The Lorimer Line Read Online Free Page B

address. This was in a respectable area, although not a prosperous one. Margaret was admitted at once and shown to a small room on its upper floor. Like her father, she was shocked by Luisa’s emaciated appearance, but concealed her horror by a close embrace.
    â€˜You should have told me you were returned,’ she said when Luisa had recovered from her surprise at the visit. ‘I am here only to insist that you come to Brinsley House tomorrow for luncheon. I shall expect to hear all your news then. And news of your sister.’
    â€˜My sister?’
    â€˜Have you not been nursing her?’ asked Margaret.
    â€˜Oh yes. That was my reason for leaving Bristol. She recovered quickly, but afterwards I was myself ill.’
    Luisa’s cheeks flushed briefly as she spoke, but at once returned to the unhealthy pallor which Margaret had observed when she first arrived. The skin had tightened over her high cheekbones and her eyes seemed to have sunk into sockets darkened by tiredness. It was difficult to remember how vivacious she had been at their last meeting, and how strikingly good-looking.
    Once Margaret had obtained Luisa’s agreement to come the next day, she turned to leave, feeling that she ought not to prolong an unexpected visit. But her attention was caught by the sound of a cough coming from a dark corner of the room - a sound so small and faint that perhaps only a woman who loved babies as much as Margaret did would have noticed it. She stopped and turned back.
    For a moment the two young women stared at each other. Luisa met Margaret’s gaze steadily. Then shestepped aside, allowing her visitor to go further into the room.
    Looking down into the wooden cradle which stood against the wall, Margaret was amazed. The sleeping baby was very young, but her peaceful face was in an extraordinary way mature. It was impossible to doubt that she was a girl, and one of exceptional beauty. Already all the features of her oval face were perfectly formed.
    â€˜She’s lovely,’ whispered Margaret. ‘Luisa, you should have told me of your marriage.’
    Luisa did not reply and Margaret, startled, looked again into her steady eyes.
    â€˜You mean - ?’ But the question was unnecessary. It was Margaret’s turn now to flush, for it was difficult for her not to feel shocked. ‘It would perhaps be as well,’ she said doubtfully, ‘if we did not mention the baby to Mama.’
    Luisa continued to keep silent, forcing Margaret to make up her own mind. Postponing a decision, she looked again at the baby.
    â€˜What is her name?’
    â€˜She is christened Alexandra. But the name is so long for someone so small. I call her Alexa.’
    â€˜Goodbye, Alexa.’ Margaret stroked the baby’s downy golden hair softly with a finger. Then she kissed Luisa goodbye. It was time to return to the arrangements for the afternoon.
    They had proceeded smoothly in her absence and by two o’clock it was obvious that John Junius’s instructions about the weather had been obeyed. The sun shone from a perfect May sky. Even the wind which at almost every season rushed up the gorge to toss the heads of the chestnuts and acacias on the western boundary of the garden seemed today to be enjoying a Bank Holiday rest. Margaret could think of nothing likely to spoil the occasion except her meeting with Walter Crankshaw.
    What made the situation more difficult was that she hadnever liked to explain her objection to a young man whose reputation was a respectable one. Margaret visited her sick families under the auspices of the Gentlewomen’s Aid to the Distressed, a charity sponsored by the most prominent ladies of the city. They subscribed generously to its purposes and by their names protected the reputations of the younger women who actually ventured into the less pleasant areas of Bristol. Margaret went into the slums without fear of scandal, but even she accepted that there was one