The Young Intruder Read Online Free

mischievously. Alison looked quickly at him, and then quickly towards Peter, who was unfurling his napkin and apparently taking no notice.
    “Does that complicate matters?” she asked Douglas.
    “ I think it makes them a whole lot more interesting,” he said. He laughed, with a note of pure gaiety in his laugh that caused Peter to glance at Mm quickly. What a good t hi ng, he thought, if her coming brings some interest and fun into Douglas’s tedious life. He looked at Alison with more attention, when he was unobserved. Yes, she was more than just a charming c hi ld; she was a most attractive one. That golden hair, bright under the many lights of the chandelier, those wide, grey eyes, those sweetly curving lips, still innocent of lipstick, added up to a very pretty picture. He hoped that she would, indeed, enliven the slow tedium of Douglas’s journey to recovery.

 
    CHAPTER TWO
    NEXT morning, Alison was awake early, and slipped out of bed to draw back her curtains. There was nothing very exciting in the view of the street presented to her, so she turned back to look once more at her room, and discovered that it really was as beautiful as it had seemed last night. The soft grey-green carpet was thick, comforting to the feet. The quilted bed-head and the heavy silk bedcovers were of restful sea-green, and the white curtains were hand-printed with a leaf design in green. The furniture was simple, in a beautiful wood which Alison did not recognise as sycamore. There was a small writing table with a little armchair before it; the bedside table held a delicate, enamelled clock, and a small bookshelf on the other side of the bed was filled with new books. Everything was there for her comfort, and her heart warmed to Peter for his generosity.
    She was ready to go down long before there were signs of other people stirring in the house. She wanted suddenly to go out in the London streets in the sunshine of an early spring morning; and putting on her coat, she slipped downstairs and out of the house. She took notice of the number of the house, and the names of the streets she went through, still obsessed with the fear of losing herself, and suddenly, at the end of a narrow street, she came to a park. The bare branches showed a haze of green along their darkness, and the grass was vividly green, so that Alison crossed the road to walk the paths with delight. When she had gone a little way, she was surprised to see riders on horseback galloping towards her, and behind them, more riders, some sedately walking their horses, others more friskily in tune with the spring. She was filled with joy, not having expected London to present her with pictures like this. One heard of the sprawling mass of grey streets; one read of the London fogs, but one did not hear of the blue skies, the green parks with tall buildings surrounding them, the early riders.
    When she returned to Peter’s house, she found Priscilla going through the hall, having just seen that Douglas’s tray had gone up to him.
    “Wherever have you been?” asked Priscilla. “We were beginning to be anxious about you.”
    “I went for an early walk,” said Alison apologetically, for obviously Priscilla thought it an odd thing to do.
    She found that Peter was in the dining room, having breakfast. He greeted her pleasantly, not apparently having worried about her whereabouts.
    “Well, you didn’t get lost this time, anyway,” he observed. He was folding his napkin, and Alison saw that he was preparing to go. She wished she had returned a few minutes earlier, when she could have had the pleasure of his company through her meal.
    “Will you have tea or coffee?” asked Priscilla.
    “Tea, please,” said Alison, smiling at her.
    “Oh, then I shall have to order it,” said Priscilla.
    “Don’t order it specially,” replied Alison at once. “Coffee will do, just as well. I love coffee.”
    “No, if you want tea, you’d better have tea.”
    “No, really I would like