The English Tutor Read Online Free

easy, leaping strides. No, she must not lose Conn to Kilmallin ’ s wrath. I ’ ll behave, she told herself, but I won ’ t submit. I ’ ll never submit.
    On the other side, Brian waited for her. He seemed to have recovered from his pique at being left behind.
    “ What did Conn say? ” he demanded excitedly. “ Wasn ’ t he amazed? ”
    “ Not very. I think he thought it was a good thing, ” she replied.
    “ So do I. But Agnes says a tutor will destroy me entirely. ”
    “ Agnes talks a lot of nonsense. What does Aunt Bea say? ”
    “ She never says anything—I don ’ t expect she cares. Don ’ t go into the study tonight. Kilmallin ’ s doing accounts. ”
    Clancy sighed. Kilmallin had in his own phraseology been doing accounts a great deal of late. He was drinking far too much.
    Agnes met them in the hall.
    “ Come in out of that, ” she snapped, bustling Brian up the stairs. “ There ’ s mist rising after the rain and your chest will be bad. ”
    Clancy watched them disappear and felt very alone. For no reason, she suddenly remembered those words of her father ’ s, so many years ago. “ If it had to be one of you, Clancy, God help me, it should not have been her. She should have given me another son. ”
    She went into the library, and still in her wet clothes began to write a long letter to her cousin Clodagh in Dublin.

 
    CHAPTER TWO
    THERE was a spell of fine weather following the day of Miss Dillon ’ s departure, and Clancy and Brian, temporarily freed from study, spent much of their time on the loch. Each morning they listened for the postman ’ s shrill whistle and tore down to the gates to collect the letters, inspecting them closely for one from England, but so far there had been nothing.
    Clancy wished that Clodagh would arrive from Dublin with her usual accompaniment of smart luggage and new clothes, but Clodagh was having too good a time in the city just then to spare a visit to her cousins in the west, though she promised to come and inspect the new tutor when he arrived.
    They were all at breakfast when the letter came. Kevin, always restless until the morning papers arrived, paced about the room eating his porridge which he had never been known to take sitting down, while Brian plagued his aunt to know whether the English always dressed for dinner.
    “ I don ’ t know, dear, ” Aunt Bea said vaguely. “ I shouldn ’ t think so, these days. In recent years there have been great changes in England. ”
    “ I don ’ t suppose he ’ ll bring anything dressy here, ” remarked Clancy, with her mouth full. “ The English have queer ideas about us. They think we keep cows and hens in the house and never wash. ”
    “ How disappointed he ’ ll be, ” said Brian. “ We don ’ t even have the dogs in the house and Agnes is always making me wash. Where will he sleep? ”
    “ The tower room, ” said Kevin shortly, from behind Clancy ’ s chair.
    She wriggled round to look at him with disbelief.
    “ The tower room! ” she exclaimed. “ You ’ d give him the tower room where men have watched and waited for the English for generations—the room Grandfather had as his own? ”
    “ Why not? ” snapped Kevin. “ You talk as though the tower room was sacred. ”
    “ It is, ” said Clancy quickly, “ I mean, it ’ s historical. I shouldn ’ t think an Englishman ’ s ever set foot in it. ”
    “ Well, one is going to set foot in it now, ” said Kevin. “ See to it, will you, Bea? ”
    Aunt Bea pursed her lips and looked pained. However, she only said: “ Very well, Kevin, ” and went on with her breakfast.
    Kevin gave her a look. He was not unattached to his si ster and found her useful in many ways, but her vagueness and slight air of martyrdom exasperated him. K ate, now, was quite different. In their young unmarried days, it was always thought that the bouncing, domineering K ate would remain a spinster, but it had been she who had got a husband, and her gentler