Read Online My Sister Celia by Mary Burchell - Free Book Online

had the impression that she had not altogether shared it—even passingly.
    “It was Celia ’ s idea too,” Mr. Vanner observed, with a faint smile. And Freda experienced a fresh stab of pain, as she imagined the eagerness with which Celia had probably planned—all to no purpose.
    “I ’ d better go,” she said, getting wearily to her feet. “I ’ m sorry to have given you so much trouble for—for nothing.”
    “You have no need to apologize,” Mr. Vanner told her. “Any mistake which was made was entirely understandable. Both my wife and I”—he gave a somewhat compelling look at his wife— “ realize that.”
    “Yes, yes, of course,” agreed Mrs. Vanner, almost genially, now that the danger, as she saw it, had completely passed. But she could not conceal the fact that she was glad Freda was going. Since the unpleasant interview was nearly over, she even held out her hand in farewell.
    But, as she did so, something quite unexpected happened. The door opened abruptly, and Celia walked into the room.
    “Celia!” exclaimed all three, in varying degrees of dismay and admonition, and Mrs. Vanner added quickly,
    “I thought you had gone out for the evening.”
    “I couldn ’ t, Mother. You must see that! I couldn ’ t possibly stay out of all the fun,” pleaded Celia, with a winning smile which showed how used she was to having her own way, even with her adopted mother. “Has everything been settled?” There was an awkward silence. Then it was Freda who said, quietly and with courage,
    “Yes, my dear. Everything has been settled. I ’ m afraid we all made a mistake somewhere. There—there isn ’ t any connection between us. Your—your name was not the same as mine.”
    “But it must be!” Celia suddenly turned very pale, and Freda loved her for it and longed to protect her from the pain which caused it.
    “It simply isn ’ t,” Mrs. Vanner stated firmly. “And you ’ d have done much better to stay out of this, Celia. This was just the sort of scene we wanted to avoid.”
    “But Freda ’ s my sister! I know she is.”
    “You can ’ t know it, my dear, if she isn ’ t,” her father said, in a troubled tone. “This is all dreadfully upsetting. But the name by which you were registered at the casualty centre was nothing like Mersham.”
    “What was it then?” Celia demanded.
    But once more Mrs. Vanner said, “There isn ’ t any point in your knowing that now. Your name is Vanner.”
    “That ’ s true, darling, you know.” Freda spoke tenderly, even though they were now supposed to mean nothing to each other. “If you ’ re name isn ’ t Mersham, that ’ s all that matters in this particular discussion.”
    “But there must be something—something —”
    Celia ran her hands distractedly through her hair. “Think, Freda, think! Can ’ t you remember anything about the early days that would help?”
    Both her adopted parents made futile little gestures, as though to stop this painful scene before anyone could be more deeply hurt. And Freda said helplessly,
    “I can ’ t my dear. How can I? I was five—perhaps four—when Mother and C-Celia went away and left me in Crowmain with Mrs. Cant.”
    “Mrs. Cant,” repeated Celia, in a wondering sort of tone, and suddenly both the Vanners were quite still. “Mrs.—Cant. That was the name! I remember now. There was a little boy who used to tease me and say, ‘ I can—but Celia Cant. ’ ”

 
    CHAPTER FOUR
    As Celia’s high, excited voice died away, it seemed to Freda as though the very room waited for the next utterance.
    Then it was Mr. Vanner who said quietly, “You ’ ve proved your own c ase, my child. The name under which you were registered for adoption was Celia Cant.”
    “Then it ’ s true?” Celia ’ s lovely face crumpled suddenly, as though she were a child about to cry. But she recovered herself and repeated shakily, “It ’ s true! That was the name I must have given when they found me wandering. It