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zines and deciding the sort of frock she would like; a
figured material that was mainly gold, she thought, in a
semi-evening style. Something really rather impractical,
for a change.
The customers drifted out and Tess cleared the dining-
table and washed up. The shortcake was gone, so she
would have to think up something else for this evening.
The men liked pies and puddings, seemed to feel let
down if she served a trifle or fruit mould. Raisin roll with
butter and sugar; a plain light pudding with hot stewed
plums or maple syrup? No need to decide for a couple
of hours, anyway.
She mowed the small lawn and tidied the beds full of
dwarf dahlias and ragged asters. A couple of the rose
bushes were filling with a new crop of buds, but they
needed more attention than she could give them. Through
the gap between the cypress hedge and the barn she could
see Anita's car still in its place, but the other, the. flashy
affair in which the two older women had arrived, had
110
disappeared. Did that mean Anita was now alone? What
about the younger visitor had Anita picked her up
somewhere this morning? Tess shrugged, and got on with
the absorbing task of tidying the garden.
A car crunched over the gravel drive and she waved
to George as he braked, looked quickly at her watch.
Four o'clock; he was home early. She straightened and
crossed the lawn to speak to him, peeled off the muddy
garden gloves.
"Hi," she said. "Had enough of it for one day?"
He smiled his slow, rugged smile, pushed a hand over
the grey wing of hair at his temple. "I've been classifying
stuff all day and gone woolly. You've made a neat job
of the garden. Why didn't you leave the mowing for me?"
"The grass wasn't really ready for mowing, but I felt
like it. The borders look smart, don't they? Like some
tea?"
"I've had some, thanks. They were brewing as I left.
Anita inside?"
"The house is empty. I think she's gone down to the
lake with a friend."
"A friend?"
"A girl of about twenty-six. Anita seems to have met
quite a few people in the district."
He nodded. "She always has to know lots of people." He
flicked an imaginary speck from the knee of his trousers
and tacked on casually, "I got home early because I
wanted a word alone with you, Tess. Do you mind?"
"Certainly not. Shoot."
"I'm not as forthright as you are, so I have to circle
the subject a bit." He paused. "I know it's not very easy
for a girl of your sort to like Anita. All her life she's
been able to accept certain luxuries that you've hardly
known to exist, and perhaps they've spoiled her a little.
For instance the lunch she prepared yesterday . . ."
"It was an excellent meal."
"Yes, it was, but the fact of her taking over made you
uneasy. I saw that."
"I'm simply not accustomed to being waited on by a
guest, but if Anita got pleasure out of it, why should I
mind?"
"I'm very glad it didn't upset you at all." He pushed
his hands into his pockets. "Fact is, she told me some-
thing last night that's put me in a quandry. You'd already
gone to bed when she came back from that dinner party
with Steve. We three had a drink together and Anita and
I went upstairs before Steve did. She pulled me into her
bedroom and began to cry." Tess didn't help him at
all; she couldn't. So he went on stiffly, "I comforted
her and asked her what was the matter. She told me she'd
never been in love with that boy she married, but that
she's in love now with Steve, of all men."
Through dry lips, Tess queried, "Why are you telling
me, George?"
He lifted a shoulder unhappily. "I suppose to you it
seems strange that I should confide in someone as young
as you are, but I had to get another slant on it, and in
spite of your youth you're a wise person. I've had to deal
with all kinds of crises in Anita's life, but never with
one like this. I honestly don't know what to do about it."
Tess looked down at the wet, distorted gloves, swung
them gently. "You know your sister very well and you
know Steve better than I do. Is is possible that he's . . .
falling in love with her?"
"I don't know. I hate talking about the private affairs
of another man, but I do wish I knew what he thinks
about Anita."
"Don't you think that perhaps she knows? Why did she
weep?"
"Any emotional disturbance makes her cry she does
it easily these days. She said she felt deep inside that he
cares for her, but she's sure he won't say a word for at
least another six months till she's been free a year
and she couldn't bear to wait .that long." He gestured un-
comfortably. "Apart from the young husband, whom she
chose herself, I've always been able to get for Anita any-
thing she wanted. So you see how I'm placed."
Anita had we'pt her plea for Steve Fenner, and if he
could possibly manage it, George would get Steve for
her.
"It's not quite two weeks since they met," she reminded
him a little shortly. "Can't you tell her firmly that she
must wait?"
112
"I did point that out," he said tiredly. "I'm sure you
" understand me pretty well I'm so uncomplicated but
understanding Anita is rather different. She's very sweet,
really, and awfully young for her years, but I'm certain
that in the right environment she'll be happy and whole
and make some man a wonderful wife. She has it in her
to be a great person; it's worldly experience that's lacking."
; He was wrong there, Tess reflected. Anita was mature in
|every way but one; she had never grown up emotionally,
land in part George was to blame. He had dealt with her
|troubles and kept her financially secure, he had apparently
|said nothing against her marrying a rich young man who
Shad no job and was mad on sport. Perhaps he was blam-
|ffig himself for that now, condeming himself for daring
HP hope that through Anita's marriage he might himself
||md happiness with the woman he loved.
|| "I'm afraid I 'can't advise you, George," she said
fabruptly. "The whole thing depends on Steve, doesn't it?"
| He nodded, and sighed. "And he's not likely to tell a
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