openly flirting with Mr Crale.
Naturally Mrs Crale said nothing to me, but I could see that she was disturbed and unhappy, and I did everything in my power to distract her mind and lighten her burden. Miss Greer sat every day to Mr Crale, but I noticed that the picture was not getting on very fast. They had, no doubt, other things to talk about!
My pupil, I am thankful to say, noticed very little of what was going on. Angela was in some ways young for her age. Though her intellect was well developed, she was not at all what I may term precocious. She seemed to have no wish to read undesirable books, and showed no signs of morbid curiosity such as girls often do at her age.
She, therefore, saw nothing undesirable in the friendship between Mr Crale and Miss Greer. Nevertheless she disliked Miss Greer and thought her stupid. Here she was quite right. Miss Greer had had, I presume, a proper education, but she never opened a book and was quite unfamiliar with current literary allusions. Moreover she could not sustain a discussion on any intellectual subject.
She was entirely taken up with her personal appearance, her clothes, and men.
Angela, I think, did not even realize that her sister was unhappy. She was not at that time a very perceptive person. She spent a lot of time in hoydenish pastimes, such as tree climbing and wild feats of bicycling. She was also a passionate reader and showed excellent taste in what she liked and disliked.
Mrs Crale was always careful to conceal any signs of unhappiness from Angela, and exerted herself to appear bright and cheerful when the girl was about.
Miss Greer went back to London-at which, I can tell you, we were all very pleased! The servants disliked her as much as I did. She was the kind of person who gives a lot of unnecessary trouble and forgets to say thank you.
Mr Crale went away shortly afterwards, and of course I knew that he had gone after the girl. I was very sorry for Mrs Crale. She felt these things very keenly. I felt extremely bitter towards Mr Crale. When a man has a charming, gracious, intelligent wife, he’s no business to treat her badly.
However, she and I both hoped the affair would soon be over. Not that we mentioned the subject to each other-we did not-but she knew quite well how I felt about it.
Unfortunately, after some weeks, the pair of them reappeared. It seemed the sittings were to be resumed.
Mr Crale was now painting with absolute frenzy. He seemed less preoccupied with the girl than with his picture of her. Nevertheless I realized that this was not the usual kind of thing we had gone through before. This girl had got her claws into him and she meant business. He was just like wax in her hands.
The thing came to a head on the day before he died-that is on Sept. 17. Miss Greer’s manner had been unbearably insolent the last few days. She was feeling sure of herself and she wanted to assert her importance. Mrs Crale behaved like a true gentlewoman. She was icily polite, but she showed the other clearly what she thought of her.
On this day, Sept. 17, as we were sitting in the drawing-room after lunch, Miss Greer came out with an amazing remark as to how she was going to redecorate the room when she was living at Alderbury.
Naturally Mrs Crale couldn’t let that pass. She challenged her, and Miss Greer had the impudence to say, before us all, that she was going to marry Mr Crale. She actually talked about marrying a married man-and she said it to his wife!
I was very, very angry with Mr Crale. How dared he let this girl insult his wife in her own drawing-room? If he wanted to run away with the girl, he should have gone off with her, not brought her into his wife’s house and backed her up in her insolence.
In spite of what she must have felt, Mrs Crale did not lose her dignity. Her husband came in just then, and she immediately demanded confirmation from him.
He was, not unnaturally, annoyed with Miss Greer for her unconsidered forcing of the situation. Apart from anything else, it made him appear at a disadvantage, and men do not like appearing at a disadvantage. It upsets their vanity.
He stood there, a great giant of a man, looking as sheepish and foolish as a naughty schoolboy. It was his wife who carried off the honours of the situation. He had to mutter foolishly that it was true, but that he hadn’t meant her to learn it like this.
I have never seen anything like the look of scorn she gave him. She went out of the room with her head held high. She was a beautiful woman-much more beautiful than that flamboyant girl-and she walked like an Empress.
I hoped, with all my heart, that Amyas Crale would be punished for the cruelty he had displayed and for the indignity he had put upon a long-suffering and noble woman.
For the first time, I tried to say something of what I felt to Mrs Crale, but she stopped me.
She said:
‘We must try and behave as usual. It’s the best way. We’re all going over to Meredith Blake’s to tea.’
I said to her then:
‘I think you are wonderful, Mrs Crale.’
She said:
‘You don’t know…’
Then, as she was going out of the room, she came back and kissed me. She said:
‘You’re such a comfort to me.’
She went to her room then and I think she cried. I saw her when they all started off. She was wearing a big- brimmed hat that shaded her face-a hat she very seldom wore.
Mr Crale was uneasy, but was trying to brazen things out. Mr Philip Blake was trying to behave as usual. That Miss Greer was looking like a cat who has got at the cream-jug. All self-satisfaction and purrs!
They all started off. They got back about six. I did not see Mrs Crale again alone that evening. She was very quiet and composed at dinner, and she went to bed early. I don’t think that any one knew how she was suffering.
The evening was taken up with a kind of running quarrel between Mr Crale and Angela. They brought up the old school question again. He was irritable and on edge, and she was unusually trying. The whole matter was settled and her outfit had been bought, and there was no sense in starting up an argument again, but she suddenly chose to make a grievance of it. I have no doubt she sensed the tension in the air and that it reacted on her as much as on everybody else. I am afraid I was too preoccupied with my own thoughts to try and check her as I should have done. It all ended with her flinging a paperweight at Mr Crale and dashing out of the room.
I went after her and told her sharply that I was ashamed of her behaving like a baby, but she was still very uncontrolled, and I thought it best to leave her alone.
I hesitated as to whether to go to Mrs Crale’s room, but I decided in the end that it would, perhaps, annoy her. I wish since that I had overcome my diffidence and insisted on her talking to me. If she had done so, it might possibly have made a difference. She had no one, you see, in whom she could confide. Although I admire self- control, I must regretfully admit that sometimes it can be carried too far. A natural outlet to the feelings is better.
I met Mr Crale as I went along to my room. He said goodnight, but I did not answer.
The next morning was, I remember, a beautiful day. One felt when waking that surely with such peace all around even a man must come to his senses.
I went into Angela’s room before going down to breakfast, but she was already up and out. I picked up a torn skirt which she had left lying on the floor and took it down with me for her to mend after breakfast.
She had, however, obtained bread and marmalade from the kitchen and gone out. After I had had my own breakfast I went in search of her. I mention this to explain why I was not more with
