The Daughter of the Manor. Бетти Нилс

were on the outskirts of Bath when she said abruptly, ‘I’m sorry, I must be boring you. I expect you get enough moaning from your patients.’

      ‘No, no, talking never bores me, unless it is the kind of chat you encounter at parties. I’m going to park at the Royal National Hospital. There are several chemists in Milsom Street; fetch the prescription and come back to the car. There’s a quiet restaurant by the abbey—I hope you’ll take pity on me and have lunch.’ When she opened her mouth to refuse he said, ‘No, don’t say that you have to go home at once; you would be too late for lunch anyway, and I promise you I’ll get you home within the next hour or so.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘I have an afternoon surgery…’

      ‘Well, that would be nice; thank you. I don’t like to be away from home for very long because of Father…’

      He had stopped the car by the hospital and got out to open her door. ‘I’ll be fifteen minutes. If I’m longer than that, go and wait in the entrance hall…’

      He watched her walk away. She was just as nice to look at from the back as from the front. He smiled a little as he went into the hospital.

      When she got back he was there, waiting for her. ‘We’ll leave the car here; it’s only a few minutes’ walk. You know Bath well?’

      The restaurant was small, quiet, and the food was excellent. Leonora, savouring a perfectly grilled sole, thought she must remember to tell Tony about it; it was a long time since they had been out together for a meal—he was happy to stay at home with her, he always told her, and she spent hours in the kitchen conjuring up a meal he would like from as little of the housekeeping money as possible.

      She wished that he were sitting opposite her now instead of Dr Galbraith and despised herself for the mean thought. After all, he had no reason to give her lunch and she had to admit he was a pleasant companion. All the same, she had the sneaking feeling that behind that bland face there was a man she wouldn’t care to cross swords with.

      They talked as they ate, exchanging views on Bath, Pont Magna and its inhabitants, and the various houses in it.

      ‘I used to go to Buntings when I was a little girl,’ Leonora told him. ‘It’s a lovely old house. Are you happy there?’

      ‘Yes. It is the kind of place where you feel instantly at home. I expect you feel that about your own home?’

      ‘Oh, yes. It’s badly in need of repairs, though. Some rich American wanted to buy it last year, but Father wouldn’t hear of it. His family have lived in it for a very long time. It would break his heart to leave.’

      ‘I can understand that. It is a delightful house. Rather large to look after, though.’

      ‘Yes, but quite a few rooms are shut and Nanny and I can manage the rest.’

      She frowned and he said smoothly, ‘Nannies are marvellous, aren’t they? Shall we go? I must get you back before someone wonders where you are.’

      Less than an hour later he stopped the car at her home, got out to open her door and waited until she had gone inside. He had beautiful manners, she thought, and hoped that she had thanked him with sufficient warmth.

      Her mother was in the drawing room. ‘There you are, dear. Have you got those pills for your father? He’s rather peevish so I came down here to have a little rest—I find looking after someone ill so very tiring. We’ll have tea soon, shall we? Perhaps Nanny could make a few scones.’

      Leonora said, ‘Yes, Mother,’ and went to look for Nanny.

      In the kitchen Nanny asked, ‘Have you had some lunch, Miss Leonora? There’s plenty of that corned beef—’

      ‘Dr Galbraith gave me lunch, Nanny—a rather splendid one too. Mother wants tea a bit earlier—and scones? I’ll come and make them, but first I must go and see about Father.’

      Sir William, back in his bed, was glad to see her.

      ‘I’ve got your pills and you can start them straight away,’ she told him cheerfully. ‘And how about a cup of tea and some of that thin bread and butter Nanny cuts so beautifully?’

      She sat down on the side of the bed. ‘I don’t suppose you feel like sausages for supper. How about scrambled eggs and creamed potato and jelly for pudding?’

      ‘That sounds good.’ Her father smiled at her. ‘We shall be lost without you when you marry, my dear.’ He paused to cough. ‘You are quite sure, aren’t you? Tony is a successful young man—he’ll want to live in London.’

      She shook her head. ‘Not all the time—he was talking about coming down here whenever we could. He loves this house, you know.’

      Her father said drily, ‘It is a gold-mine for anyone with enough money to put it in order. As it is, it’s mouldering away. At least it will be yours one day, Leonora.’

      ‘Not for years, Father.’ She got up and fetched a glass of water and watched him while he swallowed his pill. ‘Every four hours,’ she warned him. ‘Now I’m going to get your tea.’

      She dropped a kiss on his head and went down to the kitchen, where, since Nanny was making the scones, she got her father’s tea-tray ready and presently bore it upstairs.

      Back in the drawing room with her mother, she drew a chair closer to the fire. ‘I must say that Dr Galbraith seems to be a very pleasant man. Charming manners, too. We must invite him to dinner one evening, Leonora—remind me to make a list of guests. We must think of something delicious to give them.’

      Leonora said, ‘Yes, Mother,’ and bit into a scone. ‘I dare say Father will enjoy that once he’s feeling better.’

      Her mother said vaguely, ‘Oh, yes, of course, dear. What did you have for lunch? So kind of the doctor to give you a meal.’

      When Leonora had told her she added, ‘Ah, yes, I know the restaurant you mention. The food there is good but expensive. I dare say that, being a single man, he can afford such places. I’m surprised that he isn’t married, but I expect he is merely waiting until he is settled in at Buntings. A doctor, especially one with a country practice, needs a wife.’

      Leonora murmured an agreement, and wondered why he should need one more than a GP with a town practice.

      ‘He would have done very well for you,’ went on Lady Crosby, ‘but of course you’ve already got a fiancé in Tony. Most suitable and such a charming man.’

      Leonora thought about Tony. He was charming and fun to be with. He teased her a good deal, told her that she was old-fashioned and strait-laced. ‘I’ll forgive you that,’ he had told her, laughing. ‘You’ll change once I get you up to town.’

      She had pointed out that she didn’t want to change. ‘I wouldn’t be me,’ she’d told him, aware that she had irritated him. The next moment, however, he had been laughing again; perhaps she had mistaken the look on his face. They would be happy together, she felt sure; she looked at the diamond on her finger and told herself how happy she was at that very moment just thinking about him.

      That night she dreamt of Dr Galbraith, and the dream persisted in staying in her head all next day. She did her best to dispel it by writing a long letter to Tony.

      Her father was feeling a little better, although he was still coughing a good deal and looked tired. She wondered uneasily what would be done if the antibiotic didn’t do its good work; Dr Galbraith hadn’t said that he would call again…

      He came the next morning and, since she was upstairs with the Hoover, it was her mother who opened the door to him.

      ‘Dr Galbraith—how kind of you to call again. Just in time for coffee. I’ll get Leonora or Nanny to bring it to the drawing room.’ She smiled her charming smile. ‘I do hate having it by myself…’

      Any opinion the doctor might have had about this remark he kept to himself.

      ‘I