Doctor's Orders by Eleanor Farnes Read Free Book Online

turned to Anthea. “If you do as I say,” he said, “you will not regret it. My secretary will write to you about it.”
    He stood back to watch them go, and then turned towards the house. Diana sat back in the car, hoping that Anthea would not talk. But Anthea wanted to talk about several things and she was not at all good-tempered about them, so that Diana had to wait until later, to think about the doctor; and as she was always ready for dinner before Anthea, she waited for her on their balcony.
    He had been so angry at the conclusion of their visit, she thought. He would have liked to shake some sense into Anthea; and he obviously thought that she, Diana, was tarred with the same brush. His anger had disappeared as if by magic, though, at sight of the little boy, and he had been affectionate, warm and interested. Then he had seemed to change quickly again when Antoinette appeared on the scene, still warm, interested, even affectionate, but in a different way. Yes, she told herself, it was as well you saw him with Antoinette. Not much chance of mistaking what the feeling is there. If Dr. Armand Frederic is the stuff that dreams are made on, they are not your dreams, Diana Pevrill, and you will do well to remember it.
    It was sensible advice to herself, but oddly depressing. It was only with difficulty that she could shake off the slight depression, but she had to do it, knowing that when she met Anthea for dinner she would have yet another depression to fight.

 
    CHAPTER THREE
    The move to the Kurhaus Morgenberg took place a week or so after Anthea’s decision to do as the doctor advised. The news of her departure had been received by the young men of the Hotel Splendide with protest and objections. The air here was wonderful and would do her a great amount of good. She would perish of frustration up in the mountains, and the lack of congenial companionship would do her more harm than ever the Splendide would. When they saw that she had to go, they gave her a little farewell party, and this party itself showed Diana the wisdom o f their decision. Anthea was reckless and gay, dancing and drinking and finishing off the evening with a speedy trip across the lake in the motor launch; so that next morning, when they were due to depart, she was feeling very tired, rather ill, and quite unequal to the drive into the mountains. When she felt like this, even she saw that something must be done about her health, and it was a subdued Anthea who allowed Diana to help her into the car in the afternoon, and who left her to cope with all the arrangements for the journey and all the luggage.
    Diana, in spite of the fact that she had loved the position of the hotel, and her wonderful view across the lake, was not sorry to leave the Splendide. It seemed to her that they had known all the wrong people, doubtless the ones that Anthea preferred, but not the kind she liked to meet herself. The rather raffish young men, the good-time people, seemed to be the kind that Anthea attracted, and Diana was hoping that the hotel in the mountains would be too quiet for such people.
    It proved to be so. They drove up to it as the evening was darkening, and it stood isolated on the slope of the mountain. Beyond it, the road dwindled into a rough track which led to the farm buildings connected with the hotel, and then on, round the mountain, to a small hamlet, a handful of chalets grouped together for comfort and company, whose occupants rarely left their homes for the valley. The peace of the evening had settled over the hills and valleys, and the hotel, on its natural plateau, seemed a welcoming place. The plateau was very small, doing little more than accommodate the hotel and its garden. The mountain rose higher behind it, and sloped away before it, revealing one of the inescapably beautiful views to be found everywhere in this country; the green hillsides dipping down to the lakes, sometimes fir-clad, sometimes grey with boulders and rock faces;