Caroline's Waterloo. Бетти Нилс

she had seen a serious middle-aged woman only that morning as she crossed the hall on her way to the library and Noakes had told her that it was the secretary, Mevrouw Slikker, who came daily to attend to the Professor’s correspondence. Undoubtedly she would be businesslike about it. Caro nodded her sleepy head at this satisfactory solution and went to sleep.

      She walked a little further the next day, following the paths around the gardens and sitting down now and again to admire her surroundings. She wondered if the Professor ever had the time to admire his own grounds and thought probably not, he was certainly never long enough in his own house to enjoy its comforts and magnificence. She wandered round to the back of the house and found a pleasing group of old buildings grouped round a courtyard, barns and stables and a garage and a shed which smelled deliciously of apples and corn. It was coming out of this interesting place that she came face to face with an Old English sheepdog. He stood almost to her waist and peered at her with a heavily eyebrowed whiskered face. ‘Rex!’ she cried. ‘Oh, aren’t you a darling!’ She extended a closed fist and he sniffed at it and then put an enormous paw on each of her shoulders and reared up to peer down at her. He must have liked what he saw, for he licked her face gently, got down on to his four feet again and offered a head for scratching. They finished their walk together and wandered in through a little side door to find Noakes looking anxious.

      ‘There you are, miss—I ’opes yer ’aven’t been too far.’ His elderly eyes fell upon Rex. ‘’E didn’t frighten yer? ’E’s always in the kitchen with Marta in the mornings. I’ll take ’im back…’

      ‘Oh, Noakes, please could he stay with me? He’s company and ever so gentle. Is he allowed in the house?’

      ‘Lor’ yes, miss. Follows the Professor round like a shadow, ’e does. Well, I don’t see no ’arm.’ He beamed at her. ‘There’s a nice lunch for yer in the library and Juffrouw Kropp says if yer wants ’er this afternoon she’s at yer disposal.’

      So the day passed pleasantly enough, and the following two days were just as pleasant. Caro did a little more each day now; the Professor would be back in two days’ time, Noakes had told her, and she had to be ready to leave then. She had no intention of trespassing on his kindness for an hour longer than she needed to. Of course she would have to get tickets for the journey home, but that shouldn’t take long, and Noakes would help her and perhaps the Professor would allow him to drive her to the station in Leeuwarden; she had already discovered that the train went all the way to the Hoek—all she would need to do was to get from it to the boat. She had mentioned it carefully to Noakes when he had been clearing away her supper dishes, but he had shaken his head and said dubiously that it would be better to consult the Professor. ‘’E may not want yer to go straight away, miss,’ he suggested.

      ‘Well, I should think he would,’ she told him matter-of-factly, ‘for I’m quite well now and after all, he didn’t invite me as a guest. He’s been more than kind to let me get well here and I mustn’t stay longer than absolutely necessary.’

      Noakes had shaken his head and muttered to himself and then begged her to go down to the sitting-room and play for them all again—something she had done with great pleasure, for it passed the evenings very nicely. When she was on her own she found that she had an increasing tendency to think about the Professor—a pointless pastime, she told herself, and went on doing it nonetheless.

      It rained the next day, so that she spent a great deal of it in the library, with Rex beside her, poring over her dictionary. She was making progress, or so she thought, with an ever-lengthening list of words which she tried out on members of the staff. All rather a waste of time, she knew that, but it passed the days and in some obscure way made the Professor a little less of a stranger. She went earlier than usual to play the piano that day, perhaps because the afternoon was unnaturally dark and perhaps because she was lonely despite Rex’s company. And Noakes and his staff seemed pleased to see her, requesting this, that and the other tune, beating time and tra-laing away to each other. Presently, with everyone satisfied, Caroline began to play to please herself; half forgotten melodies she had enjoyed before her aunt had married again and then on to Sibelius and Grieg, not noticing how quiet everyone had become; she was halfway through a wistful little French tune when she stopped and turned round. ‘Sorry, I got carried away,’ she began, and saw the Professor standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, leaning against the door frame.

      He didn’t smile, indeed, he was looking coldly furious, although his icily polite: ‘Pray don’t stop on my account, Miss Tripp,’ was uttered in a quiet voice.

      Caroline stood up rather too hard on the bad leg so that she winced. ‘You’re angry,’ she said quickly, ‘and I’m sorry—I have no right to be here, but you’re not to blame Noakes or anyone else—I invited myself.’

      She wanted to say a great deal more, but the look of annoyance on his face stopped her. She wished everyone goodnight in her newly acquired Dutch and went past him through the door and along the passage. He caught up with her quite easily before she could reach the staircase, and she sighed soundlessly. He was going to lecture her and she might as well have it now as later; perhaps she might even get him to see that no harm had been done, indeed he might even be glad that his staff had enjoyed a pleasant hour.

      She turned to face him. ‘It’s a pity you frown so,’ she said kindly.

      He looked down his splendid nose at her. ‘I have very good reason to frown, Miss Tripp, and well you know it. I return home unexpectedly and what do I find? My butler, my housekeeper, my cook, the maidservants and the gardener being entertained by you in the servants’ sitting-room. Probably if I had come home even earlier I should have found you all playing gin rummy in the cellars.’

      She made haste to reassure him. ‘Not gin rummy—it was canasta, and we played round the kitchen table—just for half an hour,’ she added helpfully. ‘You see, I’m learning Dutch.’

      His fine mouth curved into a sneer. ‘Indeed? I cannot think why.’

      Caroline said in her quiet hesitant voice: ‘Well, it’s something to do, you know. I’m quite well, you see.’

      His voice was silky and his voice cold. ‘Miss Tripp, you have disrupted my household—when one considers that I have done my best to help you and I find your behaviour intolerable.’

      She stared back at him, her lip caught between her teeth, because it was beginning to tremble. After a long moment she said: ‘I’m sorry, Professor.’

      He turned on his heel. ‘I’m glad to hear it—I hope you will mend your ways.’

      He went into his study without another word and she went to her room, where she sat on her bed to review the situation. The Professor was going out to dinner that evening, she had heard Noakes say so—to one of his grand friends, she supposed, where the girls knew better than to play the piano in the servants’ room and said things to make him smile instead of frown. Oh well…she got up and went across to the tallboy where her few possessions were housed and laid them on the bed, fetched her duffle bag from the cupboard and began to pack. She did it neatly and unhurriedly. There was plenty of time; she would eat her supper alone presently, as she always did, and when everyone had gone to the kitchen for their own meal, she would slip away. She would have to leave a letter. She frowned a long while over its composition, but at length it was done, neatly written and sealed into an envelope. She would have to leave it somewhere where Noakes wouldn’t find it at once. The Professor’s study would be the best place, he always went straight there when he came home, shutting himself away in his own learned lonely world—for he was lonely, Caroline was sure of that.

      She finished her packing and went down to her supper which this evening had been set in the dining room, a richly sombre place. She felt quite lost sitting at the great oval table surrounded by all the massive furniture, but she made a good meal, partly to please Noakes and partly because she wasn’t sure when she would have the next one. And Noakes was uneasy, although the Professor, he assured her, hadn’t been in the least angry—indeed, he had hardly mentioned the matter. Noakes hoped—they all hoped—that tomorrow she would play for them again, but first he would ascertain