happy excitement.
Modest and retiring by nature, the very fact that she was immured in the classroom all day, and that her lodgings were a little way from the centre of Thrush Green, meant that she had made few friends in the neighbourhood.
Be civil to all,
But familiar with few,
was a precept hung upon the shop wall of her father, the shoemaker. It certainly summed up his attitude to his customers and to his chapel acquaintances. There was little entertaining done. It was not only that money was short. It was an inherent timidity which restrained the shoemaker from giving cause for comment or ridicule. He was a great one for 'keeping himself to himself, and Agnes took after him.
The inhabitants of Thrush Green were fond of her. Many of them remembered her from their schooldays, and always with affection and respect. But Agnes Fogerty was not the sort of person in whom one could confide-or, for that matter, in whom one could arouse laughter or rage. Always kind, always ladylike, shiningly honest and conscientious, these very attributes seemed to surround her with an invisible guard which no one had completely penetrated.
Except Isobel. Perhaps it was because they had first met when they were both young and vulnerable, thrown together in the alien world of college, and grateful for the common memories of their Cotswold background. This friendship had survived the years, the changes of fortune and the many miles between them.
To Isobel it was a source of comfort and quiet pleasure. To Agnes it was much more. She never ceased to wonder that Isobel, so much cleverer, so much more beautiful, so much more prosperous, could still enjoy her own, limited company. Their friendship was an inspiration to the quiet school teacher, and did much to mitigate the fact that she had so few friends at Thrush Green.
Of course, she counted her headmistress, Miss Watson, as a friend, and was glad to hear her confidences and hopes. In times of stress, Agnes knew that she had been of real help, and the thought warmed her. But that inherent timidity, inculcated by her father, made her careful of overstepping the bounds of propriety.
Miss Watson was The Head. She was An Assistant. Nothing could alter those two facts, and Agnes was careful to keep a certain distance between them, as was only right and proper. Although, sometimes, she had a pang of regret.
It seemed so silly that two grown women, both single, both lonely at times, should not become closer in friendship. And yet, any overtures must, of course, come from Miss Watson. It would look pushing if she herself made the running.
Miss Fogerty remembered how much she had enjoyed being of use to Miss Watson on one or two occasions when accident or ill-health had indisposed her headmistress. She was always so grateful for any little kindnesses done, thought Agnes, and for this generosity of spirit it was worth ignoring the minor pinpricks which daily companionship sometimes brought, such as the wounding words on the recent occasion of the leaking fish tank. Perhaps she was over-sensitive about these things? Or perhaps she was getting prickly in her old age?
Well, whatever the cause, the fact that Isobel was in Thrush Green for a week, wiped out any unhappy feelings. For the next few days she intended to see her old friend as often as her duties would allow.
The May sunshine which warmed Thrush Green only increased the inner glow of little Miss Fogerty's heart. An invitation to drinks from Ella was 'accepted with the greatest pleasure' and, in this case, with perfect truth.
Robert Bassett's returning strength was noted with much relief at Thrush Green. Already he had spent an evening playing bridge at Winnie Bailey's in the company of his wife, the Hursts who lived next door at Tullivers, and Charles and Dimity Henstock.
His daily walk grew a little longer, and he began to plan a walk downhill to Lulling in the near future.
Joan and Ruth and his son-in-law Doctor Lovell were beginning to
Modest and retiring by nature, the very fact that she was immured in the classroom all day, and that her lodgings were a little way from the centre of Thrush Green, meant that she had made few friends in the neighbourhood.
Be civil to all,
But familiar with few,
was a precept hung upon the shop wall of her father, the shoemaker. It certainly summed up his attitude to his customers and to his chapel acquaintances. There was little entertaining done. It was not only that money was short. It was an inherent timidity which restrained the shoemaker from giving cause for comment or ridicule. He was a great one for 'keeping himself to himself, and Agnes took after him.
The inhabitants of Thrush Green were fond of her. Many of them remembered her from their schooldays, and always with affection and respect. But Agnes Fogerty was not the sort of person in whom one could confide-or, for that matter, in whom one could arouse laughter or rage. Always kind, always ladylike, shiningly honest and conscientious, these very attributes seemed to surround her with an invisible guard which no one had completely penetrated.
Except Isobel. Perhaps it was because they had first met when they were both young and vulnerable, thrown together in the alien world of college, and grateful for the common memories of their Cotswold background. This friendship had survived the years, the changes of fortune and the many miles between them.
To Isobel it was a source of comfort and quiet pleasure. To Agnes it was much more. She never ceased to wonder that Isobel, so much cleverer, so much more beautiful, so much more prosperous, could still enjoy her own, limited company. Their friendship was an inspiration to the quiet school teacher, and did much to mitigate the fact that she had so few friends at Thrush Green.
Of course, she counted her headmistress, Miss Watson, as a friend, and was glad to hear her confidences and hopes. In times of stress, Agnes knew that she had been of real help, and the thought warmed her. But that inherent timidity, inculcated by her father, made her careful of overstepping the bounds of propriety.
Miss Watson was The Head. She was An Assistant. Nothing could alter those two facts, and Agnes was careful to keep a certain distance between them, as was only right and proper. Although, sometimes, she had a pang of regret.
It seemed so silly that two grown women, both single, both lonely at times, should not become closer in friendship. And yet, any overtures must, of course, come from Miss Watson. It would look pushing if she herself made the running.
Miss Fogerty remembered how much she had enjoyed being of use to Miss Watson on one or two occasions when accident or ill-health had indisposed her headmistress. She was always so grateful for any little kindnesses done, thought Agnes, and for this generosity of spirit it was worth ignoring the minor pinpricks which daily companionship sometimes brought, such as the wounding words on the recent occasion of the leaking fish tank. Perhaps she was over-sensitive about these things? Or perhaps she was getting prickly in her old age?
Well, whatever the cause, the fact that Isobel was in Thrush Green for a week, wiped out any unhappy feelings. For the next few days she intended to see her old friend as often as her duties would allow.
The May sunshine which warmed Thrush Green only increased the inner glow of little Miss Fogerty's heart. An invitation to drinks from Ella was 'accepted with the greatest pleasure' and, in this case, with perfect truth.
Robert Bassett's returning strength was noted with much relief at Thrush Green. Already he had spent an evening playing bridge at Winnie Bailey's in the company of his wife, the Hursts who lived next door at Tullivers, and Charles and Dimity Henstock.
His daily walk grew a little longer, and he began to plan a walk downhill to Lulling in the near future.
Joan and Ruth and his son-in-law Doctor Lovell were beginning to
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