The Daughter of the Manor. Betty Neels

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 called to see Sir William and, much though I would enjoy a cup of coffee, I can’t spare the time— I have quite a few visits to make this morning.’ He smiled in his turn. ‘If I might go up?’

      ‘Oh, dear, we could have had a nice little chat. Do you want me to come up with you? Leonora is hoovering the bedrooms; I’m sure she’ll see to anything you may want.’

      The Hoover was making a good deal of noise; he had time to study Leonora’s back view before she turned round. She was wearing a sensible pinny and had tied her hair in a bright scarf; the Hoover, being past its prime, tended to raise almost as much dust as it sucked up.

      She switched it off when she saw him, wished him a good morning and said, ‘You want to see Father? He had quite a good night but he’s chesty…’

      She whipped off the pinny and also the scarf and led him into her father’s room.

      The doctor pronounced himself satisfied with his patient but added that he would need to remain in bed for several days yet. ‘Get up for an hour or so, if you wish,’ he said, ‘but stay in this room. I’ll come and see you again in a couple of days or so.’

      Going downstairs with Leonora, he observed, ‘Your father is by no means out of the woods. He has escaped pneumonia by a whisker and anything other than rest and a warm room, plenty to drink and plenty of sleep is liable to trigger off a more serious condition. He’ll do well if he stays where he is—don’t let him get out of bed for much more than an hour or so.’

      He sounded just like the family doctor, thought Leonora waspishly, but then that was exactly what he was. Did he need to be quite so impersonal, though? After all, they had had lunch together…

      Her mother came into the hall as they reached it and he bade her a pleasant goodbye, added a few reassuring words about Sir William’s condition, smiled briefly at Leonora and drove away, leaving her feeling vaguely unsettled.

      Tony came at the weekend, breezing into the house, explaining that he had torn himself away from his work to take them by surprise.

      ‘You look as though you need a bit of cheering up,’ he told Leonora, who certainly didn’t look her best after four days of coping with her irascible parent. ‘How is Sir William? Not too bad, I hope?’

      ‘He is better, but he has a bad chest; he’s getting up today for a few hours but he mustn’t go outside until his cough has cleared up.’

      ‘Where is that delightful mother of yours?’

      ‘She went to Colonel Howes’ for coffee.’ Leonora hesitated. ‘Tony, would you mind awfully if I left you for a bit? I’ll get some coffee for you and there are the morning papers in the drawing room. I haven’t quite finished the bedrooms and I must make a bed for you. You are staying?’

      ‘Well, of course, if it’s too much bother…’ He contrived to look hurt and she said quickly, ‘No, no, of course it’s not, and I shan’t be long.’

      ‘I’ll go and have a chat with your father,’ suggested Tony, getting out of the chair into which he had flung himself.

      ‘No— Oh, dear, I keep saying no, don’t I? He is shaving and getting dressed. We’ll both be down presently. I’ll just fetch the coffee. Did you have a good trip here?’

      He said sulkily, ‘Not bad. It’s the deuce of a long way from town, though.’

      I ought to be so pleased to see him, reflected Leonora, putting china on a tray and listening to Nanny’s opinion of those who came for the weekend uninvited, but he might have phoned first. ‘I’ll have to go to the butcher’s and get some chops.’ She interrupted Nanny’s indignant flow. ‘Have we plenty of eggs?’ she asked.

      ‘No. We have not. Mr Beamish will have bacon for his breakfast and one or two of those mushrooms Mrs Fleming sent over. The cake’s almost finished too.’

      ‘Oh, I’ll make another one, Nanny—there’ll be time before lunch…’

      ‘There’s the doorbell,’ said Nanny in a voice which suggested that she was much too busy to answer it. So Leonora opened the door, to find Dr Galbraith towering over her. She stared up into his calm face and felt a ridiculous urge to burst into tears. She didn’t say anything and presently he said placidly, ‘I’ve come to see your father.’

      ‘Yes, but—yes, of course. Do come in…’

      ‘You were doing something urgent. If I’m interrupting do go and finish.’ He looked her over slowly. ‘You look put upon. What’s the matter?’

      As Tony came into the hall, the doctor said, ‘Ah, yes, of course,’ in a very quiet voice, and added a much louder, ‘Good morning.’

      ‘Ah, the local GP. Good morning to you. Come to check on the invalid, have you?’

      ‘Yes.’ Dr Galbraith turned towards Leonora. ‘Shall we go up?’

      ‘I’ll come along too—the old chap’s always glad to see me.’

      The doctor was saved the necessity of answering as Nanny came into the hall with the coffee-tray.

      ‘I’m putting your coffee in the drawing room, Mr Beamish; you’ll need to drink it while it’s hot.’

      Tony, although he didn’t like her, did as he was told, mentally promising himself that once he was married to Leonora one of the first of his acts would be to get rid of Nanny.

      Going up the staircase, the doctor noted that Leonora looked less than her best; her hair was tied back and hung in something of a tangle down her back, and she was without make-up, not that that mattered for she had clear skin and a mouth which didn’t need lipstick; moreover, she was wearing an elderly skirt and a sweater with the sleeves rolled up. But none of this really detracted from her undoubted good looks.

      ‘Is Lady Crosby at home?’ he asked casually.

      ‘No, I’m sorry, but she’s having coffee with the Howeses—you’ve met the Colonel and his daughter…’

      He had dined with them on the previous evening but he didn’t say so.

      ‘Don’t you care for visiting?’ he wanted to know.

      ‘Me? Oh, yes, it’s nice meeting people. But today—well, the weekend, you know, and then I didn’t know Tony was coming so there’s a bit more to do.’

      They had reached her father’s door and the doctor didn’t answer.

      Her father was sitting in his dressing gown, looking out of the window. He turned as they went in, saying, ‘Leonora? Is that my coffee? It’s past ten o’clock.’

      He saw the doctor then. ‘Good morning. You see how much better I am. I shall get dressed presently and go downstairs for lunch.’

      ‘Why not?’ The doctor sat down beside him. ‘Such a delightful view from this window even at this time of the year. How is the cough?’

      ‘Better—much better—and I’ve taken those pills you left for me. Leonora sees to that, don’t you, my dear?’

      Leonora said, ‘Yes, Father,’ and admired the back of the doctor’s head.

      ‘A splendid nurse,’ her father went on. ‘We are indeed lucky to have a daughter who takes such good care of us both.’