An Angel Runs Away Read Free Page A

– kind, sir, and – give me a – lift?”
    The Marquis looked down, seeing a small flowerlike face turned up to his, dominated by two very large grey eyes that were surrounded by wet lashes which were accounted for by the tearstains on her cheeks.
    It was a very pathetic little face.
    He could see that, with the speed at which she had been hurrying along the road, her bonnet had been pushed onto the back of her head and her hair, which was curly, was rioting untidily over her forehead.
    As he looked, wondering what he should reply, to his astonishment, the girl, who was so young she seemed little more than a child, exclaimed,
    “Oh – it is – you !”
    “Do you know me?” the Marquis enquired.
    “Of course, but I thought you would be with Sarah at The Hall.”
    The Marquis looked at her in astonishment. Then before he could speak the girl went on,
    “Please – please – if you are going back to London – take me with you – if only a – little way.”
    The Marquis realised now that she was not a village girl as he had first thought, but spoke with an educated voice and her reference to ‘Sarah’ told him that she must obviously have something to do with the Chessington-Crewe household.
    “Surely,” he said, “you are not going to London alone?”
    “I have to! I cannot – stand it any longer and, if you will not take me – I shall have to – wait and find somebody else – who will!”
    There was a desperation in the young voice that made the Marquis say,
    “I imagine that you are running away and I will give you a lift on condition that you explain to me what you are doing and where you are going.”
    “Thank you – thank you!”
    Her eyes seemed suddenly to hold the sunshine in them. She ran around the back of the phaeton and without waiting for the groom who was getting down to help her, climbed up onto the seat beside the Marquis.
    “You are very kind,” she said, “but I never expected it to be – you – when I heard your horses coming down the road.”
    The Marquis drove on slowly.
    “I think you should start at the beginning,” he said, “and tell me who you are.”
    “My name is Ula Forde.”
    “And you come from Chessington Hall?”
    “Yes, I am living there or – I w as!”
    There was a little break in the words and then she said quickly,
    “Don’t try to – make me go – back! I have made up my mind, and whatever – happens to me – it cannot be – worse than what has been happening already.”
    “Suppose you tell me what it is,” the Marquis suggested. “You must be aware that if I behave correctly I should take you back.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you are much too young to go to London alone, unless there is somebody there who is waiting to look after you.”
    “I will find – somebody.”
    The Marquis thought dryly that this was very unlikely, but aloud he said,
    “What has upset you so much at Chessington Hall that you have been forced to run away?”
    “I-I cannot stand being – beaten by Uncle Lionel and slapped by Sarah and told that – everything I do is wrong – simply because they – hated my father.”
    The Marquis turned his head and looked at her in complete astonishment.
    “Are you telling me that the Earl of Chessington-Crewe is your uncle?”
    She nodded her head.
    “Yes.”
    “And that he beats you?”
    “He beats me because – Sarah makes him – and also because he will never forgive Mama for running away with my father – but they were so happy – so very very happy – and so was I until – I came to my uncle’s house – where it is exactly like being – in Hell!”
    The Marquis thought Ula must be deranged. Then he realised that she was not speaking in a hysterical manner, but in a sincere and collected tone of voice that made it difficult for him not to believe what she was saying.
    “What was wrong with your father,” he asked after a moment’s silence, “that made the Earl dislike him?”
    “My mother – who was his