My Sister Celia (4 page)

He paused again, and Freda asked doubtfully, “Why possessive?”

“I can
’
t tell you, exactly. Except that perhaps it
’
s natural to want to be
first
with anyone so attractive. She
’
s quite innocent about it herself. She can
’
t be unaware of it, because she is intelligent, but she
’
s not in the least a trouble-maker—
”

“I
’
m sure she
’
s not!” interjected Freda indignantly, and, smiling, he leaned forward to pat her hand, as though to reassure her that he understood how

“It
’
s just that she is the kind of girl who naturally inspires a certain amount of jealousy and competition among those who love her and want to be first with her.”

“Do you love her and want to be first with her?” enquired Freda, before she could stop herself.

“Of course
,”
he retorted lightly. “I
’
ve told you—we all do.” But he smiled as he said that, so that she was not quite sure how seriously he meant the words. “But I at least don
’
t resent your appearing on the scene.”

“Meaning,” Freda said quickly, “that someone else may?”

“It
’
s possible.”

“Your parents, in fact?”

“I was thinking of them. Try not to blame them
too much, if they do, because
—”

“I shan
’
t blame them,” Freda interrupted gently. “I think I understand. You mean they will be a little frightened. Because they
’
ve always wanted to think of her as their own flesh and blood, and if a real sister turns up, that could undermine their sense of security.”

“Something like that. You see, they adore Celia. She
’
s been the pet of the household from the very beginning, and they just think there
’
s no one like her.”

“I—see,” Freda said slowly. “Then it
’
s going to be a shock for them to discover that there
is
someone exactly like her, so far as looks go.”

“And someone with a very special claim on her,” he added.

“I shan
’
t make any
claim
on her,” Freda protested.

“Not in the ordinary sense of the term, I
’
m sure. In fact, as I said before, you seem to be singularly undemanding,” he said kindly. “But no one has ever been able to disprove the saying that blood is thicker than water.”

“N—no,” agreed Freda, aware that the particular application of the saying to her own situation gave her a most extraordinary sensation. Then, after a moment, she asked quietly, “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Nothing very drastic.” He smiled. “I just wanted you to know the position—and to judge it as leniently as you could. And I would suggest that I am allowed to make the explanations to my parents, in my own way and at my own time.”

“Why, of course! I hadn
’
t thought of anything else.”

“Hadn
’
t you?” He looked amused. “I suppose I keep on expecting you to react like Celia, just because you look so much like her. As you
’
ve probably noticed, she
’
s tremendously impulsive and eager. In your position, she would certainly want to take the initiative.”

“She may still,” Freda observed shrewdly.

“Then we must manage to deflect her,” he replied, and, in some odd way, Freda was flattered by the use of “we” in this context.

“Would you like to come and dance now?” he enquired.

“I—I don
’
t think I dance well enough.”

“Well enough for what?” he enquired, with that touch of amusement again.

“I mean—I
’
ve never been to a real dance in my life. And I—I
’
m sure everyone here knows lots of
steps that I wouldn
’
t know at all and
—”

“I
’
m a very moderate performer myself,” he assured her. “Come and let
’
s see how we get on together.”

So, half pleased, half apprehensive, she went with him into the other room. And here she made the satisfactory discovery that she danced quite well enough for an informal party at the Ronaldsons. In fact, she was enjoying herself immensely, and had just decided that Brian Vanner was a natural smoother of difficult paths, when she became aware that the girl called Coralie was looking across the room at her as though she had no right to be on the earth at all.

Until that moment, so far as she knew, Freda had never inspired even a mild dislike in anyone (If one excepted that little brush with Laurence Clumber, that was to say.) But then, of course, she had never before been in a position to provoke envy.

It gave her a queer and disagreeable shock to see naked dislike in anyone
’
s eyes. But the moment was not without a tingling sensation of rather frightening triumph too. For Coralie
’
s dislike and envy were due solely to the fact that Freda was dancing with Brian Vanner, and so, in an odd way, they were a measure of Freda
’
s social and personal success that evening.

Freda glanced up into the strong, attractive face of the man who was dancing with her. But either he had not noticed Coralie (a pleasing thought in itself) or else he attached no importance to her glowering looks. At any rate, he merely smiled briefly at Freda and asked,

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Enormously,” she said truthfully. And, after that, Coralie didn
’
t seem to matter any more.

Later in the evening, Celia, flushed and sparkling from the pleasure of what was evidently a specially exciting evening for her, managed to get Freda to herself for a few minutes.

“Are you having a nice time, darling?” She squeezed Freda
’
s arm affectionately. “You look so pretty, with your cheeks flushed and your eyes so bright.”

“I was thinking just the same thing of you,” Freda replied, with a smile. “Yes, I
’
m having a lovely time, thank you. Bri—everyone has been so kind.”

“They
’
re a nice crowd,” Celia agreed carelessly. “By the way, who
’
s the handsome hunk of man who claimed you as an old friend?”

“The handsome
—
? Oh, that
’
s Laurence
Clumber.”

“I remember the name now. I
’
ve met him before, I think. But you know him very well, I take it? Are you sweet on him?” enquired Celia, with candour.

“
Sweet
on him?” gasped Freda. “No. I can
’
t st—I mean, we
’
re not on those terms at all.”

“On what terms are you, then?” enquired Celia curiously.

“I—I knew his great-aunt very well,” stated Freda sedately.

“Good heavens, how dull!” exclaimed Celia, and laughed heartily. “Haven
’
t you anything in common except a great-aunt?”

A faintly mischievous smile flitted over Freda
’
s face at that.

“I suppose,” she said reflectively, “one might say we have a common interest in a cottage in the country.”

“You dark little horse!” exclaimed Celia. “What do you mean by that, exactly?”

“Oh—nothing questionable,” Freda explained hastily. “I—I own a cottage more or less on his estate.”

“
Do
you?” Celia was impressed. “How perfectly lovely. You must ask me down there.”

“Oh, darling Celia, I will!” Freda looked suddenly radiant. “I can
’
t imagine anything more wonderful.”

“Just the two of us together, you mean?”

‘
Yes.” Freda nodded.

“And the handsome Laurence Clumber somewhere in the offing,” added Celia musingly. “Very delightful.”

Freda was tempted to say that Laurence Clumber was little more than a blot on the landscape, so far as she was concerned, but that would involve her in too many explanations, so she was silent. And, after a moment, Celia said,

“We
’
ll arrange it. And soon. What fun it is having a sister! Especially when she
’
s a landed proprietor.” Then she glanced at her little diamond wrist-watch and declared,

“We ought to be going.”

The party had not really shown any signs of breaking up. But, as Brian came and joined them, Celia said,

“I don
’
t think we ought to stay to the end. No one will mind if we go early, in the circumstances. We
’
ve a lot to explain to the parents.”

“We don
’
t have to explain it all to-night,” Brian pointed out drily.

“Not explain it all to-night? Don
’
t be absurd!” Celia was good-tempered but positive about that. “You don
’
t suppose I
’
m going to
sleep
on this terrific discovery, without telling them, do you?”

“It might be more considerate.”

“Nonsense. They
’
ll be thrilled,” Celia declared. And Freda saw that she was quite unable to believe that anyone could fail to share her own feelings over anything which concerned her greatly. “We must take Freda along with us, of course, so that they can see her for themselves.”

“I don
’
t think that would be the best way to do things.” Freda put in quickly, as a look of concern passed over Brian Vanner
’
s face. “You and your brother should explain everything to them first, surely. And then, if—if they want to see me, I can come some other time.”

“But that takes all the drama out of it,” Celia protested. “We should be taking you home, in any case. It
’
s only natural that we should call in at our place first, so that Mother and Father can see you. Then Brian will take you home, wherever you live.”

Freda could not help guessing that, in Brian
’
s view, this was the worst possible way of breaking the news to his parents. At the same time, Celia
’
s lovely, smiling face wore a look of remarkable obstinacy.

For a dreadful moment Freda saw herself as a bone of contention between her darling new sister and the delightful Brian Vanner, who had helped to make her evening so memorable. She glanced round for something—anything—with which to avert such a catastrophe. And, as her glance lighted on Laurence Clumber, quite near at hand, she suddenly
found the solution.

“It
’
s sweet of you, Celia dear,” she said. “But I
’
m afraid I can
’
t let you and Mr. Vanner take me home. Mr. Clumber has already undertaken to do that. Haven
’
t you?”

And stretching out her hand, she closed her fingers compellingly on Laurence Clumber
’
s arm.

CHAPTER THREE

If
Laurence Clumber was astonished to be claimed as Freda
’
s escort home, he concealed the fact with admirable coolness. For one perilous moment, certainly, he looked down at her, while she wondered if he intended to humiliate her with a refusal, in front of everyone. Then he said, with the faintest drawl in his voice,

“Sure—I
’
m taking you home. No one
’
s going to dispute my claim to that pleasure.”

“But then—” Celia looked put out—
“
that upsets all my plans.”

“Never mind, dear.” Freda spoke soothingly.
‘
You
’
ll have all the fun of showing me to the home circle another time. It wouldn
’
t have been a good idea to do it to-night, you know. These things can fall pretty flat if they
’
re wrongly timed—and it
’
s late for springing a surprise on anyone. Bri—Mr. Vanner is quite right”—her voice took on a note of sisterly authority—
“
your parents should be allowed some preparation first.”

“We—ell
—”
reluctantly, Celia abandoned her
original scheme—
“
have it your own way.”

It surprised, and even slightly alarmed, Freda to discover that she had actually imposed her will on Celia
’
s. But the glance of approval which she received from Brian Vanner warmed her heart. What Laurence Clumber was thinking was another matter. But that she would have to tackle later.

She and Celia then went upstairs to fetch their things, and, in the bedroom, Celia hugged her unselfconsciously and said,