Return to Tremarth by Susan Barrie

Author:Susan Barrie [Author, Unknown]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-12-27T16:06:21+00:00

Charlotte was suddenly and very genuinely concerned for her friend.

“You’ll be worn out,” she protested.

Hannah denied that she would be anything of the kind.

“I’m tough,” she assured Charlotte. “And I’ve done this kind of thing before. But perhaps, if it’s necessary to sit with him to-morrow night, I’ll let you relieve me for a few of the darkest hours of the night. However, it’s quite possible that he’ll be very much better tomorrow.”

“I hope so,” Charlotte breathed, and Hannah looked mildly taken aback by her strange earnestness. “I really do hope so!”

CHAPTER V

CHARLOTTE quite enjoyed herself in Truro the following afternoon, spending money freely or as freely as she dared — and buying all sorts of dainties for her invalid at Tremarth. She would not normally have purchased hot-house grapes at the price she paid for them, but for Richard Tremarth they seemed a good idea. And so did avocado pears and peaches, a brace of partridges (out of season, of course, and therefore very expensive) some smoked salmon and a clutch of plover’s eggs. She didn’t know why she bought the plover’s eggs, except that they, too, seemed a good idea, and if Tremarth’s appetite was likely to be as elusive as his memory he would require tempting in order that his strength should be maintained.

Lastly, before she turned her car for home, she bought magazines and paperbacks, and then with the boot of the car loaded set off out of the car-park. The Cornish countryside that surrounds its somewhat dour capital — built upon granite over which the waves of the sea once washed, and therefore understandably a little detached and divorced from the encroachments of a modem world — is extremely attractive, and Charlotte certainly found it so as she drove along at a steady forty miles an hour, and felt for no easily understandable reason a desire to sing.

Flowers ... she thought suddenly. She might have added to her expenditure, by buying some really wonderful hot-house flowers for the invalid’s room, but the reason she had hesitated was because there were so many sweetly scented ones in the garden at Tremarth. And nothing could really improve upon a bowl of roses. She would take the scissors when she got back and snip, snip, snip until she had enough to fill a charming and rather valuable silver bowl that stood on the hall table at Tremarth and carry it up to gladden the invalid’s eyes. She

would place it on his dressing-table, where he could see it easily....

And she might place one or two choicer blooms in a glass beside his bed. If he was as bewildered as his dark eyes indicated the roses might give him comfort.

When she came in sight of Tremarth. after driving up over a cliff-top that was brilliantly green in the evening light, she could not prevent herself from feeling profound satisfaction as she viewed the pleasing outlines of her own house. It was such a very, very beautiful house in an even

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