go to Uncle Percyâs thatâs what youâll be doing!â Una said.
âYou said you werenât going!â
âYouâre making me a little studio instead!â
âIâm trying to make you happy, Una!â
âYou are?â Una threw the words over her shoulder as she sauntered with a tray into the living room.
Enid felt a trembling inside her throat. This will never do! She must say nothing, nothing at all.
But Una returning said that Jack would not be too happy with the state of the living room.
âThen help me as you are supposed to!â Enid flared. She flung the knife down and ran to the bedroom, needing courage to look at herself in the mirror. If he saw her like this!
The rain slanted down past her window, but she didnât see it now as a deterrent. He would come if he wanted to!
She took the pins out of her hair and did it, and poured water into the wash basin, but it looked too cold and uninviting to wash, so she dabbed at her face with the towel trying to take the redness away. She stroked some cream around her nose and dusted on a little powder. That was better!
Outside the window the rain fell hard enough to part the clumps of violets and send the pebbles on the footpath to gather under the gate. It really was too wet for an open sulky.
She looked back at the mirror standing erect and arranging her hands along the bedhead. She was not as tall as Una but elegant and fine looking, as she believed people said.
She saw herself as a portrait hanging. On the rectory wall looking down on him at his desk. She lowered her eyes as if this was how she would look in the picture. My sister-in-law painted my wife, she heard him say, his brown eyes proud. The archdeacon was visiting, very pleased with what she had done to the rectory.
More suitable, much, much more suitable. (Of course I am!)
She moved her lips, wondering if she dared redden them a little as Una was doing.
Una put her head suddenly through the door and Enid jumped, caught out. She shook some hand cream from a bottle onto her hands and began to slide them up and down as if this was what she was there for.
âPlease knock!â she said.
âWhy?â Una said, leaving her face there for a moment before withdrawing it.
When Enid went to the living room, Alex was there in his motoring cap and leather gloves and George was finishing off the teacake alone at the little table. Jack with his jowls showing reddish displeasure was stoking the fire. His teacup was on the mantelpiece. Una, having taken her blue cape from the back verandah where she had had it airing since the funeral, was fastening it over her breasts.
âAlex hasnât had the car out in the rain yet,â she said. âWe are going to see how it goes.â Enid poured herself some tea, keeping her flushed face from them. Were they going Wyndham way? She put the pot down with a trembling hand.
Unaâs eyes were watching her hands, smoothing and straightening her cape. âIf we went Wyndham way we could call and see Violet and Small Henry!â
Enid had no appetite for her tea. But he wouldnât come out of the rectory in this rain!
Alex pretended not to hear. He was going Pambula way. There was a hotel two miles this side where he could stop and show the Barretts the car. Una could sit in the parlour while he had a drink. The Barretts had the first wireless in the district, a feeble thing compared to his machine! There it was by the front gate waiting for them, defying the rain, crouched there with the water rushing under its wheels and down the side curtains. Not a drop inside! He couldnât wait to get in warm and dry with the chance of passing open sulkies and partly exposed buggies with bleak, damp figures angrily slapping at horses as if blaming them for the conditions.
Una was holding the car rug she had chosen in big green checks to match the paint and leather. Jackâs face said plainly he had no
âYou said you werenât going!â
âYouâre making me a little studio instead!â
âIâm trying to make you happy, Una!â
âYou are?â Una threw the words over her shoulder as she sauntered with a tray into the living room.
Enid felt a trembling inside her throat. This will never do! She must say nothing, nothing at all.
But Una returning said that Jack would not be too happy with the state of the living room.
âThen help me as you are supposed to!â Enid flared. She flung the knife down and ran to the bedroom, needing courage to look at herself in the mirror. If he saw her like this!
The rain slanted down past her window, but she didnât see it now as a deterrent. He would come if he wanted to!
She took the pins out of her hair and did it, and poured water into the wash basin, but it looked too cold and uninviting to wash, so she dabbed at her face with the towel trying to take the redness away. She stroked some cream around her nose and dusted on a little powder. That was better!
Outside the window the rain fell hard enough to part the clumps of violets and send the pebbles on the footpath to gather under the gate. It really was too wet for an open sulky.
She looked back at the mirror standing erect and arranging her hands along the bedhead. She was not as tall as Una but elegant and fine looking, as she believed people said.
She saw herself as a portrait hanging. On the rectory wall looking down on him at his desk. She lowered her eyes as if this was how she would look in the picture. My sister-in-law painted my wife, she heard him say, his brown eyes proud. The archdeacon was visiting, very pleased with what she had done to the rectory.
More suitable, much, much more suitable. (Of course I am!)
She moved her lips, wondering if she dared redden them a little as Una was doing.
Una put her head suddenly through the door and Enid jumped, caught out. She shook some hand cream from a bottle onto her hands and began to slide them up and down as if this was what she was there for.
âPlease knock!â she said.
âWhy?â Una said, leaving her face there for a moment before withdrawing it.
When Enid went to the living room, Alex was there in his motoring cap and leather gloves and George was finishing off the teacake alone at the little table. Jack with his jowls showing reddish displeasure was stoking the fire. His teacup was on the mantelpiece. Una, having taken her blue cape from the back verandah where she had had it airing since the funeral, was fastening it over her breasts.
âAlex hasnât had the car out in the rain yet,â she said. âWe are going to see how it goes.â Enid poured herself some tea, keeping her flushed face from them. Were they going Wyndham way? She put the pot down with a trembling hand.
Unaâs eyes were watching her hands, smoothing and straightening her cape. âIf we went Wyndham way we could call and see Violet and Small Henry!â
Enid had no appetite for her tea. But he wouldnât come out of the rectory in this rain!
Alex pretended not to hear. He was going Pambula way. There was a hotel two miles this side where he could stop and show the Barretts the car. Una could sit in the parlour while he had a drink. The Barretts had the first wireless in the district, a feeble thing compared to his machine! There it was by the front gate waiting for them, defying the rain, crouched there with the water rushing under its wheels and down the side curtains. Not a drop inside! He couldnât wait to get in warm and dry with the chance of passing open sulkies and partly exposed buggies with bleak, damp figures angrily slapping at horses as if blaming them for the conditions.
Una was holding the car rug she had chosen in big green checks to match the paint and leather. Jackâs face said plainly he had no
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