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Authors: Helen Wells
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looked uncomfortable. Perhaps, Cherry thought, Ryder knew of Martha Logan’s reputation as a writer, and felt self-conscious at fi nding himself in the company of the well-known historical novelist. Ryder blinked rapidly, said, “How d’you do? So happy to meet you. Now I must trot along and—er—telephone.”
“Here come our refreshments—” Peter put a detain-ing hand on the other young man’s arm. But Ryder clambered to his feet, mumbling, “Tennis tomorrow, at two on the tick? And then off for more Shakespeare?”
“It’s a date,” Peter agreed. “Before you go, you’ve got to recite that toast you said for us yesterday. Please.” Rodney Ryder lifted his glass and reeled off, as fast as he could:
“Here’s to you as good as you are And here’s to me as bad as I am And as bad as I am, and as good as you are, I’m as good as you are as bad as I am.”
CHERRY MEETS PETER AGAIN
65
He took one gulp of his orange squash, said goodbye, and shot out of the tearoom.
“What an extraordinary young man!” Martha said, and the three of them exploded with pent-up laughter.
“Why did he run away from us like that?” Cherry wanted to know. Peter shrugged.
Martha Logan asked, “Is he genuinely interested in Shakespeare?”
“Well, Ryder tags along with us to exhibits and asks questions,” Peter said. He explained that when he and his students arrived in Stratford on Friday afternoon, Rodney Ryder was wandering around looking for a tennis partner. “He saw me carrying a racket, and that was the beginning of our constant companionship. Ryder certainly is giving me a rush,” Peter said, a little ruefully. “I told him I’m here to teach, and to learn, too—
that my students and I would be busy, really busy. I’m fortunate enough to have a letter through a university contact to a Shakespeare curator who’s here in charge of a special exhibit. But Rodney Ryder is not a man you can discourage easily.” Peter smiled and shook his head. “I guess he really is interested. He seems fairly well educated, nice manners, probably quite bright if and when he’s ever serious. Anyway, Ryder plays a good game of tennis, and my students think he’s entertaining company.”
Martha Logan asked, “What does your learned curator make of your Rodney Ryder?”
“They haven’t met yet, and frankly I can’t visual-ize such a meeting,” Peter said. “By the way, you two 66 CHERRY
AMES,
COMPANION
NURSE
mustn’t miss seeing the paintings of characters from the Shakespearean plays.”
“Oh, yes, the London newspapers have been full of news of this exhibit for weeks,” Martha said. “Well, we’ll be in Stratford for several days, so there’s no hurry.”
“Tomorrow is the last day to see it,” Peter said. “After tomorrow, the paintings will be shipped to Edinburgh to go on public exhibit there.” They were all going on to Edinburgh, but agreed it would be more appropriate to see the Shakespearean paintings here. Peter invited Martha and Cherry to come along the next afternoon, with his students “and probably with Rodney Ryder,” to see the paintings and meet the curator.
They compared notes for a while on what they had seen and done in London. Mention of the art museums reminded Peter of Archibald Hazard. “He’s awfully knowledgeable about paintings, isn’t he?” Martha Logan answered, “I rather thought so, too, on the plane. But do you know, I’ve been thinking, and I’ve changed my mind about him. I wonder if he isn’t bluffi ng some of his knowledge. Oh, Mr. Hazard knows the main facts, and he knows the fi nancial value of paintings, but that’s about all.” Cherry was interested to hear Martha confi rm her own impression—that Mr. Hazard might be rather a phony. Not that it mattered, they’d probably never see Mr. Hazard again.
Their glasses of orange squash were emptied, and Cherry thought Martha Logan looked tired. As they
CHERRY MEETS PETER AGAIN
67
rose to go to
“Here come our refreshments—” Peter put a detain-ing hand on the other young man’s arm. But Ryder clambered to his feet, mumbling, “Tennis tomorrow, at two on the tick? And then off for more Shakespeare?”
“It’s a date,” Peter agreed. “Before you go, you’ve got to recite that toast you said for us yesterday. Please.” Rodney Ryder lifted his glass and reeled off, as fast as he could:
“Here’s to you as good as you are And here’s to me as bad as I am And as bad as I am, and as good as you are, I’m as good as you are as bad as I am.”
CHERRY MEETS PETER AGAIN
65
He took one gulp of his orange squash, said goodbye, and shot out of the tearoom.
“What an extraordinary young man!” Martha said, and the three of them exploded with pent-up laughter.
“Why did he run away from us like that?” Cherry wanted to know. Peter shrugged.
Martha Logan asked, “Is he genuinely interested in Shakespeare?”
“Well, Ryder tags along with us to exhibits and asks questions,” Peter said. He explained that when he and his students arrived in Stratford on Friday afternoon, Rodney Ryder was wandering around looking for a tennis partner. “He saw me carrying a racket, and that was the beginning of our constant companionship. Ryder certainly is giving me a rush,” Peter said, a little ruefully. “I told him I’m here to teach, and to learn, too—
that my students and I would be busy, really busy. I’m fortunate enough to have a letter through a university contact to a Shakespeare curator who’s here in charge of a special exhibit. But Rodney Ryder is not a man you can discourage easily.” Peter smiled and shook his head. “I guess he really is interested. He seems fairly well educated, nice manners, probably quite bright if and when he’s ever serious. Anyway, Ryder plays a good game of tennis, and my students think he’s entertaining company.”
Martha Logan asked, “What does your learned curator make of your Rodney Ryder?”
“They haven’t met yet, and frankly I can’t visual-ize such a meeting,” Peter said. “By the way, you two 66 CHERRY
AMES,
COMPANION
NURSE
mustn’t miss seeing the paintings of characters from the Shakespearean plays.”
“Oh, yes, the London newspapers have been full of news of this exhibit for weeks,” Martha said. “Well, we’ll be in Stratford for several days, so there’s no hurry.”
“Tomorrow is the last day to see it,” Peter said. “After tomorrow, the paintings will be shipped to Edinburgh to go on public exhibit there.” They were all going on to Edinburgh, but agreed it would be more appropriate to see the Shakespearean paintings here. Peter invited Martha and Cherry to come along the next afternoon, with his students “and probably with Rodney Ryder,” to see the paintings and meet the curator.
They compared notes for a while on what they had seen and done in London. Mention of the art museums reminded Peter of Archibald Hazard. “He’s awfully knowledgeable about paintings, isn’t he?” Martha Logan answered, “I rather thought so, too, on the plane. But do you know, I’ve been thinking, and I’ve changed my mind about him. I wonder if he isn’t bluffi ng some of his knowledge. Oh, Mr. Hazard knows the main facts, and he knows the fi nancial value of paintings, but that’s about all.” Cherry was interested to hear Martha confi rm her own impression—that Mr. Hazard might be rather a phony. Not that it mattered, they’d probably never see Mr. Hazard again.
Their glasses of orange squash were emptied, and Cherry thought Martha Logan looked tired. As they
CHERRY MEETS PETER AGAIN
67
rose to go to
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