The Shape of Sand by Marjorie Eccles Read Free Book Online Page A

featured, and now she had studied it and considered the possibilities, she had to admit it would solve many problems, in view of the small amount of time left. The only uncertainty seemed to be whether Daisy could stand still long enough to hold the pose, or Vita keep her mind on the subject. “No props will be necessary – we can conceal ourselves beforehand behind a curtain in front of the folly, which can then be drawn – all we need besides is yards and yards of muslin–”
    â€œAnd something underneath it to preserve decency,” added Daisy, with a laugh, looking over Harriet’s shoulder at the diaphanous draperies which covered but did not at all conceal either the limbs or any other bodily parts of the dancing goddesses in the picture. “Otherwise, Mama would have a fit.”
    â€œGood, then that’s settled,” said Vita, with evident relief.
    It was rather unfair of her to have lost interest so quickly, thought Harriet, drawing paper towards her to make a list of what would be needed, since she had been the one who suggested presenting a tableau in the first place, but really, you never knew with Vita; she never thought of anyone but herself and she was good for nothing sensible these days. The only things which absorbed her attention were her dress for The Day, the wedding presents, a few of which had already begun to arrive, and choosing a name for the new house, most of the suggestions for which were either banal or whimsical, and made Daisy hoot with laughter. She couldn’t altogether blame Vita, however, that this tableau as a choice of birthday entertainment lacked originality, and showed no subtlety. It was her own fault, she acknowledged impatiently. She had only agreed to perform the thing at all in a fit of absent mindedness, when she was preoccupied and unsettled by other things – mainly the latest letter from her friend Frances who was – oh, consummation devoutly to be desired! – studying at St Hilda’s College in Oxford. If only, thought Harriet longingly, if only! But her father would entertain no such suggestion. He firmly and honestly believed the highest fulfilment for a woman was that of wife and mother, and that only. And as for Beatrice, she dismissed the idea as just another silly notion being bandied about among young women with advanced opinions and too
much time on their hands, nothing more than a passing whim. Without their support, there was nothing Harriet could do. She did not have enough money of her own to make an independent move, only her dress allowance and, generous though that was, it was not enough. Moreover, though strong-minded, she was not made of the stuff to flout parental authority, mainly because she loved her father too much to hurt him. All the same, she despised herself for not having the courage to stand out over this, and tried to tell herself she could make up in other ways. She could – her heart lurched – marry Kit, for instance. Marry him and make something of him, and perhaps something of herself into the bargain. Or thereby ruin herself.
    â€œI say, he’s rather dashing, isn’t he?” asked Daisy.
    Harriet blinked, and woke up to find the other two had not in fact divined the disturbing direction of her thoughts as she at first imagined, but had moved on to another subject. “Who is?”
    â€œWhy, Mr Iskander, even though his name is Valery!” All three girls giggled, even Harriet, though dashing would not have been a word she would have used to describe their visitor. Less complimentary adjectives sprang to mind. “I must say,” added Daisy, “he seemed rather taken with Mama.”
    â€œWho is not?” asked Vita flippantly.
    Harriet intervened, rather sharply, “More to the point, what did you think of your new governess, Daisy, now that she’s finally arrived?”
    â€œA governess is simply the last thing one would expect her to be