Love Finds a Home (Love Comes Softly Series #8) by Janette Oke
Authors: Janette Oke
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Love Stories, Large Type Books, Religious - General, Religious, Christian, Christianity, Romance - General, Fiction - Religious, Davis family (Fictitious characters : Oke), Christianity: General, Large Print
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next morning. When she finally did open her eyes and study her clock, she was shocked to see that it was quarter of ten. She threw back her covers and rang for Ella.
Ella responded immediately, and Belinda stopped brushing her hair long enough to say, "Run my bath, would you, please,
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Ella? I've overslept. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth is due in at twelve- thirty."
Ella nodded. "Windsor has been fretting," she acknowledged.
"Why didn't someone awaken me?"
"We all knew you were tired, miss. Potter said to let you be."
"Potter?" Belinda's eyebrows went up and then she smiled. There had been a time when Potter would have taken delight in seeing her summoned from her bed.
"Cook said to let her know when you were ready for breakfast," declared Ella, coming in the door.
"No breakfast today--I don't have time," Belinda told her. "Tell Cook I'm really not that hungry."
Ella looked troubled. "She'll insist on some fresh juice at least, miss," Ella dared forecast.
"Some juice, then. Up here. And perhaps a scone. That's
all."
Ella left and Belinda hurried to get ready.
At the time previously set by Windsor, Belinda was in the front hall, her hat on straight, her warm coat buttoned properly She was ready to meet the train.
Belinda felt a surge of excitement as the wheels of the carriage bumped along the cobblestone road. It seemed a very long time since she had seen Mrs. Stafford-Smyth. She was looking forward to sharing the news from her hometown. Well, at least some of the news, Belinda thought. She knew she wouldn't share with the older woman all of the thoughts and feelings she'd had while away.
In fact, the more Belinda thought about it, the more she wondered just what she would be able to share. Her trip home had been so . . . so personal . . . even troubling. Maybe she wouldn't dare discuss much of it at all.
94
But she would ask Mrs. Stafford-Smyth to tell her all about her holiday in New York. There certainly would be plenty for them to talk about. She'd hear all about the plays, the concerts, the dress shops. They would talk about all the things Mrs. Stafford-Smyth had experienced--but they would not discuss the conflicting emotions Belinda had battled, she decided.
The train arrived on time, and Belinda held her coat securely about her and scanned the crowd for Mrs. StaffordSmyth. Windsor spotted her first. "There's M'lady!" he exclaimed, and even the proper Windsor could not keep an excited tremor from his voice.
Belinda saw her then and ran to meet her.
"Oh, my deah, my deah!" cried the older woman, "how I have missed you."
There were tears in Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's eyes as she held the girl. If Belinda had doubted the reason why she was back in Boston, she understood and accepted it thoroughly now. She needs me. She really had no one else. A houseful of servants was not family, even though Mrs. Stafford-Smyth cared for each of them.
Windsor ushered the two of them into the carriage, declaring that he would return later for the luggage.
"And how was your trip, deah?" asked the older woman. "Fine," replied Belinda. "I was able to see everyone--well, everyone who still lives at home."
"That's nice," smiled the lady. But in spite of the smile, Belinda noted with some concern the tiredness in Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's face.
"Have you not been feeling well?" Belinda asked.
Mrs. Stafford-Smyth waved the question aside. "I've been fine," she maintained, "just fine."
Belinda did not press her further. "And how was your trip?"
95
she said instead. "I am so anxious to hear all about it. It must have been terribly exciting."
The older woman looked at her evenly. "Well, I must say, not really," she replied at last.
Belinda was surprised. Maybe Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's trip has not gone well. "You aren't telling me something," Belinda said softly. "What is it? Were you sick while you were away?"
Mrs. Stafford-Smyth shook her head, and then tears began to gather and then to run down her face, splashing unheeded into her
Ella responded immediately, and Belinda stopped brushing her hair long enough to say, "Run my bath, would you, please,
93
Ella? I've overslept. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth is due in at twelve- thirty."
Ella nodded. "Windsor has been fretting," she acknowledged.
"Why didn't someone awaken me?"
"We all knew you were tired, miss. Potter said to let you be."
"Potter?" Belinda's eyebrows went up and then she smiled. There had been a time when Potter would have taken delight in seeing her summoned from her bed.
"Cook said to let her know when you were ready for breakfast," declared Ella, coming in the door.
"No breakfast today--I don't have time," Belinda told her. "Tell Cook I'm really not that hungry."
Ella looked troubled. "She'll insist on some fresh juice at least, miss," Ella dared forecast.
"Some juice, then. Up here. And perhaps a scone. That's
all."
Ella left and Belinda hurried to get ready.
At the time previously set by Windsor, Belinda was in the front hall, her hat on straight, her warm coat buttoned properly She was ready to meet the train.
Belinda felt a surge of excitement as the wheels of the carriage bumped along the cobblestone road. It seemed a very long time since she had seen Mrs. Stafford-Smyth. She was looking forward to sharing the news from her hometown. Well, at least some of the news, Belinda thought. She knew she wouldn't share with the older woman all of the thoughts and feelings she'd had while away.
In fact, the more Belinda thought about it, the more she wondered just what she would be able to share. Her trip home had been so . . . so personal . . . even troubling. Maybe she wouldn't dare discuss much of it at all.
94
But she would ask Mrs. Stafford-Smyth to tell her all about her holiday in New York. There certainly would be plenty for them to talk about. She'd hear all about the plays, the concerts, the dress shops. They would talk about all the things Mrs. Stafford-Smyth had experienced--but they would not discuss the conflicting emotions Belinda had battled, she decided.
The train arrived on time, and Belinda held her coat securely about her and scanned the crowd for Mrs. StaffordSmyth. Windsor spotted her first. "There's M'lady!" he exclaimed, and even the proper Windsor could not keep an excited tremor from his voice.
Belinda saw her then and ran to meet her.
"Oh, my deah, my deah!" cried the older woman, "how I have missed you."
There were tears in Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's eyes as she held the girl. If Belinda had doubted the reason why she was back in Boston, she understood and accepted it thoroughly now. She needs me. She really had no one else. A houseful of servants was not family, even though Mrs. Stafford-Smyth cared for each of them.
Windsor ushered the two of them into the carriage, declaring that he would return later for the luggage.
"And how was your trip, deah?" asked the older woman. "Fine," replied Belinda. "I was able to see everyone--well, everyone who still lives at home."
"That's nice," smiled the lady. But in spite of the smile, Belinda noted with some concern the tiredness in Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's face.
"Have you not been feeling well?" Belinda asked.
Mrs. Stafford-Smyth waved the question aside. "I've been fine," she maintained, "just fine."
Belinda did not press her further. "And how was your trip?"
95
she said instead. "I am so anxious to hear all about it. It must have been terribly exciting."
The older woman looked at her evenly. "Well, I must say, not really," she replied at last.
Belinda was surprised. Maybe Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's trip has not gone well. "You aren't telling me something," Belinda said softly. "What is it? Were you sick while you were away?"
Mrs. Stafford-Smyth shook her head, and then tears began to gather and then to run down her face, splashing unheeded into her
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