The Foolish Heart Read online

  "She certainly could not," said a voice from the veranda, and Miles, followed by the faithful Sultan, reappeared. "Sorry," he added, "but I could not help overhearing, Judy. I've been thinking about your plan, and I've had a change of heart. I've no objection if you want to give the thing a trial."

  "That's kind of you," said Judy coolly. "I intend doing so in any case."

  "I hoped you'd be pleased," he reproached; "you said you would prefer to have my backing."

  The girl turned away without replying. His eyes sought Stevie's in half-comical concern, then returned to Judy.

  "There's one condition," he added. "You must have a companion. Some older woman, or a married couple. The man could help me on the land. You are not old enough or sufficiently experienced to manage such an outfit on your own. Don't think I am being unduly officious," he continued, his tone hardening, as Judy still made no response. "You must remember your father made me your guardian, and it is my duty to watch over your welfare until you are twenty-one, whether we like it or not."

  "It must be a great bore for you," Judy said with dignity. "I'm sorry."

  "It isn't a bore!" he retorted irritably; "it is just your attitude that makes the position impossible." He pulled himself up sharply, conscious of the nurse's presence. He wished the woman would go, then thought perhaps it was as well she was there, since he and Judy only seemed to wrangle whenever they were left alone.

  "Tea!" cried Stevie, filling the dangerous pause that followed with the easy tact of an expert hostess. "I think a cup of tea is clearly indicated for all. You'll join us, won't you, Mr. Beresford?"

  He glanced at Judy's averted profile.

  "But of course you will," she continued quickly; "we wouldn't hear of your going without a cup of tea, would we, Judy? You know, I think the Guest House plan quite excellent," she pursued, trying to bridge the gap between these two.

  "And where do I find a companion, or a suitable married couple?" demanded Judy, not looking at Miles.

  He glanced at Stevie.

  "I was hoping Nurse Stevens might stay until we'd located somebody."

  Stevie's heart leaped.

  "Of course, I'll stay if Judy needs me," she said. "I wouldn't dream of leaving her in the lurch. Would you like me to stay, Judy?"

  "Yes, please." Then the girl added more graciously: "It's kind of you to offer. I know you find it dull here."

  "It won't be dull when our guests arrive. We can go into details later," replied Stevie.

  She poured out the tea, thinking how pleasant life would be should she find herself dispensing tea in this charming house by rights, one of these fine days; herself married to Miles, the estate belonging to him wholly, and Judy far away, married to somebody else.

  But Judy drank her tea with no such happy day-dreams. She was hoping Miles had not guessed how she'd felt about him, and was wondering what she could do to prove how little she cared—now.

  … The next evening, an unknown car stopped outside the veranda. It was a large, new, but travel-stained station-wagon, well loaded with luggage, and occupied by the driver only, who climbed out as the girls approached across the lawn hesitated, then came towards them.

  Digby Maitland's two spaniels, Whisky and Soda, dashed forward to the stranger as he got out of the car.

  Judy called to the dogs authoritatively, and they trotted back to heel.

  The man straightened and said, looking from the dark-haired woman to the auburn-haired girl. "I must apologise for barging in on you like this, but I've missed my road. Could you direct me to the nearest hotel, please?"

  "There isn't one," said Judy. "At least, not before the township of Nakuret, fifteen miles on."

  "I don't know this part of the country at all, and I'm not keen on night driving in the wilds. What's the road like?"

  "Bad," they told him. "You have to go down Suicide Hill to reach Nakuret," Judy enlarged. "That's tricky enough when you know the road. But a stranger, and at night—" she broke off impressively.

  "H'm. Not so hot—eh?"

  The stranger continued to look from one to the other with a pair of audacious, blue eyes.

  He was of medium height, athletic in build, and spoke with the easy assurance of a man who knows he is a success with women.

  He had a pleasant open face, burnt brick red by the sun, a mop of unruly hair, and an engaging grin that displayed good teeth. He wore a tweed sports jacket over grey flannel trousers and an open-necked shirt, now begrimed with dust.

  "The prospect does not sound inviting," he observed. "I took a wrong turning somewhere. I reckoned to make Nakuret by four this afternoon. What a wonderful garden you have here," he added admiringly.

  Judy took to him at once. Anybody appreciating her garden gained her friendship on sight. Impulsively, she said:

  "You could spend the night here if you wished. I— we—this bungalow is about to be opened as a Guest House. You would be our first visitor. That is, if you cared to stay."

  "If I cared to! Sounds one of the better schemes to me. Thanks a lot. Do you really mean it?"

  "Of course."

  "We are not licensed, and at the moment there are no other guests," put in Stevie. "But our terms are reasonable and I think we could make you comfortable. Of course, we prefer to have references, or know a little about our visitors. We don't plan to take in strangers out of the blue, normally."

  "No. I quite understand. Rather not. My name is Peters. Larry Peters. You may know the Brownlows of Nairobi? Lola Brownlow is my sister."

  Judy looked inquiringly at Stevie. She disliked having to talk this way to so pleasant a visitor; she would have preferred to invite him to stay with no mention of payment, as her father would have done in similar circumstances. But the suggestion had come from her and she must go through with it now.

  "I've heard of the Brownlows," she said.

  "And I know Mrs. Brownlow slightly. We met once, at a wedding," Stevie said.

  Judy beamed. "That's all right, then," and the young man beamed back. "I assure you I am quite respectable. I've come up from the Cape by road. Touring Africa at my leisure. Lingering where the fancy takes me and finances permit. I'm a free-lance writer and general vagabond. It's a great life."

  Larry's connection with the Brownlows of Nairobi put the meeting on a more conventional footing. The three walked across to the house together, conversing easily. He was on his way to spend a month or so with his sister, he told them.

  He followed the two women up the veranda steps, and Stevie waved him authoritatively to one of the green wicker chairs that adorned the veranda.

  "If you'll just wait here…" she said… "while we arrange about your room," and she passed importantly through the glass doors that stood wide open all day, into the lounge.

  Judy, about to follow Stevie's retreating figure, was arrested by the stranger's voice:

  "Need you go, too?" he asked softly.

  Night was already falling. A blaze of fiery crimson stabbed the sky behind the graceful black outlines of the wattles; the sun had just gone down beyond the far flung hills, leaving the scene bathed in the golden radiance of the afterglow, which turned to rose and then violet in the swiftly darkening twilight of the tropics.

  He was merely a silhouette now against the sky, bat his voice, warm and vibrant with its hint of hidden laughter, seemed to reach out and caress her.

  "Stay and talk to me," he coaxed. "I've never met anybody quite like you before."

  "I expect you say that to all the girls."

  "No. Honestly. Only to the pretty ones. I take it you live here. This is your home?"

  "Yes ."

  "And the other lady?"

  "Is my assistant. I must go; she will be waiting. There are arrangements to be made…"

  "It's lovely!" he said gazing around him appreciatively. "And so," he added daringly, "are you!"

  Judy plunged into the lounge, feeling pleasantly flattered. Stevie stood there waiting, obviously none too pleased. She was
accustomed to being the person who gave the orders. She liked things to go her way.

  She said now, as Judy entered, "We shall have to fix our respective duties. Am I to give orders to the servants about the making up of beds or are you? It might be as well, since I presume you will continue running the catering, for me to take charge of the bedrooms. Linen cupboard and so on… what do you say?"

  "I think that is a very good suggestion."

  "Right. Now I know where I am. I didn't know what I was expected to do or say when that young man arrived."

  "You backed me up splendidly, Stevie." Judy tucked her arm inside the other's and led her away. "Please don't feel I'm the boss. We're partners. You are older than I am and so much more capable. I want you to take the head of the table, and do just as you like. Don't feel you must ask me before you ring a bell, or give orders to the servants."

  "Very well. If that is what you wish. This young man for instance—where shall we put him?"

  "I thought in the small guest-room. Oh, Stevie, isn't this fun! Kahawa Guest House has begun!"

  Larry Peters kept them enthralled the entire evening, launching into vivid descriptions and anecdotes of his travels, egged on by the flattering attention of his audience.

  And at breakfast the next morning, he was just as charming.

  He winked at Judy, as he said, "I shall certainly tell everyone I meet when I get to Nairobi about this place. I'm sure Lola would like to bring her babe for a change of air."

  "Oh, do you think she would?" cried Judy, thrilled.

  "Rather. And I shall certainly come here again myself, if you will have me."

  "What time are you leaving? Not that I want to hurry you, but you've a long run before you and it's as well to start before the heat of the day."

  Larry hesitated. "I suppose I should get cracking. But I don't have to go today, you know. My time is my own, and only a fool would want to leave this paradise. Would it be all right with you both if I stayed on for a bit?"

  Stevie said promptly that as far as she was concerned of course it would be all right.

  Judy said cheerfully:

  "After I've seen the cook, I'm going to take the dogs for a swim in the dam. You can come with me if you like."

  "Oh, good show! I'll bring my camera. I want to take some pictures of this place if I may, and I hope you will give me permission to use them to illustrate a travel book I am writing."

  "We'd be proud," Judy assured him.

  "Perhaps you had better ask Mr. Beresford's permission first," suggested Stevie.

  "Who's Mr. Beresford?" asked Larry keenly.

  "He is part owner of the estate with Judy," Stevie explained. "If you stay on no doubt you will meet him. He has his own bungalow in another part of the grounds."

  "Is that so," said Larry thoughtfully. "The Big White Chief—eh?"

  "Not at all," returned Judy crisply, jumping up. "He was my father's partner, and now he runs the place for me."

  Stevie rose also: "Why," she said, "there is Mr. Beresford coming up the hill now."

  Judy made for the door, calling the two dogs.

  "Come on." she said to Larry, "let's go."

  Without further ceremony she ran out to the veranda, down the steps and off through the wattle trees, avoiding the path up which Miles Beresford would come.

  Somehow she felt she could not encounter that deep, dark gaze this morning, the glance she had foolishly imagined said so much more than his lips.

  Stevie, not displeased at being left to face Miles alone, went out to the veranda to meet him.

  He glanced beyond Stevie to the empty lounge.

  "Is Judy still enthusiastic about her Guest House project?" he asked her.

  "Oh, certainly. In fact, the scheme is already operating."

  "How come?"

  Briefly, Stevie outlined the circumstances of Larry's arrival. Miles drew his dark brows together in a quick frown.

  "I don't like it," he said. "I knew the idea would only end in complications. I must see this fellow at once and send him packing."

  "You'll upset Judy if you do that."

  "It's for her own good. Her father was most particular in that respect. He'd want me to carry on the same way. If such a thing should happen again, please send word to me at once. No men are to stay here unless I've vetted them first."

  "Why are you so scared?"

  He looked startled.

  "Scared? Don't be absurd."

  "Well, what is all the fuss about? A few young men around Is just what Judy needs to rouse her from brooding over her father's death."

  "You think that?"

  "Certainly."

  "Her father did not want her to marry before she was twenty-one."

  "Yet you asked her to marry you," flashed Stevie, before she could stop herself.

  His expression did not alter.

  "She told you that?"

  Stevie hesitated. "Don't think I'm betraying her confidence. She treated the matter as a joke."

  "A joke?" He was stung.

  "Don't be hard on her," pleaded Steve, anxious to appear in the guise of kindly peacemaker; "she's young and thoughtless. To me, of course, you are not in the least old and stodgy, but…"

  He laughed harshly. "She called me that? Old and stodgy . . ! Thank you, nurse, for your enlightenment. I've been a fool."

  "I rather think the shoe is on the other foot. Some people don't know when they are well off." Stevie looked a trifle flushed, her conscience pricked her for that misleading statement. However, she had not told a lie. She had not actually said that Judy had called him 'old and stodgy,' she had merely implied it, and he had jumped to conclusions.

  "If only I hadn't been left her guardian," he burst out then. "It's an impossible situation. The girl refuses to leave this place. Marriage seemed the only workable solution. Her father would not have minded her marrying me. I would take care of her. But I shall not allow her to throw herself away on the first Tom, Dick or Harry who comes along. This chap Peters, for instance. What does he do?"

  "Free-lance writer and general vagabond," she said.

  Miles snorted. "Sounds like a plausible adventurer. Come, nurse, you're a woman of the world. What do you think of him?"

  Stevie hesitated. Though admitting his charm, she was privately not too impressed with Larry. She thought he was rather full of himself, and shrewdly surmised that nobody would ever mean very much to Mr. Larry Peters, except Mr. Larry Peters! On the other hand it was to Stevie's advantage to further the friendship. She said then, "It's rather too soon to form a definite opinion."

  "Judy seems to have found no difficulty!"

  "He's young," Stevie answered; "a suitable age for Judy Personally, young men bore me, so I don't find it easy to be fair!"

  "Oh, well, it doesn't matter. The fellow must go, tomorrow. I've a houseful of guests arriving for Judy Came over to tell her; I thought she'd be pleased. But now, I suppose, she'll think I'm interfering."

  "Who are these people?"

  "I was along at the Club in Nakuret last night. Met a chap who was looking for accommodation for the family of a friend of his. Fellow called Whitechurch, just out from home, who is building a bungalow about twenty miles from here; his family arrived last week and the place isn't ready yet. Hotels are all pretty booked up these days, and this fellow has a wife and three children. So I suggested they came along to Kahawa and he jumped at it. I'll go and tell Judy now, nurse."

  The two spaniels rushed up eagerly to him as he found Judy and Larry, sitting on the grass, chatting animatedly.

  Miles frowned as Judy stood up to introduce him to Larry.

  Larry said pleasantly, "Lovely place you have here, sir. Judy was telling me you know all about the local wild life. I'd be frightfully obliged if you could spare me half an hour sometime. I'm seeking information for a book I'm writing."

  Miles did not reply immediately. He took his time. Then he said politely, "Delighted, but you won't have much time, since you are l
eaving in the morning."

  "I haven't quite made up my mind which day I shall be leaving."

  "I'm afraid it will have to be tomorrow," said Miles mildly, but with a steely edge to his voice that caused Judy's quick temper to rise. "Your room is wanted for some new arrivals."

  Judy could control herself no longer.

  "Miles! What do you mean? We have no other guests due tomorrow and you know it."

  "On the contrary, my dear. I came over to tell you. A Mr. and Mrs. Whitechurch and their three children will be arriving at two or thereabouts. I fixed it up last night at the Club."

  "You fixed it up," exploded Judy. "You have no right to fix up anything without consulting me. The Guest House is my affair!"

  "I was not aware you already had a visitor. I thought you would be pleased."

  "I should not dream of turning Larry or any one else out, just because you had taken it upon yourself to interfere."

  Ignoring her completely, as if she were some small and tiresome child not to be taken seriously, Miles said to Larry, "I'm sorry. But you do realise the position, I'm sure."

  "Why, certainly. Of course. I'll pack my stuff and push off now if you'd prefer it."

  "No need. Tomorrow will do. I'm dining at the bungalow tonight, so I'll see you then."

  He nodded perfunctorily to Judy, and marched away up the hill.

  Judy was furious. "There is no need for you to leave tomorrow," she said defiantly to Larry.

  "The boss doesn't seem to agree with you."

  "He is not the boss."

  Larry's eyes followed the tall figure striding up the hillside. "Then he's a mighty good imitation!"

  "He can't treat me like this. I won't stand for it. I shall make you a test case. We can easily fit you in somewhere, even if it is only a camp bed in a corner of the veranda."

  "Don't worry, Judy. I'll go. It's time I was contacting Lola, anyway, and I wouldn't want to cause trouble between you and your guardian."

  "It's the principle of the thing," she protested.

  "I know how you feel, but it isn't worth upsetting yourself about it, believe me. Anyhow, I'll be back some other time."

  She smiled wanly at him. "I'm sorry about this." She thought privately that Miles had behaved badly, and he needed to be taught a lesson…