Read (11/13) Celebrations at Thrush Green for Free Online Page A

set out.
    The vicarage hall was also bright with extra polishing by Gladys, a splendid azalea on the hall table, and a Christmas tree standing in the corner.
    Dimity, flushed with her culinary efforts, greeted Isobel and Harold affectionately and ushered them into the drawing-room where Robert Wilberforce was standing.
    He was tall and dark, aged about forty, and looked remarkably healthy, as if he might well take a brisk walk daily over his native fells. He was not handsome, Isobel decided as they were introduced, but attractive in a rugged open-air way. His voice was low with a north-country burr about it, and Harold, who would have liked the biggest villain on earth as carrier of Nathaniel Patten's letters, took to this amiable stranger at once.
    The rector poured drinks and Robert's journey and the providential dispersal of the fog kept the conversation going. A briefcase stood by Robert's chair and Harold was longing to see it opened.
    A few minutes later the door bell rang and Charles hastened to answer it.
    'That will be Miss Mulloy,' cried Dimity. 'I do so hope she had an easy journey.'
    The latest guest came in shyly, warmly greeted by Dimity who led her to the fire and began introductions.
    She was a small woman with soft fair hair, and was clad in a coral-pink jersey suit. Harold thought how pretty she was, this great-grand daughter of Nathaniel's, and remembered the gross unkempt man who was her father. Certainly this fragile-looking girl, whose small cold hand he held, did not take after her paternal parent.

    Over their drinks she grew less shy and told them about her position in an insurance firm in the City, and how she went daily by tube from her flat. Robert knew some of the directors of the company, and the conversation flowed easily.
    Dimity hurried out to the kitchen to supervise the dishing-up operations, and while she was absent the rector said gently how sorry he was to learn that her mother had died, and how they remembered her kindness to them in Wales so long ago.
    The girl looked down at the glass in her hand, and Charles wondered if he had been wrong to mention the subject, but Dulcie spoke calmly.
    'We had two lovely years together in my flat,' she said, 'before she fell ill. I think they were the happiest years of both our lives.'
    'So you live alone now?'
    'At the moment. I suppose it would be sensible to get a friend to share with me, but I'm rather enjoying being on my own.'
    'A lot to be said for it,' agreed Robert Wilberforce, 'but who looks after you?'
    Dulcie looked bewildered. 'I look after myself.'
    'But when you get home,' insisted Robert, 'who cooks a meal and so on?'
    'Why, I do. It's no bother.'
    Robert laughed. 'I suppose I'm spoilt. My housekeeper, Mrs Tanner, cooks and washes and does everything in the house for me. She's a Yorkshire lass and everything's kept at a pretty high standard. I have to leave muddy shoes in the porch.'
    At this point, Dimity summoned them to the dining-room. Over the meal Charles enlarged on the excitement that had been engendered by Robert's gift of the letters to Thrush Green.
    'Well, I must confess I had never heard of him until I went through my aunt's papers.'
    'You're not the only one,' commented Harold. 'The name of Nathaniel Patten didn't seem to be known when I arrived here some years ago.'
    'Now, come!' protested Charles, 'we knew he was buried in the churchyard, but we had no idea he was such a great man.'
    'My Aunt Mary could have told you,' broke in Dulcie. 'She had a great many of his qualities, and she often quoted him to me as a good example. I'm afraid my father had no time for his memory.'

    She said this with an apologetic smile towards Charles and Harold, and they realized, with some relief, that she had become quite reconciled to the memory of a far from satisfactory father.
    Dimity's dinner was much enjoyed, although Harold was secretly so anxious to get hold of the contents of Robert's briefcase that he was scarcely aware of what