No One Now Will Know by E. M. Delafield

Author:E. M. Delafield
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: No One Now Will Know
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 1941-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

(2)

The Newton Players arrived in a big two-horse brake, with Joe Newton’s wife in a stiff white piquè skirt and shirt, and the Newton Players’ cricketing colours—blue and gold stripes on grey—on the band of her straw hat and man’s tie.

She always kept the score.

The fine weather was still unbroken and Cecilia had decided to have the luncheon out of doors, on long trestle tables in front of the conservatory, through which the servants could pass to and from the kitchen premises.

“Kate, run and get some flowers. Go to the kitchen-garden entrance, and the avenue—there are plenty of bluebells and summer snowballs and rhododendrons, and then you won’t spoil the look of the borders.”

“Yes, Mama. But I think Rosalie will be here early. You said I might——”

“Then she can help you. Run along. You’ll find plenty of jam-jars in the pantry. Or tell Emily to fill them up with water and carry them out to the tables for you.”

Kate liked picking and arranging the flowers, although she hated being told to “run along” as if she were seven years old.

She went first to the drive, where the rhododendron bushes were pink and red and purple mounds of colour, some of them too thickly covered in blossom to show any green at all.

As she had expected, she heard wheels on the gravel and saw the Merediths’ pony-cart arrive, with Rosalie in a pale-green frock and a straw hat with white roses driving with a strange lady—who must be the aunt—beside her.

Kate crammed down the flowers in her basket and dashed up to the front door.

Rosalie and the aunt got out, the reins were hitched up until the garden-boy should come and take the heated, panting pony to the stables, and Kate was introduced.

“This is Kate Charlecombe, Aunt Maude. My aunt, Mrs. Troyle, Kate.”

How beautifully Rosalie did everything. She was never shy and awkward, and she was never what Kate’s mother called “forward.”

The aunt, of whom Kate only knew that she was a widow and rather poor, looked exactly like a widow, and that was really all that one noticed about her.

“I think Mama is on the terrace. Isn’t it a lovely day?” Kate said politely, and she took them to find Cecilia. “Shall I finish the flowers, Mama?”

“Yes, do, dear. Perhaps Rosalie would like to help you?”

“Yes, I’d love to,” Rosalie replied.

They went off together, leaving Mrs. Troyle—looking rather frightened—on the terrace with her hostess.

“Mother was very sorry she couldn’t come,” said Rosalie.

“It isn’t easy for her to get away, she’s always got so much to do.”

The Merediths were very badly off, and kept only one maid. It was known, although not mentioned, that Mrs. Meredith did a good deal of her own housework, and could if necessary cook the family meals.

“So long as you’ve come——” began Kate, and then corrected herself. “I mean, I’m very sorry about your mother not being able to, and so will everybody be, but I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you again.”

“So have I,” said Rosalie, and she smiled into Kate’s dazzled eyes as she said it.

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