Anna of the Five Towns - BestLightNovel.com
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'I wish I could paint, anyway,' she retorted.
'I'm glad you can't,' he insisted.
When they got back to the cliffs, towards tea-time, Beatrice was still painting, but in a new spot. She seemed entirely absorbed in her work, and did not hear their approach.
'Let's creep up and surprise her,' Mynors whispered. 'You go first, and put your hands over her eyes.'
'Oh!' exclaimed Beatrice, blindfolded; 'how horrid you are, Henry! I know who it is--I know who it is.'
'You just don't, then,' said Henry, now in front of her. Anna removed her hands.
'Well, you told her to do it, I'm sure of that. And I was getting on so splendidly! I shan't do another stroke now.'
'That's right,' said Henry. 'You've wasted quite enough time as it is.'
Beatrice pouted. She was evidently annoyed with both of them. She looked from one to the other, jealous of their mutual understanding and agreement. Mr. and Mrs. Sutton issued from the house, and the five stood chatting till tea was ready; but the shadow remained on Beatrice's face. Mynors made several attempts to laugh it away, and at dusk these two went for a stroll to Port St. Mary. They returned in a state of deep intimacy. During supper Beatrice was consciously and elaborately angelic, and there was that in her voice and eyes, when sometimes she addressed Mynors, which almost persuaded Anna that he might once have loved his cousin. At night, in the bedroom, Anna imagined that she could detect in Beatrice's att.i.tude the least shade of condescension. She felt hurt, and despised herself for feeling hurt.
So the days pa.s.sed, without much variety, for the Suttons were not addicted to excursions. Anna was profoundly happy; she had forgotten care. She agreed to every suggestion for amus.e.m.e.nt; each moment had its pleasure, and this pleasure was quite independent of the thing done; it sprang from all activities and idlenesses. She was at special pains to fraternise with Mr. Sutton. He made an interesting companion, full of facts about strata, outcrops, and breaks, his sole weakness being the habit of quoting extremely sentimental sc.r.a.ps of verse when walking by the sea-sh.o.r.e. He frankly enjoyed Anna's attention to him, and took pride in her society. Mrs. Sutton, that simple heart, devoted herself to the attainment of absolute quiescence. She had come for a rest, and she achieved her purpose. Her kindliness became for the time pa.s.sive instead of active. Beatrice was a changing quant.i.ty in the domestic equation. Plainly her parents had spoiled their only child, and she had frequent fits of petulance, particularly with Mynors; but her energy and spirits atoned well for these. As for Mynors, he behaved exactly as on the first Monday. He spent many hours alone with Anna--(Beatrice appeared to insist on leaving them together, even while showing a faint resentment at the loneliness thus entailed on herself)--and his att.i.tude was such as Anna, ignorant of the ways of brothers, deemed a brother might adopt.
On the second Monday an incident occurred. In the afternoon Mr. Sutton had asked Beatrice to go with him to Port St. Mary, and she had refused on the plea that the light was of a suitable grey for painting. Mr.
Sutton had slipped off alone, unseen by Anna and Henry, who had meant to accompany him in place of Beatrice. Before tea, while Anna, Beatrice and Henry were awaiting the meal in the parlour, Mynors referred to the matter.
'I hope you've done some decent work this afternoon,' he said to Beatrice.
'I haven't,' she replied shortly; 'I haven't done a stroke.'
'But you said you were going to paint hard!'
'Well, I didn't.'
'Then why couldn't you have gone to Port St. Mary, instead of breaking your fond father's heart by a refusal?'
'He didn't want me, really.'
Anna interjected: 'I think he did, Bee.'
'You, know you're very self-willed, not to say selfish,' Mynors said.
'No, I'm not,' Beatrice protested seriously. 'Am I, Anna?'
'Well----' Anna tried to think of a diplomatic p.r.o.nouncement.
Beatrice took offence at the hesitation.
'Oh! You two are bound to agree, of course. You're as thick as thieves.'
She gazed steadily out of the window, and there was a silence. Mynors'
lip curled.
'Oh! There's the loveliest yacht just coming into the bay,' Beatrice cried suddenly, in a tone of affected enthusiasm. 'I'm going out to sketch it.' She s.n.a.t.c.hed up her hat and sketching-block, and ran hastily from the room. The other two saw her sitting on the gra.s.s, sharpening a pencil. The yacht, a large and luxurious craft, had evidently come to anchor for the night.
Mrs. Sutton arrived from her bedroom, and then Mr. Sutton also came in.
Tea was served. Mynors called to Beatrice through the window and received no reply. Then Mrs. Sutton summoned her.
'Go on with your tea,' Beatrice shouted, without turning her head.
'Don't wait for me. I'm bound to finish this now.'
'Fetch her, Anna dear,' said Mrs. Sutton after another interval. Anna rose to obey, half-fearful.
'Aren't you coming in, Bee?' She stood by the sketcher's side, and observed nothing but a few meaningless lines on the block.
'Didn't you hear what I said to mother?'
Anna retired in discomfiture.
Tea was finished. They went out, but kept at a discreet distance from the artist, who continued to use her pencil until dusk had fallen.
Then they returned to the sitting-room, where a fire had been lighted, and Beatrice at length followed. As the others sat in a circle round the fire, Beatrice, who occupied the sofa in solitude, gave a s.h.i.+ver.
'Beatrice, you've taken cold,' said her mother, sitting out there like that.'
'Oh, nonsense, mother--what a fidget you are!'
'A fidget I certainly am not, my darling, and that you know very well.
As you've had no tea, you shall have some gruel at once, and go to bed and get warm.'
'Oh no, mother!' But Mrs. Sutton was resolved, and in half an hour she had taken Beatrice to bed and tucked her up.
When Anna went to the bedroom Beatrice was awake.
'Can't you sleep?' she inquired kindly.
'No,' said Beatrice, in a feeble voice, 'I'm restless, somehow.'
'I wonder if it's influenza,' said Mrs. Sutton, on the following morning, when she learnt from Anna that Beatrice had had a bad night, and would take breakfast in bed. She carried the invalid's food upstairs herself. 'I hope it isn't influenza,' she said later. 'The girl is very hot.'
'You haven't a clinical thermometer?' Mynors suggested.
'Go, see if you can buy one at the little chemist's,' she replied eagerly. In a few minutes he came back with the instrument.
'She's at over a hundred,' Mrs. Sutton reported, having used the thermometer. 'What do you say, father? Shall we send for a doctor?
I'm not so set up with doctors as a general rule,' she added, as if in defence, to Anna. 'I brought Beatrice through measles and scarlet fever without a doctor--we never used to think of having a doctor in those days for ordinary ailments; but influenza--that's different. Eh, I dread it; you never know how it will end. And poor Beatrice had such a bad attack last Martinmas.'
'If you like, I'll run for a doctor now,' said Mynors.
'Let be till to-morrow,' the Alderman decided. 'We'll see how she goes on. Happen it's nothing but a cold.'
'Yes,' a.s.sented Mrs. Sutton; 'it's no use crying out before you're hurt.'
Anna was struck by the placidity with which they covered their apprehension. Towards noon, Beatrice, who said that she felt better, insisted on rising. A fire was lighted at once in the parlour, and she sat in front of it till tea-time, when she was obliged to go to bed again. On the Wednesday morning, after a night which had been almost sleepless for both girls, her temperature stood at 103, and Henry fetched the doctor, who p.r.o.nounced it a case of influenza, severe, demanding very careful treatment. Instantly the normal movement of the household was changed. The sickroom became a mysterious centre round which everything revolved, and the parlour, without the alteration of a single chair, took on a deserted, forlorn appearance. Meals were eaten like the pa.s.sover, with loins girded for any sudden summons. Mrs.