The Quiet Heart by Susan Barrie Page A

thoughtfully.
    “If it won’t complicate things for you. That first day I arrived here ... I realise I was a bit inconsiderate. I exposed you to a biting wind on the roof-top, and it’s you who should have gone down with a bad bout of ’flu, or whatever it was I’ve had. Mr. Minty found it hard to forgive me for my treatment of you that day.” He smiled reminiscently. “Old Minty may strike you as a bit of a dried-up stick, but he’s basically intensely human. I had no idea when I brought him here that he looks upon you as an ill-used but thoroughly admirable young woman ... indeed, I think you ought to know that he’s quite an admirer. A confirmed bachelor, of course, but an admirer just the same.”
    She was genuinely surprised. It had never even occurred to her that the Leydons’ solicitor was capable of admiring anyone. And then she realised that the whimsical look was back on his face, and she spoke hastily:
    “I hope you won’t get the wrong idea, Mr. Leydon, if I make a suggestion—” despite an invitation to call him Charles she had not so far taken advantage of it. “I know that this room is not really a very comfortable room, and if you’re going to stay on here you’ll need somewhere to sit and have your meals. The library is far too big to be heated adequately, and that of course goes for the dining-room. Without central heating I don’t honestly think it would be safe for you to consider living in the main part of the house, not even for a short time. You have just been very ill, and we can’t risk your being ill again—”
    “So?” he enquired, as if she already had him intrigued.
    She rushed on impulsively:
    “My flat isn’t large enough to ask you to—to stay with us. But there are rooms in the corridor communicating with the south tower that could be converted to your use. It wouldn’t take long to get them ready, and it would be no trouble at all. Mrs. Davenport and I, between us, could soon have them ready for you—”
    “I’ve no doubt.” He sounded cynically amused. “You would indulge in one of your marathon spring-cleans and take over the job of furniture removers in order to ensure my comfort. I shall begin to believe, soon, that you like polishing furniture—”
    “I do!”
    His glance flickered over her in a strangely inscrutable manner.
    “What else do you like? Cooking for a man who can do nothing but sit about all day and bore himself as much as everyone else? Washing and ironing, perhaps? You’ll be offering to do my mending next!”
    She sat back on her heels and her attractive mouth curved upwards pleasingly at the corners.
    “I’ve already sewn on a button for you,” she admitted, dimpling. “But your clothes are in such excellent condition that they won’t require any mending for ages yet. And by the time they do I expect you’ll discard them. But I’m certainly prepared to undertake your laundry while you’re here—I’ve an excellent washing-machine that does the job for me. And if you move into the rooms I have in mind for you I can cook for you in my own kitchen, and that will be far more convenient than preparing meals in that enormous kitchen where I cooked dinner for you on the night that Mr. Minty dined with you. So you see, I’m really thinking of myself as much as you when I say I really think you ought to make the move.”
    He lay back in his chair and shut his eyes.
    “I don’t believe you ever think of yourself,” he said, “so you needn’t trot that one out.”
    She assured him that she frequently thought of herself.
    Without opening his eyes he uttered a sceptical sound.
    “When do you want me to move?”
    “As soon as the rooms are ready for you. As soon as there’s no danger of your taking cold in them, and they’re properly aired and heated.”
    “You women and your airing! I remember my mother had a mania for airing things!” He opened his eyes, and although his expression was difficult to read there was a darkness and