Winds of Enchantment Read Free

answered, not too readily.
    After finishing a cider at the pub, Pat regretfully stood up. “I must go home and prepare some lunch to satisfy that appetite of Bill’s. So long.”
    Out once more in the hot sunshine, she blinked. Celia was coming down the road, walking with those delicate steps of hers, her skirt swinging, a white straw hat shading her eyes. Pat waited and fell into step beside her. “Steve’s in there,” she jerked her head in the direction of the pub.
    “I thought so,” Celia said, with displeasure. “Since your father’s been home, Stephen’s always in the Mermaid. Did I see you come out of the place?”
    “We were sunbathing and got thirsty. The Mermaid isn’t a bad place. It’s clean and cool.”
    “I prefer to take my refreshment in my own house.” At the junction of the road they halted.
    “Celia, Steve says we may use the launch tonight for a picnic. The weather’s so settled and it’s sure to be lovely on the sea. Shall we each bring half the food?”
    The pale brow showed the faintest pucker. “Stephen must have forgotten. We’re dining with my brother tonight.”
    “But that wouldn’t matter. We wouldn’t set off till eleven. Do say yes, Celia. We could swim first and then have our eats.”
    Celia allowed a moment to elapse. “I’m sorry, Pat,” with cool politeness. “Stephen and I work for our living. We can’t afford to stay up till two or three in the morning. You may borrow the launch, of course, providing you leave it as neat as you find it.”
    “Thanks.” Pat felt chilled, and was about to turn right to her own cottage when Celia’s hand touched her arm.
    “Has your father decided what to do with you?” she asked.
    “We’re satisfied to go on as we are,” Pat muttered.
    Celia sighed. “Hasn’t he any parental conscience? It’s too bad to have to remind a man of his obligations to his own daughter.”
    “I can look after myself, Celia,” Pat answered shortly. She threw a brief farewell over her shoulder and sped along to the cottage. Anticipation in the picnic had faded, and suddenly she felt curiously close to tears. Celia’s implication that Bill thought only of himself had put a dart into Pat’s heart ... was it true?
    Celia and Steve came to tea the following Sunday, and they had it in the garden beneath the young copper beech at the end of the lawn. Celia, fresh and perfect in green linen, charmingly accepted her cup from Pat, a sandwich from Bill, and a cushion for her back from Steve.
    Presently, she asked graciously.: “Mr. Brading, have you any plans for Pat?”
    “Plans?” B ill looked startled. “What for?”
    Celia smiled diffidently. “Don’t think me interfering—Stephen and I are naturally interested in Pat. Don’t you think she should have a chance of meeting people? After all, you must be a fairly wealthy man.”
    Bill’s tone was as pleasant as ever. “Are you suggesting that I keep her short of money? Do I, Pat?”
    “You know different.” Then Pat gave a laugh. “I believe Celia thinks I ought to learn the graces and start mixing with the elite of Caystor.”
    “Cut it out, Pat,” said Steve, frowning.
    “It’s true, though, isn’t it?” she returned lightly. “When I was just a beach urchin, it didn’t matter. Now you feel you ought to invite me to parties where my feelings could get hurt.”
    Celia’s spoon rattled in her saucer, then she turned to Bill. “Do you realize that Pat hasn’t a single friend of her own age?”
    “She doesn’t need them,” he rejoined. “She’s as adult as you are.”
    “That’s a matter of opinion.” Celia had stiffened, her cool glance sweeping Pat’s casual attire and carelessly combed hair.
    “Tell me, Miss Mellor, what you’d have me do for Pat?” Bill invited.
    Celia missed the undertone of sarcasm. “I’d take a larger house, hire some staff, and entertain the right sort of people.”
    “The right sort of people,” he echoed musingly. ‘You’d have me