Маленькая хозяйка большого дома / The Little Lady Of The Big House

10

It was long after ten in the morning, when Graham wandered into the music room. Despite the fact that he was a several days’ guest in the Big House, so big was it that the music room was a new territory. It was an exquisite room where a warm golden light was diffused from a skylight of yellow glass.

Graham was lazily contemplating some pictures, when of his eye, he saw his hostess. She came in from the far entrance. She was clad entirely in white, and looked very young and quite tall.

They smiled greeting across the room. She came toward him.

“You made a mistake with this room,” he said gravely.

“No, don’t say that! But how?”

“It must be longer, much longer, twice as long at least.”

“Why?” she demanded, with a disapproving shake of head.

“Because, then,” he answered, “you will walk twice as far this morning and my pleasure of watching you will be correspondingly increased.”

“I see you are like Dick,” she retorted. “always with your compliments. Now I want to show you the room. Dick gave it to me. It’s all mine, you see.”

“And the pictures?”

“I selected them,” she nodded, “every one of them. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Graham was prepared to talk on pictures, when Donald Ware entered. His violin was under his arm, and he crossed to the piano.

“We’re going to work till lunch,” Paula explained to Graham. “We’ll see you there. You can stay if you care, of course; but I warn you it’s really going to be work. And we’re going swimming this afternoon. Four o’clock at the pool, Dick says. Also, he’s got a new song he’s going to sing then. What time is it, Mr. Ware?”

“Ten minutes to eleven,” the musician answered briefly.

“You’re ahead of time—the engagement was for eleven. And till eleven you’ll wait, sir. I must see Dick, first. I haven’t said good morning to him yet.”

Paula knew her husband’s timetable. Her notes reminded her that he had coffee at six-thirty; was inaccessible between nine and ten, dictating correspondence to Blake; was inaccessible between ten and eleven, conferring with managers and foremen[59].

At eleven, unless there were unexpected telegrams or business, she could usually find Dick alone. Passing the secretaries’ room, she pressed the button that swung aside a section of filled book-shelves and revealed the tiny spiral of steel steps that led up to Dick’s work room. A shade of vexation passed across her face as she recognized Jeremy Braxton’s[60] voice. Jeremy was the general superintendent of the Harvest Group[61]. And the news he was telling was not good. She paused in indecision and stole back down the spiral on her way to the music room. She was depressed, due to her missing her morning greeting to Dick. But this depression vanished at seeing Graham, who had lingered with Ware at the piano.

“Don’t run away,” she urged. “Stay and watch the people work. Maybe you will start that book Dick has told me about.”