Read Ebook: The lonely house by Lowndes Marie Belloc

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 2133 lines and 87211 words, and 43 pages

"They took some of the family documents--not all; so far that is good," said Uncle Angelo at last.

"Would they had taken them all, precious as they are, and left our poor little Lily's money intact!"

"Of course, it's a misfortune," said Lily ruefully. "But never mind, Aunt Cosy. It can't be helped. I didn't even keep the numbers of the notes, so I'm afraid there's no hope of our ever being able to recover them. The police court at Epsom is always shut on Sundays, and I suppose it's the same here?"

No one answered this remark.

"I cannot understand when it happened!" exclaimed the Countess. She turned sternly to Cristina. "Did you oversleep yourself?" she asked accusingly.

"Thank God you did nothing!" said the Count in French, and he really did look agitated at last. "The brigands might have shot you, had you given the alarm!"

As for Cristina, she sat down and, with a dreadful groan, threw her apron over her head and began rocking herself backwards and forwards.

"Be quiet, Cristina!" cried the Countess sharply. But the Count went up to his foster-sister, and patted her kindly on the head.

"You must come to me when you want a little money, dear child," said the Countess, turning to Lily. "Perhaps generous Tom Fairfield will send you another fifty pounds when he hears of your loss?"

"He won't hear of my loss for some time," said Lily, "for he is leaving England to-day for the West Indies. But never mind, Aunt Cosy. I've got a letter of credit on the bank here."

The face of the Countess cleared, and even Uncle Angelo looked round at her, quite an eager look on his fat face.

"I'm very glad to hear that," said the Countess heartily. "Tom is a very generous man. There is nothing low or mean about him."

"He is goodness itself!" said Lily. And then she added a little shyly: "But the money is really mine, Aunt Cosy. Since my twenty-first birthday, which was the tenth of last July, I've had my own banking account. As a matter of fact, Uncle Tom wanted to give me a present, but he didn't quite know what to get, so he gave me the fifty pounds."

"Angelo! See whether among your tools you cannot find something that will at any rate temporarily restore our poor cabinet," said Aunt Cosy briskly.

"As for you and I, dear child, we will go out for a little turn in the garden."

The little turn consisted in Lily and the Countess walking up and down the lawn for half an hour.

For the first time Aunt Cosy asked Lily all kinds of questions about poor Aunt Emmeline's illness and death--also as to whether she, Aunt Emmeline, had been a woman of means--whether she had left dear Lily a legacy--whether The Nest belonged to Uncle Tom, as also the furniture--and finally, whether Uncle Tom was likely to marry again? This last question shocked Lily, but it was evidently a very natural one from the speaker's point of view.

And then, all at once, the Countess exclaimed: "And how about Miss Rosa Fairfield? Is she still living?"

"I wonder you did not do it," said the Countess thoughtfully. "Miss Rosa must be very rich."

"Yes," said Lily. "Cousin Rosa is certainly very rich. But I should have become melancholy mad--living that sort of life!"

There was a pause. "And who will get her money?" asked the Countess.

Lily hesitated a moment--then, "I believe--in fact I know, for she told Uncle Tom so three or four years ago--that I am to have most of it, Aunt Cosy."

There was an extraordinary accent of surprise, excitement, and gratification in Aunt Cosy's vibrant voice.

She stopped in her vigorous walk and turned and faced the girl. "Oh, you English?" she exclaimed. "How unemotional and cold you are! You do not show the slightest joy or excitement when telling this wonderful news. Why, Miss Rosa Fairfield must have--how much?" As Lily said nothing, the Countess went on: "A hundred thousand pounds--that is what poor Emmeline told me!"

"Yes, I believe she has quite that."

"And you do not feel excited?" The Countess Polda gazed searchingly at the now flushed girl.

"I suppose I should have felt excited if I'd suddenly learnt the fact," said Lily slowly; "But I've always known it--in a sort of way. I remember when I was quite a little girl hearing Aunt Rosa say to Uncle Tom that she thought she ought to be consulted about what school I was to be sent to, as I was to be her heiress. But I think Uncle Tom didn't feel quite sure about it till two or three years ago. She sent for him on purpose to read him her will."

"And what is your fortune apart from that, dear child?" asked the Countess abruptly.

It was rather an indiscreet thing to ask, but Lily had a straightforward nature, and, after all, she saw no reason for trying to parry the question. She had always heard that foreigners were very inquisitive.

"My father left me eight thousand pounds," she said quietly. "But Uncle Tom would never take any of the interest of it for my education. He paid for everything, just as if I had been his daughter. So I have got a little over ten thousand pounds now--you see, my parents died when I was such a little child, and the money was very cleverly invested."

"Ah, yes, poor little thing!" exclaimed the Countess affectionately. "Well, even that is a pretty fortune for a young girl!"

She waited a moment as if making a calculation. "That would bring in--yes, if well invested--not far from fifteen thousand francs a year, if I am right. Then you have the enjoyment of that now, dear child?"

"Yes," said Lily, "I suppose I have."

"No wonder you took the disappearance of the fifty pounds in so philosophical a manner!" the Countess laughed rather harshly.

They walked on a few steps. And then Aunt Cosy said suddenly: "You should not tell people of this money, Lily. I hope you do not talk freely to strangers?"

And then the girl did feel a little offended. "I've never spoken of my money matters to any living soul till to-day," she said with some vehemence. "And I shouldn't have said anything to you, Aunt Cosy, if you hadn't asked me!"

"What expression is that?" asked Lily.

"Fortune-hunters are not likely to come across my path," the girl laughed gaily.

"No, not while you are at La Solitude."

The Countess smiled, showing her large, good teeth, which somehow looked false--so even, so strong, so well matched in colour were they. But they were all her own.

As at last they turned to go into the house, the Countess said suddenly: "Another Sunday, my dear Lily, I should like you to go to the English service. It is the proper thing to do."

Lily felt rather taken aback. "I thought of going this morning," she said frankly, "but Cristina seemed to think you would be annoyed if I went off alone to try and find the place by myself."

"I will see in the guide-book if there is an afternoon service," said the Countess hesitatingly. "Your Uncle Angelo might escort you as far as the door of the hotel where the English clergyman now officiates. I should not like you to walk about Monte Carlo alone."

There was a pause. "I think M. Popeau and Captain Stuart are coming to-day," said Lily at last. She could not keep herself from blushing a little.

"Captain Stuart?" echoed the Countess sharply. "And who, pray, is Captain Stuart?"

Lily could not help smiling a little satirically to herself. Aunt Cosy's love of money jarred upon her. It reminded her of the story of the man who, when his wife asked him to call on some people, giving as a reason that they were very rich, answered: "I would, my dear, if it were catching!"

Lily's first real luncheon at La Solitude consisted of the remains of last night's excellent, almost luxurious supper. But a rough-looking, unbleached tablecloth had taken the place of the beautiful lace one, and the fine cut-glass decanters had disappeared from the sideboard.

They all three drank out of coarse, thick glass tumblers, and they ate off heavy yellow plates. But the food was of the best, and they all make a good and hearty meal--once, indeed, Aunt Cosy, looking affectionately at the girl, exclaimed: "Yes, do not stint yourself, my little Lily, for we have to live as a rule exceedingly simply. It is a strange fact"--a hard tone came into her voice--"that Cristina has never learnt to cook. Even I can cook better than Cristina!"

She looked at her husband as she spoke, and he, glancing up, observed in French: "She does well enough. We have to buy cooked food, as fuel is so dear."

"Yes," said the Countess crossly, "but fuel was not always dear. And Cristina always cooked badly." She turned to Lily: "I had thought of asking you if you knew a little simple cooking--the delicious milk puddings that I used to have at The Nest long years ago even now make my mouth water, as you so funnily say in England. They are nutritious, and at the same time cheap. But they do not teach English girls to do such useful things."

"Indeed they do!" answered Lily, smiling. "I'll cook you a rice pudding to-night, if you like, Aunt Cosy, though I don't know if I shall be able to brown the top properly as you haven't got an oven!"

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet