Sun And Candlelight Part 23

What wonderful toys you have.

If you're ready should we be getting back to your papa?

' The children said something to Nanny and she answered briefly and then nodded just as briefly at Alethea, who nonetheless wished her goodbye for all the world as though they were the best of friends, and then accompanied the children downstairs again, talking cheerfully the whole way, trying not to mind their monosyllabic replies.

The men got up as they entered the garden room and Sarre brought her a sh.e.l.ly.

"Did the children introduce you to Nanny?

' he wanted to know, 'and I hope they translated for you both their English is pretty good.

' "It's super," declared Alethea.

"Nanny must be a marvellous person.

I expect she loves them very much.

' He had pulled up a chair beside her.

"Oh, she does she spoils them too," he smiled at her.

"That's where you come in, my dear." The children were sitting with

their uncle, but near enough to hear their father's conversation.

Alethea said carefully: "No one could ever take Nanny's place.

She's something special, isn't she?

' She was aware as she spoke that the children had heard her, were

listening to every word she uttered, would in fact do so while she was

in their father's house.

Perhaps, she mused hopefully, by the time she was married to Sarre, they would be used to the idea.

They went in to lunch presently, a meal served in a lofty panelled room with a large circular table to seat sixteen people and a great carved sideboard taking up the whole of one wall.

The one tall window was draped with rich crimson velvet curtains and matched the glowing colours of the carpet, reflected in a more subdued manner by the portraits on the walls.

The whole made a fitting background for the white table linen and s.h.i.+ning silver and gla.s.s.

Al waited at table, a.s.sisted by a cheerful young girl.

He was excellent at his job too, Alethea discovered.

For all his funny c.o.c.kney manner, he was now the picture of a dignified manservant.

And the food was delicious.

Alethea, hungry after their journey and all the excitement, ate with pleasure, exchanging lighthearted conversation with Wien and and rather more serious remarks with Sarre.

He seemed older now that he was in his own home and a little remote, but his smile when he looked at her was just as friendly.

Towards the end of the meal he told her: "T simply must go to my rooms this afternoon---will you forgive me if I leave you alone?

We'll go out this evening if you wish, or stay home, just as you

like.

' "T'd like to stay here," said Alethea promptly, 'and be taken round the house.

We didn't have time.

' "Of course.

the children go to bed at half past seven and I usually dine at eight

o'clock if I'm in.

Will that suit you?

' "Oh, yes.

You don't have to go to the hospital this evening?

' He shook his head.

"No--not unless something turns up.

What will you do with yourself this afternoon?

The children will be at school, I'm afraid, but Al could drive you round if you would like that.

' "T'd rather walk," she said promptly, 'if I could have the address of this house written down just in case I get lost.

' And so she walked, seen out of the house in a fatherly way by Al, who having issued a series of warnings about traffic on the wrong side of the road and not falling into ca.n.a.ls, stood at the door until she was at the end of the quiet street.

She turned and waved to him just before she went round the corner.

The city was easy enough to find one's way about.

Al had a.s.sured her there were two large squares into which the main streets converged, so that it would be impossible to get lost.

Alethea, wandering happily from one to the other, got lost a dozen times, but there was always the tall spire of St Martin's church acting as a towering landmark to guide her.

The shops were enticing and worthy of a much longer visit, she discovered as she began to wend her way back to Sarre's house, but she would have ample time to shop.

Sarre would be at the hospital or his rooms each day, she imagined, and the children at school; she would be left largely to her own devices.

She was wrong.

Sarre returned home very shortly after she herself did, to find her sitting alone in the small sitting room Al had invited her to use.

The children, Al informed her, were in their own playroom where they

had their tea with Nanny and he promised her a nice English tea in a brace of shakes.

Before he could bring it, however, Sarre joined her.

"You must think that you've been entirely forgotten," he observed, 'and

I'm sorry, although I suppose being a nurse you understand that my time

isn't my own.

But I've arranged to be free tomorrow afternoon so that I can show you the countryside, and in the morning perhaps you would like to come to the clinic with me.

Wien and is in charge of it and I send those patients who I think might

benefit to him there.

I've beds in the orthopaedic hospital, of course, and quite a large private practice.

' He stretched out in a large wing chair opposite her, looking relaxed and not in the least tired, and when Al brought the tea presently and she had poured it and handed him a cup, he said comfortably: "This is nice, I had quite forgotten how pleasant it is to come home to someone waiting for me.

Are the children in?

' She felt as though she had been his wife for years.

"Yes, upstairs having their tea with Nanny; Al says they always do.

' Sarre bit into one of Mrs McCrea's scones.

"They usually come down when I'm home, but I expect they're a little

shy.

' He smiled at her.

"They'll not be that for long.

How did you find them?

' He wasn't looking at her.

A large s.h.a.ggy dog was peering at them through the window and Sarre got up to let him in.

"Rough--hullo, old fellow!

Alethea, he was in the kitchen when we arrived and I took him with me in the car-you've not met him.

' Alethea liked dogs; she scratched his ear for him and he looked up at her with instant friendliness.

"He's a poppet," she declared, glad that his entry had saved her having to answer Sarre about the children.

Of course they weren't shy, she thought silently; they were being unfriendly, but whether they were prepared to let their father see that, she had yet to discover.

It seemed that they weren't, for when they joined them presently in the sitting room they were the very soul of politeness, asking her questions about England, telling her about school, wanting to know about the wedding.