and a slice of rhubarb pie, well sugared, and arranged this repast on a small table at Mr van Diederijk's elbow, conversation was kept to a polite minimum while he demolished these dainties.

He sat back at length.

”You are a magnificent cook, Mrs Bustle,” he observed to that lady, who

had pounced out upon them several times to make sure that he was eating his fill.

He turned to Mrs Thomas.

”And you, Mrs Thomas, are a delightful hostess.

Thank you both.

' He didn't say anything to Alethea, which considering she had done

very little to entertain him was natural enough--indeed, except for the odd remark during the next half an hour, he had very little to say to her.

But presently Mrs Thomas observed: ”T shall now take a nap.

We will have tea at four o'clock, Alethea--out here, I think.

Take Sarre for a walk.

' If Alethea had been an ill-natured girl, she would have muttered her

annoyance.

As it was she said politely, ”Very well.

Granny, although perhaps Mr van Diederijk would like a rest too.

' She stopped there because she could see that he was laughing silently

at her, but all he said was: ”Sarre, if you could remember.

I don't feel quite so old then.

' They had taken a few steps when Mrs Thomas asked: ”If I am not being

impertinent, Sarre, how old are you?

' ”Thirty-nine, Mrs Thomas, and sometimes I feel twice that age.

' ”And sometimes you look the half of it.

' She closed her eyes with a loud sigh.

”Now run along--when you reach my age it doesn't matter whether you

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