Read Online The Feast by Margaret Kennedy - Free Book Online Page A

reading were seldom, in her experience, left lying about and Mr. Paley’s was no exception to this general rule.
    Nancibel came in. Mrs. Siddal had ultimately capitulated to Miss Ellis’s argument that it takes two to make a bed, and had agreed that Nancibel should help with this part of the upstairs work before starting on the washing-up . But she was adamant about the slops.
    ‘You wouldn’t think,’ said Miss Ellis, ‘that these two had had a child, would you?’
    ‘I don’t know why not!’ said Nancibel, tugging at the heavy double mattress.
    ‘Well, they did. But it died.’
    ‘How do you know?’
    ‘Oh … I know a good bit about them.’
    Nancibel left off wrestling with the mattress and stood at the side of the bed looking at Miss Ellis. It was the same in all the rooms. She did the work while the housekeeper talked. But she had had enough of it.
    ‘It was quite a tragedy,’ continued Miss Ellis. ‘Her people were wealthy and he was quite poor, and they didn’t want her to marry him. So she made a runaway match. But he couldn’t get over it that they didn’t think him good enough. Couldn’t forgive the scornful things they’d said. He made her cut herself off completely ; wouldn’t let her write or anything.
    Well, they had an awful time. Poor as rats. And she wasn’t used to that, of course. Go on, can’t you? What are you waiting for?’
    ‘I’m ready when you are, Miss Ellis.’
    Miss Ellis laid reluctant hold on her side of the mattress and gave it a mild tug, complaining:
    ‘She’s no right to have these heavy things. If I get ruptured I shall sue her for compensation. Let’s leave it, shall we? It’s Sunday. Well … they had this little girl and she got ill. T.B. And they hadn’t the cash for a sanatorium, and he wouldn’t let her write to her people. And she said if the child died she’d never forgive him. And the child did die and she never has.’
    ‘In her shoes,’ said Nancibel, picking up a sheet, ‘I’d have written all the same. Yes, I would. And got the money and carted the kid off to a sanatorium, when his back was turned, and refused to tell him where it was. Oh, I’d have been deedy, in her shoes.’
    ‘She isn’t the sort that sticks up for themselves. Not that he doesn’t blame himself. He does. He knows it’s his fault that child isn’t alive to-day. And he’s got plenty of money now too. He began to get on after that, and got an Art Gallery or something to build.’
    ‘Poor things,’ said Nancibel. ‘No wonder they look so sad.’
    Voices in the garden below drew Miss Ellis to the window. Nancibel, determined to make no more beds alone, stood still with the sheet in her hand.
    ‘Do for goodness’ sake come and look,’ exclaimed Miss Ellis. ‘What on earth will those children be up to next?’
    Nancibel joined her in time to see the little Coves undergoing the first of seven tests imposed by the rules of the Noble Covenant of Spartans. They were walking blindfold along a stone parapet at the end of the terrace, where the rocks fell steeply away to the beach. The Giffords ran along the path beside them, shouting exhortations :
    ‘Go on! Go on! You’re nearly half way! We’ll tell you when you’re there. Don’t stop. You’re disqualified if you stop.’
    In single file they staggered and wavered, their arms stretched out, their bare feet clinging to the rough stone. But they never stopped until they reached the end of the parapet and Hebe pulled them down, one after another, to safety.
    ‘It’s that Hebe! She put them up to it,’ cried Miss Ellis. ‘If ever a child needed her bottom smacking, she’s one. But come along; come along, Nancibel! Mrs Siddal doesn’t pay you to stand gaping out of the window. No wonder the beds take such a long time!’
3. Good People Come and Pray
    Pendizack Church Town stands in the bare upland fields on the top of the cliff. It consists of seven cottages, a post office, and a public house, crouching in a