Read Online (5/20)Over the Gate by Miss Read - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Miss Read
Tags: Historical
Ads: Link
Polly her due,' said one fair-minded neighbour, 'she couldn't help it being a girl. Now, could she?'
'She could help her curtains and the flowers in the front and this 'ere new cradle she's got,' answered a less charitable listener. 'Bertha must be a proper angel to stay friends with a copycat like Polly.'
Time passed. It was a long hot summer and both babies flourished. Bertha's polyanthuses were succeeded by sweet Williams and then asters. So were Polly's. Bertha whitewashed two large stones and set them one each side of her doorstep as ornaments. So did Polly. Leslie bought Bertha a canary in a cage for her birthday. Mike, under pressure, did the same for Polly.
By now, relations were decidedly strained between die two women, although they maintained a surface civility. Billy, overhearing many a tart comment at home, often told a tale to Miss Clare who did her best to discourage him. She found this comparatively easy. It was not so easy to stem the flow of confidences winch Bertha began to pour into her unwilling ear when she came to meet Billy from school. It was at this stage that the name 'Mrs Next-Door' began to be used in a fruitless attempt to veil Polly's identity from the young listeners milling round them.
'That Mrs Next-Door,' Bertha would whisper, 'has done it again. Pink asters, same as mine. It do fairly make my blood boil at times!'
'Ignore it,' Miss Clare used to answer. 'It really doesn't matter, you know.' But secretly she had every sympathy with poor provoked Bertha. How long, she wondered, would her patience last?
The children added fuel to the fire by teasing Billy.
'Your Mrs Next-Door's got a hat with daisies on, just like your mum's!'
'I see Mrs Next-Door's got a canary now!'
'Mrs Next-Door's got a pink bedspread on the line this morning. Looked like the one vour mum had out last week!'
At last the storm broke. The immediate cause, as Fairacre had foretold, involved the two babies. Christmas was now at hand, and as usual, a teaparty for the whole village was to be held in the school. Anyone was welcome to this festivity, whether a parent or not, and it was usual for all the women, and one or two old retired men, to foregather on this village occasion. The school children, dressed in their best, looked upon themselves as hosts.
Bertha took considerable trouble with her own appearance and even more with Maria's. The child was dressed in a white silk frock, embroidered with forget-me-nots on the bodice, and over this creation wore a blue coat edged with swansdown and a bonnet to match. Bertha had seen this delicious set in a Caxley shop window and had been unable to resist it. This was the first time that Maria had put it on, and very beautiful she looked.
Bertha pushed her daughter proudly towards the school. The afternoon was cold and foggy, but Maria's face glowed from the becoming blue bonnet. She was much admired by the throng at the school.
About twenty minutes later Polly arrived, carrying Mildred. To the amusement of some, the resentment of others, and the speechless fury and astonishment of poor Bertha, the child had on exactly similar garments to Maria's. Bertha pointedly turned her back towards the newcomers and did her best to appear unconcerned, knowing that she was the centre of all eyes.
The party appeared to be as gay as it always was, but for Bertha it was sheer misery. She was one of the first to leave, pushing Maria in her finery, with Billy clinging to the pram, at a pace which taxed the strength of all three.
It was now dark. Maria was strapped into her high chair and Billy was told to look after her. Before Leslie came home, Bertha intended to confront her infuriating neighbour. She returned to the gate to await Polly's homecoming.
'Now she's going to have it!' Bertha told herself fiercely. 'I been too meek all along, sitting down under her impudence. I'll settle her!'
The sound of footsteps and the familiar squeak of Polly's pram wheels heralded her approach.
'She could help her curtains and the flowers in the front and this 'ere new cradle she's got,' answered a less charitable listener. 'Bertha must be a proper angel to stay friends with a copycat like Polly.'
Time passed. It was a long hot summer and both babies flourished. Bertha's polyanthuses were succeeded by sweet Williams and then asters. So were Polly's. Bertha whitewashed two large stones and set them one each side of her doorstep as ornaments. So did Polly. Leslie bought Bertha a canary in a cage for her birthday. Mike, under pressure, did the same for Polly.
By now, relations were decidedly strained between die two women, although they maintained a surface civility. Billy, overhearing many a tart comment at home, often told a tale to Miss Clare who did her best to discourage him. She found this comparatively easy. It was not so easy to stem the flow of confidences winch Bertha began to pour into her unwilling ear when she came to meet Billy from school. It was at this stage that the name 'Mrs Next-Door' began to be used in a fruitless attempt to veil Polly's identity from the young listeners milling round them.
'That Mrs Next-Door,' Bertha would whisper, 'has done it again. Pink asters, same as mine. It do fairly make my blood boil at times!'
'Ignore it,' Miss Clare used to answer. 'It really doesn't matter, you know.' But secretly she had every sympathy with poor provoked Bertha. How long, she wondered, would her patience last?
The children added fuel to the fire by teasing Billy.
'Your Mrs Next-Door's got a hat with daisies on, just like your mum's!'
'I see Mrs Next-Door's got a canary now!'
'Mrs Next-Door's got a pink bedspread on the line this morning. Looked like the one vour mum had out last week!'
At last the storm broke. The immediate cause, as Fairacre had foretold, involved the two babies. Christmas was now at hand, and as usual, a teaparty for the whole village was to be held in the school. Anyone was welcome to this festivity, whether a parent or not, and it was usual for all the women, and one or two old retired men, to foregather on this village occasion. The school children, dressed in their best, looked upon themselves as hosts.
Bertha took considerable trouble with her own appearance and even more with Maria's. The child was dressed in a white silk frock, embroidered with forget-me-nots on the bodice, and over this creation wore a blue coat edged with swansdown and a bonnet to match. Bertha had seen this delicious set in a Caxley shop window and had been unable to resist it. This was the first time that Maria had put it on, and very beautiful she looked.
Bertha pushed her daughter proudly towards the school. The afternoon was cold and foggy, but Maria's face glowed from the becoming blue bonnet. She was much admired by the throng at the school.
About twenty minutes later Polly arrived, carrying Mildred. To the amusement of some, the resentment of others, and the speechless fury and astonishment of poor Bertha, the child had on exactly similar garments to Maria's. Bertha pointedly turned her back towards the newcomers and did her best to appear unconcerned, knowing that she was the centre of all eyes.
The party appeared to be as gay as it always was, but for Bertha it was sheer misery. She was one of the first to leave, pushing Maria in her finery, with Billy clinging to the pram, at a pace which taxed the strength of all three.
It was now dark. Maria was strapped into her high chair and Billy was told to look after her. Before Leslie came home, Bertha intended to confront her infuriating neighbour. She returned to the gate to await Polly's homecoming.
'Now she's going to have it!' Bertha told herself fiercely. 'I been too meek all along, sitting down under her impudence. I'll settle her!'
The sound of footsteps and the familiar squeak of Polly's pram wheels heralded her approach.
Similar Books
