The girl in the blue dress by Mary Burchell Read Free Book Online

no sharper
inducement to break a silence than the knowledge
that someone's self-respect is toppling.
    In what seemed to her a somewhat artificial tone, Beverley
heard herself say. "Why, how extraordinary to meet you twice in one day' I
suppose you have been to see my friend, Geoffrey Revian, about your
portrait?"
    "My, my portrait?" stammered Sara. And
then she too made an immense effort to recover herself. "Oh, no. That's
finished, you know, and, and hanging in Franklin's study. I came, " She
groped for words, and Beverley actually found herself wishing pitifully that
she could supply her with a good excuse.
    Then Sara rallied herself determinedly and said, almost
calmly, "I came to talk over the possibility of Geoffrey's, of Mr.
Revian's doing a smaller copy for, for my parents. But, if he does, it will be
a secret until it's finished. So, so please don't mention it to my mother."
    "No, of course not, " Beverley promised
gravely. "What a good idea."
    The other girl gave her a searching little glance, as
though she might be wondering if there were a second, ironical meaning to that
remark. But Beverley contrived to look guileless and friendly, and she thought she
heard Sara draw a quick breath of relief.
    "I must go and catch my bus now. I, I thought   I was late, "
Sara glanced at her watch. "That was why I was running."
    "It's all right. It doesn't go until the
half-hour, Beverley assured her, with every
evidence of believing her completely. "May I walk back to the bus-stop with
you?" For she felt she simply could not go straight in and face Geoffrey
yet, with this scene so rawly fresh in her mind".
    "Why, yes, do." Sara, she saw, hardly
knew whether to be relieved at the
naturalness of this or distressed by the necessity of continuing to keep up appearances.
    Beverley turned, and together the girls went back up
the garden path. "I missed my own bus this afternoon, " Beverley said,
by way of innocent conversation. "It's a maddening experience. I can
imagine how anxious you were not to do the same."
    "Did you? I'm so sorry. Why didn't you come back to the house? You must have been ages at the bus-stop
waiting for the next bus. In fact, " Sara glanced at her companion
quickly, as though any unexplained circumstance caused her alarm, "you ought
to have been on the bus I took, then, surely?"
    "No. I got a lift instead, " Beverley
explained. "I had just seen the bus drive off when a car stopped and, I was offered a lift. The driver turned out
to be Mr. Lowell."
    "Franklin?" Sara looked surprised and, again,
vaguely alarmed. "Do you know him, then?"
    "Oh, no. At least, I didn't then. I thought I
recognized him from the photograph in the drawing room which your younger
sister showed me. And when I explained I had
been to the Grange to arrange to do dressmaking for you all, he told me that he was engaged to you."
    "Oh, I see." Sara still spoke a little
hesitantly, as though she were hastily examining the circumstances and finding
them fairly reassuring. "Did he drive you all the way here?"
    "Yes. It was wonderful luck for me. I got home
much earlier than if I had come all round by the bus."
    "I'm glad." Sara sounded genuinely so.
But her tone changed again, as she said, with a not very convincingly casual
air, "Where was he going, then? Surely not, here?"
    "I have no idea." Beverley managed to
sound cheer fully matter-of-fact. "He said something about going to
Steeplemere. He stopped in Binwick only long enough to drop me at my
house."
    "I see." said Sara again. And this time
there was no mistaking the relief in her voice.
    They had reached the bus-stop by now, and Beverley
stood there for a few minutes longer, in friendly conversation. Then the bus
came up, and the girls said a pleasant goodbye to each other. Sara even smiled
and waved through the window as the bus moved off. And Beverley had the
impression that she was a good deal reassured, and fairly well satisfied that
she had. not given herself away too badly. After all, why