A Happy Meeting. Betty Neels

get you to your room and I’ll feed him and take him down to old Mr Fellows and ask if he will keep the beast in his shed…’

      ‘It might be advisable to get Miss Preece up to her bed,’ said the man gently, ‘and since I gather the dog is not welcome here I’ll take him with me. I’m going in to Yeovil; there’s a good vet there.’

      ‘A vet?’ said Cressida sharply. ‘He’s not to be put to sleep…’

      ‘Certainly not. And now, if I may, I’ll carry you indoors and perhaps when we have you settled this animal might be given a small meal.’ And at her look of doubt, ‘I give you my word that he’ll be properly looked after.’ He had spoken quietly but Moggy stood back without a word and allowed him to lift Cressida from the car and carry her into the house.

      ‘Up the stairs,’ she told him gruffly, ‘and down that passage beyond the landing.’

      He went up the wide oak staircase unhurriedly, carrying Cressida with no effort, and waited while Moggy went ahead of them and opened a door at the end of the passage.

      The room was small and plainly furnished and Dr Van der Linus frowned again, for it seemed to him that it was a room suitable to a servant, not the daughter of the house. He laid her gently on the bed and stooped to take a look at the ankle.

      ‘I suggest that you take a couple of paracetamol before you settle for the night,’ he observed, ‘and be sure and get your doctor to come and look at it in the morning. He may wish to re-strap it and give you instructions as to treatment. You will need to keep off your feet for a few days but he will do what is necessary.’ He stood looking down at her. ‘Have you paracetamol? Take two as soon as possible with a drink.’

      He took her hand in his large one. ‘A most unfortunate accident, but you will be quite all right again very shortly. And don’t worry about the dog, I’ll see that it comes to no harm. Goodbye, Miss Preece.’

      She didn’t want him to go; a sensible girl, inured to accepting what life had to offer her, she wished very much that he would stay. But that, of course, was impossible; he was a complete stranger who had happened to turn up just when he was most needed. Then she thanked him in a polite voice tight with pain and watched his vast back go through the door with regret. At least the dog would be safe and her stepmother had been away from home. She comforted herself with that.

      Dr van der Linus trod slowly down the staircase with Moggy leading the way. In the hall he stood still. ‘You will look after Miss Preece? She is in a good deal of pain, but get her into bed with a warm drink and the paracetamol and she should sleep. Her own doctor will prescribe what he thinks fit.’ He smiled down at the severe face. ‘Could I bother you for some water for the dog, and perhaps a slice of bread?’ And at her nod, ‘May I know your name?’

      ‘Mogford—Miss, but Miss Cressy always calls me Moggy, since she was knee-high.’ She went ahead of him. ‘I’ve some soup on the stove; perhaps a drop of that would do the beast some good, then I’ll go and see to Miss Cressy.’

      She led the way into the kitchen and poured soup into a bowl and broke some bread into it. ‘You won’t be long?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Mrs Preece doesn’t hold with animals. It’s a mercy that she’s out… there’ll be a fuss enough over Miss Cressy.’

      ‘Yes. I’m sure your mistress will be upset,’ observed Dr van der Linus smoothly.

      ‘Upset? Oh, she’ll be upset, all right.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘She’ll be back in twenty minutes or so, you’d best hurry.’

      Dr van der Linus’s eyebrows rose but all he said was, ‘I’ll be very quick. Shall I leave the bowl behind a bush for you to collect later?’

      His companion nodded. ‘Thank you for your trouble. You’ve been most kind.’

      She shut the front door upon him and he went to the car, let the dog out while it ate and drank hungrily and then ushered it back in. He had driven a couple of miles and was almost at Templecombe when a car flashed past him. There was a woman driving. Probably Mrs Preece, he reflected as he turned off the road to take the short cut to Yeovil and the vet.

      That gentleman, roused from his comfortable chair by the fire, peered at the dog standing dejectedly on the end of its rope. ‘My dear Aldrik, what on earth have you here?’

      ‘A dog, John. I have acquired him from his rescuer who is unable to offer food and shelter. Found tied to a tree on the other side of Minton Cracknell.’

      ‘Want me to have a look? He’s in pretty poor shape.’ He patted the dog’s matted head. ‘I didn’t know you were over here. Staying with Lady Merrill? You must come and dine one evening before you go back.’

      He led the way through the house and out again into a yard at the back to his surgery. ‘How is the old lady?’

      ‘In splendid form. Her years sit lightly on her.’ He heaved the reluctant dog on to the examination table, gentling him with a steady hand.

      ‘Over here on holiday or doing some work?’

      ‘Oh, a little of both. I’ve had a week in Edinburgh; I’m going on to Bristol to give a series of lectures and then back to London before I go home.’

      ‘Well, dine with us before you leave. Molly will be disappointed if you don’t. How about one evening next week? Any evening, take pot luck.’

      ‘I should like that. May I give you a ring?’

      The vet was bending over the dog. ‘He hasn’t anything broken as far as I can see. Half starved—more than half—and ill-treated—look at these sores. Do you want me to get him fit, or…?’

      ‘Get him fit, will you? I promised his rescuer; a dab of a girl with huge brown eyes.’

      John looked up. ‘You say he was found near Minton Cracknell? That would be Cressida Preece. She brought me a cat a month or two ago—in a bad way, paid to have her cured of burns, quite nasty ones as a result of some lout tying a squib to her tail. She’s still paying me, a bit at a time.’

      ‘And yet she lives in a pleasant house…?’

      ‘Yes but I fancy her life isn’t as pleasant. Her father died some months ago; she lives with her stepmother. Unfortunately he left everything to her under the impression, one presumes, that she would provide for his daughter.’

      Dr van der Linus stroked the trembling dog’s head. ‘Surely in this day and age the girl can leave home and get a job?’

      ‘One would think so, though I don’t imagine she’s trained for anything. What shall I do? Get this beast fit and let her know?’

      ‘No. I’ve taken rather a fancy to him. I’ll take him with me when I go back to Holland. May I leave him with you? My grandmother will be wondering where I have got to.’

      ‘Give me a ring in the morning, and we’ll see how he is after some food and a night’s sleep.’

      The doctor got back into his car and drove away from the town, going north and presently turning into a maze of side-roads which brought him eventually to a small village lying between hilly country. It was indeed a small place, with a church, a handful of cottages, and a handsome vicarage, a shop and a duck pond. He drove through it before turning in between red-brick pillars surmounted by weatherbeaten lions and following a drive between thick undergrowth. It ended in a wide gravel sweep before a red-brick house of the Queen Anne period, light streaming from its windows and ringed around by trees. Dr van der Linus, getting out of his car, thought how welcoming it was. The door was opened as he reached it and a dignified old man, rather shaky on his legs, wished him a good evening and offered the information that Lady Merrill was in the small drawing-room.

      ‘I’m late, Baxter—I got held up. Give me ten minutes before you serve dinner, will you?’ He clapped the old man gently on the shoulders and crossed the hall to one of the open doors.

      The room was a pleasant one, a little