The Return of the Gypsy by Philippa Carr Read Free Book Online Page B

worries me,” went on Claudine. “We shall have to take special care of her.”
    Poor Dolly! She was like one in a dream. She spent a great deal of time at Enderby where she was warmly welcomed by Aunt Sophie—herself the victim of misfortune, she was always ready to show sympathy to those whom life had treated ill.
    The day of the funeral came. Claudine arranged it all. Dolly had listlessly stood aside and accepted help. We all attended the church and followed the coffin to the grave. Poor Dolly, chief mourner, she looked so frail and white; and at times of emotion that deformity in her face seemed more prominent. Even Aunt Sophie attended in deep black with a black chiffon hood hiding half of her face; she looked very strange standing there at the grave like some big black bird, a prophet of doom. But Dolly kept close to her and clearly drew more comfort from her than from Claudine who was doing so much to help.
    Claudine had insisted that the funeral party come back to Eversleigh, so there they all were, talking about Mrs. Trent and how well she had cared for her grand-daughter, and how well she had managed Grasslands, not an easy job for a woman even though she had a good manager. We remembered all the pleasant things about Mrs. Trent as people always do at funerals. I had heard people say—when she was living—that she was an old witch and that if she had been different, her grand-daughter Evie would never have committed suicide when she found herself pregnant, and that poor Dolly had a “life of it” looking after her. But she was dead and death wipes away a person’s faults and gives virtue in their place.
    But Mrs. Trent’s virtues were discussed with not so much fervour as was the reason for her sudden departure from the comforts of Grasslands to go out into the bitterly cold winter’s night.
    Claudine said that Dolly must stay at Eversleigh for a few days, but Aunt Sophie insisted that she go to Enderby; and it was clear that this was Dolly’s preference. So Dolly stayed with Aunt Sophie for a week after the funeral and then she returned to Grasslands. Claudine said that we must all keep an eye on her and do what we could to help her over this terrible tragedy.
    One day when Claudine returned home from visiting Aunt Sophie, she looked very grave and I saw from her expression that something had happened. She went straight to my mother and they were closeted together for a long time.
    “Something is going on,” I said to Amaryllis and she agreed with me.
    “I’m going to find out,” I added. “It’s something about Aunt Sophie because it is since your mother came back from there that it started.”
    I made a few tentative enquiries in the kitchens but I could glean nothing there so I decided to ask my mother.
    I had always been treated in a rather special way by my mother. It may have been that she was older than most mothers are when their children are born, and she did tend to treat me more as an adult than Claudine and David did Amaryllis. It may have been that I was more anxious to be regarded so than Amaryllis. “Pushing,” as some of the servants called it.
    So when I found my mother in one of what I called her dreamy moods, I asked her outright if there was something going on, some secret adult matter which was considered to be not for the ears of the young.
    She looked at me and smiled. “So you have noticed,” she said. “My goodness, Jessica, you are like a detective. You notice everything.”
    “This is rather obvious. Claudine went to Aunt Sophie and came back, well… secretive … anxious and strange.”
    “Yes, there is something, but it is not Aunt Sophie. You will have to know in due course, so why not now?”
    “Yes, you might as well tell me,” I agreed eagerly.
    “It’s Dolly. She is going to have a baby.”
    “But she is not married!”
    “People occasionally have babies when they are not married.”
    “You mean …”
    “That is what is troubling us. Dolly herself