Read Online Still William by Richmal Crompton - Free Book Online Page A

that – getting people engaged to people they wanted to be engaged to. Jolly hard work too. Now there remained his
mother and Ethel. He must go home and try to find some way of helping them . . .
    IV
    When he reached home Ethel was showing out Mrs Helm, a tall, stern-looking lady whom William knew by sight.
    ‘I’m so frightfully disappointed not to be able to come,’ Ethel was saying regretfully, ‘but I’m afraid I must go to the Morrisons. I promised over a
week ago. Thank you so much for asking me. Good morning.’
    William followed her into the dining-room where his mother was.
    ‘What did she want, dear?’ said Mrs Brown. ‘Go and wash your hands, William.’
    ‘She wanted me to go in this evening but I told her I couldn’t because I was going to the Morrisons. Thank Heaven I had an excuse!’
    William unfortunately missed the last sentence as, still inspired by high ideals of virtue, he had gone at once upstairs to wash his hands. While he splashed about at the handbasin an idea
suddenly occurred to him. That was how he’d help Ethel. He’d give her a happy evening. She should spend it with the Helms and not with the Morrisons. She’d sounded so sorry
that she had to go to the Morrisons and couldn’t go to the Helms. He’d fix it all up for her this afternoon. He’d help her like he’d helped Robert.

    ‘GOOD HEAVENS!’ SAID MISS DEXTER. ‘DOES HE KNOW YOU’VE COME TO ASK ME?’

    ‘ROBERT’S DEEP IN LOVE WITH YOU,’ SAID WILLIAM. ‘HE’S WRITIN’ PO’TRY AN’ NOT SLEEPIN’ AN’ NOT EATIN’ AND
CARVIN’ YOUR INITIALS ALL OVER THE HOUSE.’
    He had hoped to be able to give Robert Miss Dexter’s note at lunch, but it turned out that Robert was lunching at the golf club with a friend.
    Directly after lunch William set off to Mrs Morrison’s house. He was shown into the drawing-room. Mrs Morrison, large and fat and comfortable-looking, entered. She looked rather bewildered
as she met William’s stern frowning gaze.
    ‘I’ve come from Ethel,’ said William aggressively. ‘She’s sorry she can’t come tonight.’
    Mrs Morrison’s cheerful countenance fell.
    ‘The girls will be disappointed,’ she said, ‘they saw her this morning and she said she was looking forward to it.’
    Some explanation seemed necessary. William was never one to stick at half measures.
    ‘She’s been took ill since then,’ he said.
    ‘Oh dear ,’ said Mrs Morrison with concern, ‘nothing serious, I hope?’
    William considered. If it wasn’t serious she might expect Ethel to recover by the evening. She’d better have something serious.
    ‘I’m ’fraid it is,’ he said gloomily.
    ‘Dear, dear !’ said Mrs Morrison. ‘Tch! Tch! What is it?’
    William thought over all the complaints he knew. None of them seemed quite serious enough. She might as well have something really serious while he was about it. Then he suddenly
remembered hearing the gardener talking to the housemaid the day before. He’d been talking about his brother who’d got – what was it? Epi – epi—
    ‘Epilepsy!’ said William suddenly.
    ‘What?’ screamed Mrs Morrison.
    William, having committed himself to epilepsy meant to stick to it.
    ‘Epilepsy, the doctor says,’ he said firmly.
    ‘Good heavens!’ said Mrs Morrison. ‘When did you find out? Will he be able to cure it? Is the poor girl in bed? How does it affect her? What a dreadful thing!’
    William was flattered at the impression he seemed to have made. He wondered whether it were possible to increase it.
    ‘The doctor thinks she’s got a bit of consumption too,’ he said casually, ‘but he’s not quite sure.’
    Mrs Morrison screamed again. ‘ Heavens! And she always looked so healthy . The girls will be so distressed . William, do tell me – when did your mother realise
there was something wrong?’
    William foresaw that the conversation was becoming complicated. He did not wish to display his ignorance of the symptoms of epilepsy and