Read Online Miss Buncle Married by D. E. Stevenson - Free Book Online Page B

off.”
    To do Barbara justice she had no idea that Arthur was not delighted with the house. She was so enchanted with it herself that it never crossed her mind that there could be any two opinions about it. And Arthur was afraid to say too much; he had not forgotten the strange way that Barbara had behaved when he suggested staying on at Sunnydene. It had given him a shock, a very severe shock. At the back of his mind was the unexpressed, almost unconscious fear, that if he did not approve of this house (which had obviously bewitched Barbara) she would buy it herself, out of the proceeds of her books, and leave him behind at Sunnydene. This being so, his protests were extremely feeble—so feeble that Barbara never noticed them.
    She dragged him round the place, pointing out its amenities with eager pride, and then she hauled him off to the lawyer’s office to buy it. Mr. Abbott followed miserably. He saw that his wife intended to have the house at all costs. He only hoped that she would not allow this fact to become apparent in the transactions. But he need not have been anxious on this score, for Barbara was no fool. She intended to acquire The Archway House, but there was no sense in paying a fancy price for it. Barbara wanted to spend “a lot of money” on the house, and if they got it cheap, there would be all the more to spend on doing it up.
    Mr. Tupper was evidently recovered from his indisposition; it was he, and not the junior partner, who received them and conducted the business. Barbara veiled her eagerness from Mr. Tupper with admirable self-control; she pointed out that they would have to spend a lot of money on repairs before The Archway House could be made habitable. This was so obvious that Mr. Tupper was forced to agree.
    It was Arthur, of course, who did most of the talking. Barbara sat in the shabby leather chair and threw in a few words now and then. She listened to all that was said with intense interest. It really was amazing, she thought, you bought a house as easily as you bought a hat—or very nearly. It was most extraordinary! She was sorry not to see Mr. Tyler again; she had liked the little man. His pompous manner had intrigued her—especially as she had seen through it, and below it, to the very human and rather pathetic core of the little man himself. Mr. Tupper was not nearly so nice—he was dry and businesslike—a lawyer and nothing more. There was no royal welcome forthcoming on this occasion, and it was quite easy to refuse the glass of sherry which he offered her—Mr. Tyler would not have taken her refusal so lightly, so casually as this. Of course Mr. Tyler thought I was somebody else, Barbara reflected (as she sat by the window and watched Arthur sip his sherry with obvious enjoyment) and I suppose that was why he was so nice to me. He thought I was that Matilda woman—Lady Something-or-other Cobbe—already the memory of the incident was fading from her mind, but it was to return later.
    â€œThere are rats,” she said, breaking into the discussion with dramatic suddenness. “We can’t pay all that for a house with rats in it, you know.”
    â€œRats—oh, I think not,” deprecated Mr. Tupper with an indulgent smile, “I think not. Ladies are sometimes—”
    â€œBut there are, really ,” asserted Barbara confidently. “Mr. Tyler told me himself, the first day I was here.”
    The lawyer’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He began to say something and then changed his mind about it. “Mr. Tyler must have been mad—mistaken, I mean,” he amended, frowning. But the price came down a little all the same. It was quite possible that there were rats in The Archway House, quite possible, and his instructions were to sell the place for what he could get. It had been empty for years and the owner needed the money badly.
    The price came down gradually to a figure that even Arthur considered a