"Andre Norton - The Opal-Eyed Fan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

and down the front stairs. Raised voices drew her to the back part of the house.
"You know, Miss Lydia, what the Captain would say—and do, if he were home."
"Yes, but he isn't. And if he can open his precious house to these people he dragged off the A
rrow—then I can entertain a friend. My friend. And I'm not asking any leave of Crewe, which I couldn't
any way—since he is not at home. Mam Rose and Sukie are to do just as I told them—the best china and
linen and good food. Ralph Grillon is no seagoing trash. He has every bit as much authority in the islands as
Crewe assumes here. And I am not going to be ashamed of this house when he visits. I saw Mason go off
to warn Crewe, but it'll be hours, if ever, before he has that wreck off the reef and ready to bring in. I
heard him say so. In the meantime, I am entertaining a gentleman and giving him such hospitality as we are
noted for—" Her voice rose higher with every vehement word.
Persis, embarrassed, wanting to be away from her involuntary eavesdropping, took several steps
back-ward. So when she bumped into someone who must have entered very quietly indeed, it gave her
such a start she nearly lost her balance. A hand fell on her arm, grasping her firmly, and she turned to look
over her shoulder up into the sun-and-sea-browned face of a stranger.
"Steady as you go, ma'am!" The laughter in his eyes matched the curve of his lips. "Never thought
I'd be a reef to bring up short such a pretty craft—"
His eyes were not only laughing, but bold. Persis stiffened, not caring for the way he deliberately
looked her up and down. As if she were a ship and he was con-sidering purchasing her.
He wore a blue jacket with brass buttons which the sea air had not been allowed to tarnish, and his
hair curled about his forehead, for his head was bare though he held an officer's cap in one hand. She had
to look well up, for in height he matched Uncle Augus-tin's inches. But he was sparkling alive, having none
of her uncle's aloof reserve.
Persis flushed, realizing she had been staring at him almost as boldly as he had eyed her. Now,
dropping his hand from her arm, he bowed.
"Ralph Grillon, at your service, ma'am," he intro-duced himself. There was the faintest of accents in
his voice. She found it interesting. "Very much at your service."
She thought he accented that "your" and blushed a little deeper as with a cry of "Ralph!" Lydia
came run-ning down the hall, both hands outstretched in very open and informal greeting.


3
Persis had no chance to confer with Mrs. Pryor over the vexing questions concerning fees. Everything now
centered about the very dashing Captain Grillon as Lydia made very sure it must. It was apparent that she
was completely captivated by her guest, her de-meanor far from proper when she showed such a marked
preference. Persis, so carefully schooled in the restraint of Uncle Augustin's household, so well taught in
the manners of Miss Pickett's Academy, was embarrassed by Lydia's exuberance. And then trou-bled
somewhat on her own account when she became aware that Captain Grillon was making a determined
effort to include her in their company, in spite of Ly-dia's beginning frowns.
That the Captain was handsome Persis admitted, against her better judgment, for he was too handsome
somehow. And she found his familiar way of address-ing both her and Lydia increasingly disturbing. Final-ly she
made an excuse of the necessity of attending on her uncle and managed to reach the chamber which had been given
her. There she found Molly shaking her head over the creased and dampened contents of the trunk.
"Just look at this!" The maid held up a flounced dress of pale-green spotted muslin. But there were other
spots on it now and the ruffles hung damply limp. "I'll wash and iron them. But, Miss Persis, some of these ain't never
goin' to look nice and fresh again— I'll give you my word on that!"
Perhaps an hour ago the implied destruction of her wardrobe might have been a catastrophe for Persis. But
now, though she did not in the least want to con-tinue wearing the charity of Lydia Leverett, she had more important
matters on her mind.
"Molly!" She raised her voice, lacing it with author-ity to get her companion's full attention. "Is there a way
you can arrange for me to speak privately with Mrs. Pryor?"