Rainbow for Megan Read Online Free Page A

?'
    Megan nodded warily.
    `Young or old?' persisted Iris.
    Megan grinned, for she could see the purpose behind the question. 'Oldish,' she said.
    `Married ?' queried Iris.
    Still smiling, Megan thought Iris was running true to type. It was nice to be able to get some of her own back. 'There's nothing doing in that line,' she chuckled. 'He's not what you might call sociable, and a slavedriver to boot. Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I stick it.'
    Iris's cold blue eyes rested calculatingly on her. `Why do you, then ?' she asked in a voice that said she didn't believe a word of it.
    `The money, of course,' answered Megan promptly. `The salary's fantastic. So I swallow my resentment.'
    Iris got up to leave, her purpose now fulfilled. `Well, we shall soon see how sociable he is, shan't we? I'm making a collection on behalf of the Church restoration fund.' She looked back at Megan. 'He's not an atheist, I trust ?'
    Megan grinned back at her, and asked a question of her own. 'How long have you been associated with that fund?'
    Iris's eyebrows rose haughtily. 'Oh, I help out now
    and again,' she returned coldly. 'What's the best time to call?'
    Sadly eyeing her, Megan thought that she had no sense of humour. 'Would you like me to make an appointment for you?' she asked wickedly.
    Iris stared at her. 'Is he that important?' she queried.
    Megan nodded decisively. 'Oh yes. And he's a stickler for the proper procedure. Time is money to him.'
    Iris was impressed. 'Er ... well, perhaps you'd just mention I'm calling on Tuesday morning. What time does he have coffee ?'
    Ten out of ten for trying, thought Megan. 'Well, he has no set time for it,' she said carefully. `I'll tell him you're calling, but don't blame me if he won't see you,' she added with relish.
    That evening, Megan told her father about Ray. `It just shows,' she said musingly, 'how you can get an entirely wrong impression of someone.' She looked at her father. 'Tell me, Father, what did you really think of him when he called?'
    Mr. Shaw smiled. 'What he intended me to think, I'm afraid,' he said, 'a bit pompous.'
    Megan's smile widened. 'It's a deliberate front he puts up to keep people away. Do you know what he said ?' she asked suddenly, her head on one side. 'He
    envies you. He said something about your being content to live in the shade, or words to that effect.'
    `Did he, now ?' murmured Mr. Shaw. 'Well, he's right about one thing. I'm content.' He ruffled Megan's hair affectionately, then sighed. 'The maim-script was returned again this morning '
    Giving him a sympathetic look Megan asked, 'Want me to look out more names for you?'
    He shook his head. 'I've still two in mind. I'll get you to post it off again on your way to work on Monday.'

CHAPTER THREE
    MEGAN spent Saturday and Sunday catching up on her father's work. He protested, but she carried on in spite of his assertion that there was no rush now. 'I haven't anything else to do,' she said airily.
    `Aren't you going to Clock House ?' he asked. 'I thought you said Alain was home.'
    `I expect Iris is there,' Megan said darkly. 'I don't want to cramp her style—or Alain's, come to that.'
    Her father blinked rapidly and looked at her. `Really, what odd expressions you use, child. What am I to deduce from that remark ?'
    Megan grinned impishly. 'Well, I'm not sure who's courting whom, but someone's courting someone, if you see what I mean.'
    Mr. Shaw still looked slightly bewildered, then his brow cleared. 'Oh, Alain's courting, you mean ? Well, it's about time he settled down, I suppose. Who did you say the girl was?'
    She supplied the name again.
    Her father frowned. 'Iris?' he said. 'Have I met her ?'
    Megan sighed. Her father rarely came down from
    the clouds to meet anyone. 'The fair girl who called on Friday,' she said patiently.
    `Oh, that one,' he said. He didn't sound awfully impressed, Megan thought. Iris would be pleased !
    On Sunday evening Megan collected Chas, Mrs. Jones's dog. It had become a ritual for