The Temptation of Torilla Read Free Page B

looked out at the front of the house and therefore faced North.
    There were a few pieces of good furniture they had brought with them from the South, but the curtains were of cheap material although Abby and Torilla had done their best to copy one of the draped pelmets they had seen at Fernleigh Hall.
    But no matter what efforts they made the contrast was sharp from the lovely home Torilla had grown up in. It was difficult, Torilla often thought, no matter how kind or generous her Uncle Hector had been, to be a member of the poorer side of the family.
    The Countess of Fernleigh’s younger sister Elizabeth had married Augustus Clifford when he was a curate at St. George’s Hanover Square in London.
    The Earl of Fernleigh, to oblige his wife, had appointed him Vicar of the small parish of Fernford on his estate in Hertfordshire, and Torilla and Beryl had grown up together.
    For the first cousins it had been a very happy arrangement, and although Beryl was two years older than Torilla the difference in their ages had not been obvious.
    Torilla was in fact far cleverer than her wealthier cousin, and it had not been so much a case of her trying to keep up with the older girl as of Beryl lagging behind when it came to lessons.
    The Countess of Fernleigh preferred to spend most of the year in London and therefore Beryl spent more time with her aunt than she did with her mother.
    She had loved Mrs. Clifford and, when she died unexpectedly one cold winter, Beryl had been almost as grief-stricken as Torilla.
    Losing her mother had completely changed Torilla’s whole way of life.
    The Reverend Augustus had decided that the only possible thing for him to do was to leave the house where he had been so happy with his wife.
    He no longer wished to work in the quiet country village where there was little for him to do. Instead, he had applied to be sent to one of the most desolate and poverty-stricken areas in the North of England, and within two months of his wife’s death he had been appointed to Barrowfield.
    It had all happened so quickly that Torilla had hardly realised what was going on, until she found herself in a strange, alien place away from everything that was familiar with only Abby to cling to in her unhappiness.
    To the Reverend Augustus it was a relief from his misery and also a challenge that no one had realised he had wanted all his life.
    Driven by a fervent desire to help those less fortunate than himself and imbued with a crusading spirit, he flung himself wholeheartedly into the problems and difficulties he found in the terrifying squalor of a Northern mining village.
    It was as if he took on the hosts of evil entirely by himself.
    Only Torilla and Abby knew that in his fervour he would, if they had not prevented him, have gone without food and sleep in his efforts to improve the conditions he found in his new parish.
    Every penny of his stipend and the little money he had of his own was spent on the people for whom he worked.
    It was only because Abby insisted on his giving her enough money for the housekeeping as soon as the cheques came in that they were saved from starvation.
    As she seated herself now at the dining room table, Torilla knew that the real difficulty in getting her father’s permission to go South would be the cost of the journey.
    “I have had a letter from Beryl toady, Papa,” she said as the Vicar poured himself a glass of water, and Abby came in through the door carrying the leg of mutton.
    “From Beryl?” the Vicar asked vaguely as if he had never heard the name.
    “Beryl is to be married, Papa. She begs me to go and stay at The Hall and help her with her trousseau. And she has asked me to be her bridesmaid.”
    “Oh, Beryl !” the Vicar exclaimed, picking up the carving knife and starting to slice the mutton.
    “You will not mind if I go, Papa?” Torilla asked.
    “No, no. Of course not,” the Vicar replied.
    Then, as he cut a slice and put it on the plate, he added,
    “But I