The Daughter of the Manor. Бетти Нилс

father’s house. ‘There’s a chap I know who knows exactly what needs to be done. It’ll be a showplace by the time it’s finished. We can have friends down for the weekend…’

      Leonora raised a puzzled face. ‘But Tony, we shan’t be living here; Mother and Father wouldn’t much like a great many people coming to stay—even for a weekend.’

      He said rather too quickly, ‘Oh, I’m thinking of special occasions—Christmas and birthdays and so on; it’s usual for families to get together at such times.’ He smiled at her. ‘Tell me, what’s been happening since I was last here?’

      ‘Nothing much. The Willoughbys’ dinner party, and—I almost forgot—the new doctor to take over from Dr Fleming—he had a heart attack—not a severe one but he’s got to retire.’

      ‘Someone decent, I hope. Local chap?’

      ‘Well, no, I don’t think so. I don’t know where he comes from. He’s bought Buntings—that nice old house at the other end of the village.’

      ‘Has he, indeed? Must have cost him a pretty penny. Married?’

      ‘I’ve no idea. Very likely, I should think. Most GPs are, aren’t they?’

      Tony began to talk about himself then—the wheeling and dealing he had done, the money he had made, the important men of the business world he had met. Leonora listened and thought how lucky she was to be going to marry such a clever man.

      They went to church the following morning and she stood beside Tony in the family pew, guiltily aware that she was glad the new doctor was there too and could see her handsome fiancé.

      Dr Galbraith was handsome too, and his height and size added to that, but he was… She pondered for a moment. Perhaps it was the way he dressed, in elegant, beautifully tailored clothes, sober ties and, she had no doubt, handmade shoes—whereas Tony was very much the young man about town with his waistcoats and brightly coloured ties and striped shirts. She took a peep across the aisle and encountered the doctor’s eyes, and blushed as though she had spoken her thoughts out loud and he had heard her.

      She looked away hastily and listened to the Colonel reading the lesson, with a look of rapt attention, not hearing a word, and she took care not to look at the doctor again.

      It was impossible to avoid him at the end of the service; he was standing in the church porch with the Flemings, talking to the vicar, and there was no help for it but to introduce Tony to him.

      ‘The new GP,’ observed Tony. ‘I don’t suppose there’s much work for you around here. Wouldn’t mind your job—peace and quiet in the country and all that. You fellows don’t know when you’re lucky. I’m in the City myself…’

      The doctor said drily, ‘Indeed? One of the unlucky ones? You must be glad to spend the weekend in this peaceful spot.’

      Tony laughed. ‘Not even a weekend—I must go back after lunch, try and catch up with the work, you know.’

      ‘Ah, well, it’s a pleasant run up to town. I dare say we shall meet again when next you’re here.’ The doctor smiled pleasantly and turned away to talk to the vicar’s wife, who had joined them, and presently when he and the Flemings left the little group he did no more than nod affably at Leonora, who gave him a decidedly chilly smile.

      ‘A bit of a stiff neck, isn’t he?’ asked Tony as they walked back to the house. He gave his rather loud laugh. ‘I don’t need to have qualms about the two of you!’

      ‘If that’s a joke,’ said Leonora, ‘I don’t think it’s funny. And why do you have to go back after lunch?’

      ‘Darling—’ he was at his most cajoling ‘—I simply must. There’s no let-up, you know, not in my world—the business world. Keeping one step ahead is vital…’

      ‘Vital for what?’

      ‘Making money, of course. Don’t bother your pretty head; just leave it to me.’

      ‘Will it always be like this? I mean, after we’re married? Will you be dashing off at all hours of the day, and do we need a lot of money? Don’t you earn enough for us to get married soon?’

      He gave her a quick kiss. ‘What a little worrier you are. I am that old-fashioned thing—comfortably off. We could marry tomorrow and live pleasantly, but I don’t want to be just comfortably off; I want to be rich, darling—a flat in town, decently furnished, money to go abroad when we want to, all the clothes you want to buy, dinner parties, the theatre. I want you to have the best of everything.’

      ‘Tony, I don’t mind about any of that. I’m not a town girl; at least, I don’t think I am. I like living in the country and I don’t care if we haven’t much money. After all, I’m used to that.’ She added thoughtfully, ‘Perhaps you’ve fallen in love with the wrong girl…’

      He flung an arm around her. ‘Darling, what nonsense. The moment I set eyes on you when we met at the Willoughbys I knew you were what I was looking for.’

      Which was quite true—she was a very pretty girl, had been ready to fall in love, and was an only child, with no large family to complicate matters. She lived in a lovely old house with plenty of land, which would be worth a fortune once he could get his hands on it.

      He would have to go slowly, of course, and naturally he couldn’t do anything to make Leonora unhappy. Her parents would be just as happy in a smaller house, somewhere close by, and he and Leonora could live in the big house. It would be a splendid focal point for meeting influential men and their wives—men who would give him a helping hand up the financial ladder.

      Decently dressed, Leonora would prove an asset; she had lovely manners and a delightful voice. A bit outspoken at times and a good deal more intelligent than he had expected, but he was sure that he could persuade her to his way of thinking.

      It was a couple of days later when Leonora met the doctor again. The icy weather had become quite mild and it rained from a dull sky. Sir William had caught cold and sat morosely by the fire, while his wife fussed around him and Nanny offered hot drinks and aspirin, which left Leonora looking after the household and doing the shopping, for, much as she loved her father, she could see that two females hovering over him was just about as much as he could stand. So she made the beds and hoovered and did most of the cooking and now they were running out of groceries.

      In a mackintosh even older than the tweed coat, a hat, shapeless with age, rammed down onto her head, she picked up her basket, announced that she was going to the village and, accompanied by Wilkins, set out.

      ‘At least we won’t skid on ice,’ she observed to Wilkins, who was plodding along beside her. ‘Though we are going to get very wet.’

      Mrs Pike’s shop was empty, which was a good thing for she allowed Wilkins to come in out of the rain, offering a sheet of newspaper which he was to sit on while Leonora took out her list.

      A visit to Mrs Pike’s was a leisurely affair unless she had a great many customers; she chatted while she collected bacon, cheese, the loaf the baker left each day, the marmalade Sir William preferred, tea and coffee, sugar and flour. Not that there was much to gossip about: Mrs Hick’s new baby, the Kemp’s youngest boy with a broken arm—‘What do you expect from boys, anyway?’ asked Mrs Pike—and Farmer Jenkins making a bit of trouble about his milk quota. ‘Whatever that is, Miss Leonora; I’m sure I don’t know what the world’s coming to!’

      This was one of Mrs Pike’s frequent observations and the preliminary to a lengthy monologue of a gloomy nature, so it was a relief when two more customers came in together and Leonora was able to gather up her shopping and start for home.

      It was still raining. Dr Galbraith, driving out of the village, saw Leonora’s bedraggled figure ahead of him, marching along briskly, Wilkins beside her. He passed them and then pulled in to the side of the road, opened the door and said, ‘Get in—I’m going past your place. Your dog can sit at the back.’

      ‘Good