Read Online Dorothy Eden by Never Call It Loving - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Never Call It Loving
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would come.
The conversation at the dinner party was about the new word that had been coined, “boycott”. Mr. Chamberlain thought it a cheap trick, something to get popular publicity. But Willie, who saw the stature Parnell was acquiring, was torn between his powerful English friends, and his necessary allegiance to the leader of his party. Who should he cultivate most? Could he successfully take the middle of the road?
Katharine could read what lay behind his handsome face. Long familiarity had taught her the working of his mind. He despised his countrymen as a whole, so was angry that one of them should prove so supremely effective. He was jealous, too. And yet the honesty he had compelled him to admire Parnell, perhaps more than he did Chamberlain. He would like to be friends with them both.
“My wife has a great admiration for Mr. Parnell,” he observed.
Mr. Chamberlain let his appraising glance rest on Katharine.
“I didn’t know he was a ladies’ man.”
Willie laughed, his blue eyes alight with amusement.
“Oh, it wouldn’t be for that that Kate admired him. Would it, Kate? She likes his courage, and his gifts as an orator.”
“Well, don’t let the man become a legend, Mrs. O’Shea,” Mr. Chamberlain said, a trifle irritably. “Then we’ll never get down to real business.”
“So you are going to do business with him?” Katharine enquired calmly.
“It looks as if we have no alternative. Isn’t that so, Captain O’Shea? I’d be glad to know, if it could be found out in advance, what sort of a reception Mr. Parnell proposes to give the new Land Act. I think it’s as good an act as could be devised, but he doesn’t trust us an inch. He’s got an unshakeable belief that every law we make is biased in our favour.”
“Or perhaps that you won’t keep your word,” Katharine said.
Willie darted her an angry look, but Mr. Chamberlain laughed in his dry way and said: “Oh, I know Mr. Parnell bears no love for us. He’s convinced no good will ever come out of England. So I’m afraid we’ve reached an impasse with him. Unless you can sway him to your more generous view of us, O’Shea.”
When Katharine reached home that night she found all the lights on and Miss Glennister waiting for her in a state of extreme distress.
“Oh, Mrs. O’Shea, something terrible has happened. Lucy—”
The silly woman began to cry and Katharine had to take her and almost shake the words out of her.
“What? Is she dead? Where is she?”
“Not dead, Mrs. O’Shea. But she can’t speak. She tries, and it’s awful.”
Katharine was halfway up the stairs.
“Has the doctor been?”
“Yes. He says she’s had a stroke. She won’t last long, he thinks.” Miss Glennister was in fresh tears. “I’ve told the children she’s poorly. Poor lambs, they’d be so frightened if they knew the truth.”
“They must learn not to be frightened,” Katharine said, and didn’t wait for Miss Glennister’s tearful rejoinder, for she was already halfway to Lucy’s room.
She scarcely recognised the poor distorted face. The doctor had sent a nurse who said softly to Katharine, “Speak to her, Mrs. O’Shea. I don’t think she sees anything, but she can hear. She’s been waiting for you.”
Katharine took Lucy’s hand, and felt the gnarled fingers moving feeling for her rings to identify her.
“It is me, Lucy. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll stay beside you.”
Lucy—the faithful figure that had been beside her all her life. There had never been a time without her. She had been growing old, one realised, but not this old. She had never complained, never said she was getting tired or feeling ill until she had had that nasty chill a little while ago. Katharine sat beside her, fighting tears. Lucy who had shepherded her through childhood, been like a rock beside her when Papa had died, rejoiced in her wedding, and the birth of her babies, loyally poured out her savings for the dear Captain when
The conversation at the dinner party was about the new word that had been coined, “boycott”. Mr. Chamberlain thought it a cheap trick, something to get popular publicity. But Willie, who saw the stature Parnell was acquiring, was torn between his powerful English friends, and his necessary allegiance to the leader of his party. Who should he cultivate most? Could he successfully take the middle of the road?
Katharine could read what lay behind his handsome face. Long familiarity had taught her the working of his mind. He despised his countrymen as a whole, so was angry that one of them should prove so supremely effective. He was jealous, too. And yet the honesty he had compelled him to admire Parnell, perhaps more than he did Chamberlain. He would like to be friends with them both.
“My wife has a great admiration for Mr. Parnell,” he observed.
Mr. Chamberlain let his appraising glance rest on Katharine.
“I didn’t know he was a ladies’ man.”
Willie laughed, his blue eyes alight with amusement.
“Oh, it wouldn’t be for that that Kate admired him. Would it, Kate? She likes his courage, and his gifts as an orator.”
“Well, don’t let the man become a legend, Mrs. O’Shea,” Mr. Chamberlain said, a trifle irritably. “Then we’ll never get down to real business.”
“So you are going to do business with him?” Katharine enquired calmly.
“It looks as if we have no alternative. Isn’t that so, Captain O’Shea? I’d be glad to know, if it could be found out in advance, what sort of a reception Mr. Parnell proposes to give the new Land Act. I think it’s as good an act as could be devised, but he doesn’t trust us an inch. He’s got an unshakeable belief that every law we make is biased in our favour.”
“Or perhaps that you won’t keep your word,” Katharine said.
Willie darted her an angry look, but Mr. Chamberlain laughed in his dry way and said: “Oh, I know Mr. Parnell bears no love for us. He’s convinced no good will ever come out of England. So I’m afraid we’ve reached an impasse with him. Unless you can sway him to your more generous view of us, O’Shea.”
When Katharine reached home that night she found all the lights on and Miss Glennister waiting for her in a state of extreme distress.
“Oh, Mrs. O’Shea, something terrible has happened. Lucy—”
The silly woman began to cry and Katharine had to take her and almost shake the words out of her.
“What? Is she dead? Where is she?”
“Not dead, Mrs. O’Shea. But she can’t speak. She tries, and it’s awful.”
Katharine was halfway up the stairs.
“Has the doctor been?”
“Yes. He says she’s had a stroke. She won’t last long, he thinks.” Miss Glennister was in fresh tears. “I’ve told the children she’s poorly. Poor lambs, they’d be so frightened if they knew the truth.”
“They must learn not to be frightened,” Katharine said, and didn’t wait for Miss Glennister’s tearful rejoinder, for she was already halfway to Lucy’s room.
She scarcely recognised the poor distorted face. The doctor had sent a nurse who said softly to Katharine, “Speak to her, Mrs. O’Shea. I don’t think she sees anything, but she can hear. She’s been waiting for you.”
Katharine took Lucy’s hand, and felt the gnarled fingers moving feeling for her rings to identify her.
“It is me, Lucy. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll stay beside you.”
Lucy—the faithful figure that had been beside her all her life. There had never been a time without her. She had been growing old, one realised, but not this old. She had never complained, never said she was getting tired or feeling ill until she had had that nasty chill a little while ago. Katharine sat beside her, fighting tears. Lucy who had shepherded her through childhood, been like a rock beside her when Papa had died, rejoiced in her wedding, and the birth of her babies, loyally poured out her savings for the dear Captain when
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