Francie Again Read Free

“It’s gay there, and I think you’ll like it.”
    â€œMe?” Until this minute, Francie had not thought how the news would affect herself. But now that Aunt Lolly had said it, she realized that it was inevitable. Pop had refused to let her come to Paris and live here by herself, and now that Aunt Lolly wouldn’t be here—Oh, it was a disappointment! No Paris, no art classes with Plessis, the whole academic year lost! From the heights of bliss Francie fell with a bump.
    â€œPoor child. I’m so sorry,” said Aunt Lolly. “I know what it means to you. It really is a shame.”
    â€œWe wondered if maybe you’d rather go on with your course in New York after all,” said Uncle Martin, “but it’s kind of late in the day to change that, I guess. Anyway for this term.”
    Francie had to steady her voice before replying.
    â€œI don’t think they’d let me come in now. They’ve been in session a couple of weeks already.”
    â€œNo, I was afraid of that,” said Uncle Martin. “Anyway, to tell you the truth I’m just as glad, for selfish reasons. If you weren’t here your aunt would have had to stay in Portugal by herself. I could have managed to go along and settle her in, but I couldn’t have stayed. Now if you’re with her—”
    â€œMartin, you know that’s not necessary,” said Mrs. Barclay. “I can manage beautifully by myself. Portuguese servants are very kind and helpful. If Francie would rather go back to America and carry on with her studies I’d understand perfectly, and so would her father, I’m sure.”
    She meant it, Francie knew that. Aunt Lolly was always thoughtful and genuine. And it would be more pleasant for herself, she was sure, to go back to Pop and find some way of carrying on with the work she liked so much. There were private teachers. A whole year wasted in Portugal! But—
    She stole a glance at Uncle Martin. He looked worried. He was hoping, hard, that she would go with Aunt Lolly. Francie suppressed a sigh, and said,
    â€œI want to stay with you, of course, Aunt Lolly, if you’ll have me.”
    â€œGood girl,” said Uncle Martin.

CHAPTER 2
    The windows reached to the top of the room, a long way above head height. When they were unobscured they looked on a wonderful near-emptiness of blue sea and blue sky. You could pull them open enough to squeeze halfway out, Francie had learned, to a little ornamental metal balcony. You couldn’t go farther because there was simply nowhere to stand, but it was a good place there between the room and the sea. It was a wonderful place to stand and brood, romantically and sorrowfully, about life’s buffets.
    Unfortunately the hotel chambermaid didn’t seem to understand that windows were for opening. She carried on relentless war against fresh air and light. First thing in the morning when she came in with Francie’s chocolate she would go and close not only the glass casements but the little shutters inside them. When Francie objected, she pretended not to understand. Perhaps she really didn’t, because Francie’s Portuguese was scanty. The maid would say something about heat, and sunlight in the middle of the day, and then she would pull down a sunblind behind the shutter before she went out.
    â€œIt’s a Portuguese custom,” Aunt Lolly said when Francie complained. “They think the room is cooler if you never open the shutters. And really, dear, they might possibly be right. They’ve lived here, you know, all their lives.”
    Francie sighed with impatience, but complained no more. She went back to her room and opened the window for the tenth time.
    It wasn’t fair to bother Aunt Lolly, especially as the change of scene and air seemed to be doing her a lot of good. They had been in Estoril, the seaside suburb of Lisbon, for little more than a fortnight, but already Mrs.