Call of the Heart Read Free Page B

enough they’ll get out of the likes of ye!” the cook said with a shriek of laughter. “Get on with ye, an’ when ye gets back I’ll have some supper waitin’ for ye.”
    “Ye’d better!” he replied, “or Oi’ll drag ye out o’bed t’cook it for me!”
    As Lalitha went up the stairs from the basement carrying Sophie’s tray she wondered what her mother would have said if she’d heard the servants talking in such a manner in her presence.
    Even to think of her mother brought tears to her eyes and resolutely she told herself to concentrate on what she was doing.
    She was feeling very tired. There had been such a lot to do all day.
    Besides cleaning most of the house and making the beds, there had been innumerable commands from Sophie to fetch this and to do that.
    Her legs ached and she longed just for a moment to be able to sit down and rest.
    This was a privilege seldom accorded to her until after everyone had retired for the night.
    She opened the door of Sophie’s bed-room and carried in the tray.
    “You have been a long time!” Sophie said disagreeably.
    “I am sorry,” Lalitha replied, “but there was nothing ready and the stew which is being prepared does not smell very appetising.”
    “What have you brought me?” Sophie asked.
    “I made you an omelette,” Lalitha replied. “There was nothing else.”
    “I cannot think why you cannot order enough food so that there is some there when we want it,” Sophie said. “You really are hopelessly incompetent!”
    “The butcher we have been patronising will leave nothing more until we have paid his bill,” Lalitha said apologetically, “and when the fish-man called this morning your mother was out and he would not even give us credit on a piece of cod.” “You always have a lot of glib excuses,” Sophie said crossly. “Give me the omelette.”
    She ate it and Lalitha had the impression that she was longing to find fault, but actually found it delicious.
    “Pour me out some coffee,” she said sharply, but Lalitha was listening.
    “I think there is someone at the front door,” she said, “I heard the knocker. Jim has gone to Yelverton House with your note and I am sure the cook will not answer it.”
    “Then you had better condescend to do so,” Sophie said in a sarcastic tone.
    Lalitha went from the room and down the stairs again.
    She opened the front door.
    Outside was a liveried groom who handed her a note.
    “For Miss Sophie Studley, Ma’am!”
    “Thank you!” Lalitha said.
    The groom, raising his hat, turned away and she shut the door.
    Looking at the note Lalitha thought it must be another love-letter. They arrived for Sophie at all hours of the day.
    Lifting the hem of her dress, she started up the stairs.
    As she reached the landing there was a cry from the back room.
    Lady Studley slept in a small bed-chamber on the first floor because she disliked stairs.
    Sophie’s bed-room was on the second floor, as were all the other bed-rooms.
    Lalitha put the note on a table on the landing and went along the short passage which led to her Stepmother’s room.
    Lady Studley was standing by the bed, dressed for a Reception that she was attending in half an hour’s time.
    She was a large woman who had been good-looking in her youth, but her features had coarsened with middle-age and her figure had expanded.
    It was hard to realise that she could be the mother of the lovely Sophie, and yet she could look attractive if she wished.
    For Social occasions she also had an ingratiating manner which made many people find her quite a pleasant companion.
    Only those who lived with her knew how hard, how parsimonious, and how cruel she could be.
    She had a temper which she made no attempt to control unless it suited her and Lalitha saw now with a little tremor of fear that she was in a rage.
    “Come here, Lalitha!” she said as her Step-daughter entered the room.
    Timidly she did as she was told and Lady Studley held out towards her a lace