The House of Discontent by Esther Wyndham

now from sickness and headaches, but there was nothing to be done for her but keep her lying perfectly still in a dark room. She had been put in one of the private wards, and the doctor thought it best not to move her, anyway for a few days.
    They found Edward sitting by her when they went in. Mary had only one thought in her mind: would she still be able to go to the dance? She had asked Edward this question several times already and he had parried it, saying that it depended upon how she got on and how quiet she kept and how good she was.
    When the others came in she immediately asked them the same question.
    “Why,” her mother answered, “the dance is on Wednesday and it’s already Sunday today. Of course you won’t be able to go.”
    Whereupon Mary began to cry. The tears ran silently down her cheeks. For the first time Patricia saw Peter really angry. He did not say anything for fear of upsetting Mary more, but Patricia saw the anger in his eyes, and richly as Dorothy deserved it, she felt almost sorry for her. “One day,” she thought, “she will drive him too far,” and a little shiver went through her.
    Patricia and Peter did their best, but Mary was not to be comforted, and she was still crying when they left her. They promised to come back in the afternoon. Edward had slipped out when they came in, and they found him in the corridor talking to Camilla. Dorothy swept by her with only a haughty nod, but Peter stopped and had a word with her.
    “Poor little Mary is so upset that she won’t be able to come to your dance now.”
    “Oh, what a pity. I am sorry,” Camilla said lightly. “I must dash. I wish you’d tell Edward not to talk to me when I’m working, Mr. Leslie,” and she flashed a lovely smile at him over her shoulder as she ran off. “He won’t realize that this is a serious job!” And she disappeared into one of the wards.
    “Lady Brierleigh is expecting us all to lunch,” Edward said. “She told me to tell you. She’s walked on ahead with Anthony, but has left the car for you. Anthony says you can drive it, Patricia. Is that right? I’ll follow on my bike.”
    “How very condescending of her ladyship,” Dorothy muttered. “She didn’t ask if we cared to lunch with her, I take it? She just thinks she can order us about.”
    “Oh, don’t go on like that, mother,” Edward expostulated.
    Peter said nothing, but his eyes were hard. Patricia felt that there was something vaguely ominous in his silence.

 
    CHAPTER SIX
    WHEN Patricia and the Leslies arrived at Brierleigh Cottage they were not shown into the library but into another room, obviously the drawing-room. This room also had a large bay window, but it was a more feminine room, with cream quilted curtains and chair covers, fringed with green. It was a wonderfully light and cheerful little house.
    Anthony poured out sherry for them all and then he steered Patricia over to the window out of earshot of the others. “How does Mary seem?” he asked.
    Patricia told him about her disappointment over the dance. “Poor little thing,” he said. “Look here, can I see her this afternoon? I think I can tell her something to cheer her up.”
    “I wish you would,” Patricia said. “But of course you will have to ask Aunt Dorothy.”
    Lunch was announced at that moment so they had no time for further conversation. Dorothy went out of her way to be pleasant at the beginning of the meal. She was really very pleased and flattered to be lunching with Lady Brierleigh, but nothing on earth would have induced her to own as much. She complimented her hostess on the excellence of the lunch. It was perfectly cooked. There were two boiled chickens with rice, boiled onions, potatoes and carrots, and a fruit flan. They helped themselves at the sideboard.
    “How do you manage about servants?” Dorothy asked. It was really her chief interest in life at the moment.
    “We only have Nellie,” Lady Brierleigh replied, “but she’s a wonder.