The House of Discontent Read Online Free

Church Carding, but Peter had insisted on sending a hired car into Shrewsbury to meet her, and when Peter was insistent about a thing he always carried his point, though usually in an argument with Dorothy he did not care sufficiently about the issue to press it. He was not a weak man, but he would put up with a great deal for the sake of peace—a characteristic which is often mistaken for weakness.
    Dorothy, defeated on this occasion, grudgingly ordered the car, but availed herself of the last word by saying:
    “Well, you’ll give the wrong impression to start with. She’ll think we’re millionaires. Don’t blame me if she arrives now expecting to be waited on hand and foot. Don’t blame me if Mrs. Milne gives in her notice, but don’t expect me to find another cook, that’s all I say ... I would have gone to the station to meet her if she had been arriving at Carding, but I haven’t got the time to waste going all the way into Shrewsbury ... It’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard of!”
    “I expect it would be difficult for her to change, mother,” Mary put in. “She’s probably got a lot of luggage.” Mary invariably tried to make peace, and as invariably succeeded only in making matters worse. She had never learnt that when her mother was in one of her “states” it was better to say nothing.
    “Luggage!” Dorothy retorted. “She’d better not have much luggage. Where do you think we are going to put it? We are cramped enough as it is.”
    “Could I go to Shrewsbury to meet her?” Mary asked timidly, almost knowing beforehand that the request would be refused, and indeed it was on the tip of Dorothy’s tongue to utter an indignant “No,” when Peter answered firmly: “Yes, Mary, that is a very good idea,” and Dorothy was unable to think of any reason for stopping her.
    Patricia had no idea who, if anyone, was going to meet her at the station. She was vaguely looking out for Uncle Peter, and wondering whether she would recognize him again. She was sure she would not recognize Aunt Dorothy. She had a hazy recollection of Edward and Mary and of the big house in which they lived from the only time she had stayed there, but she could not have been more than seven or eight on that occasion. She certainly did not recognize the shy, rather dowdy girl who approached her now along the platform as her Cousin Mary.
    “Are you for The Knowle, Church Carding?” the girl asked her.
    “Yes, that’s right.”
    “Then you’re Patricia. I’m Mary.” And Mary smiled a welcome which transformed her whole face. “This is the way. There’s a car outside.”
    On the drive to Church Carding they had the opportunity of getting better acquainted, and though they were both a little shy to start with, they were instinctively drawn to each other, and their shyness soon wore off.
    Patricia was delighted to find Mary so natural and unaffected (she had been terrified of finding a grand, haughty, young cousin), while Mary, for her part, thought Patricia the most beautiful as well as the most charming person she had ever met. She felt already that she could easily grow to love her.
    She confessed a little diffidently that they would be sharing a room, and hoped that she would not mind too much.
    “But how lovely!” Patricia exclaimed. “Then I shan’t feel a bit lonely or shy or homesick.” She began to ask Mary all about The Knowle, and the kind of life they lived there.
    “I haven’t properly finished my education yet,” Mary told her. “I still go to classes in Shrewsbury, but only three times a week. For the rest of the time I work in the garden. We used to have two gardeners but now we’ve only got a boy. He and I do the garden between us. It’s extraordinary how much one learns when one has to do it oneself. I used not to like gardening a bit, but now I simply adore it. Mother made me choose between doing the housework or the garden, and I chose the garden.”
    “But it’s an awful lot for