Read Online The Master of the Priory by Annie Haynes - Free Book Online Page A

find it too hot,” she hesitated. Then her voice steadied itself. “I first took to it because I have very bad neuralgia in my temples, and when one has accustomed oneself to anything of this kind it is very difficult to leave it off.”
    â€œSo I should imagine,” said Sybil disagreeably.
    They walked on a few steps, then Elizabeth turned to Sir Oswald.
    â€œI wonder whether I might leave Maisie with you for a few minutes, Sir Oswald? I have a message from Dr. Williams for Lady Davenant and I should like to deliver it as soon as possible.”
    â€œBy all means,” Sir Oswald assented courteously. “We can’t wander very far, Miss Martin. You will find us somewhere about here when you come back.”
    â€œThank you very much,” the governess responded. She walked on briskly, her tall, slight figure looking brisk and alert as it was outlined against the grey old trunks of the oaks in the drive.
    â€œMiss Martin did not like what you said about her veil,” Maisie said shrewdly. “Did you want to, make her cross, Sybil?”
    It was Sybil’s turn to flush now. “No, of course I didn’t,” she said irritably. “But I can’t think of why she wears the thing. It’s just as though she were afraid of her face being seen.”
    â€œReally, Sybil—” Sir Oswald was beginning, a note of anger in his voice that certainly Sybil had never heard before.
    He was interrupted. There was a sound of a car in the drive behind them. Maisie sprang back with a cry of welcome.
    â€œOh, Barbara! Barbara dear! Daddy, it is Barbara, come to see us at last.”
    Meanwhile Elizabeth, walking quickly, had gained the house. She delivered her message to Lady Davenant, and then went to her own room. Never the most Job-like of individuals, Sybil Lorrimer’s remarks, coming after a morning of small irritations, had had the effect of raising her temper to boiling point. Her cheeks were hot, her eyes were flashing; it was the old Elizabeth who looked back at her out of the glass. She waited a minute or two to control herself, then, as she readjusted her hat she said half-aloud, “Oh, why can’t she let me alone? If she knew how little I want to interfere with her plans—that I only want to be left in peace.”
    As she went downstairs she heard voices and recognized that there were visitors with Sir Oswald. Of course Maisie would be there too. She was sure of that, and she hesitated, frowning a little. Of all things she hated meeting strangers, yet Sir Oswald might expect her to look after the child.
    As she stood there a voice said quickly, “No, don’t you bother, Davenant, old man. I will find it myself. First floor, second room on left, you said, didn’t you?”
    Commonplace words enough, yet the very sound of them was enough to drive the blood from Elizabeth’s cheeks, to make her catch at the balustrade for support as though her very limbs were paralysed. She cast one horrified glance around, then she turned quickly, her one thought for flight, she must at all hazards get away and hide herself from the gaze of the man below.
    Her very haste brought about the catastrophe she was most anxious to avoid. The long end of her scarf caught in the carved edge of the balustrade. She tugged at it; the man, leaping upstairs two at a time behind her, paused, seeing she was in difficulties, and moved to help her. As he bent forward she gave one desperate wrench, there was a tearing sound, and she was free.
    â€œOh, I wish you had let me help you,” the man said regretfully. “I am sure I would have done it without that—”
    He stopped suddenly, the words on his lips dying away in horrified amazement.
    For as Elizabeth bent forward her glasses had slipped down. He had looked right into her eyes.
    â€œYou!” he breathed, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “You! What are you doing here?”
    The governess