Chapter 15
Finally,Diana had a clear morning of writing in front of her. No Adam. No Goodwin sisters. No Mother. No Father. All seemed to be occupied with their owntasks.
Diana reread what she had written on her Christmas story and picked up where she leftoff.
Mother came home from the mill exhausted as she usually was. On her way home, she had spent a few pennies on some cabbage, carrots and a few parsnips to make a soup for their supper. As usual, there would be no meat. However, a neighbor had given her several beef bones she could cook up into a broth as a base for thesoup.
Tommy ran into the room with the happy news of his new job at the butcher’s and the promise of tripe for Christmasdinner.
“What a fine boy you are, Tommy,” Mother said as she patted his head. “It will be a very fine Christmas,indeed.”
Tommy threw himself on the bed beside his sister. He put his hand on herhead.
“Are you sad?” he asked, whispering in her ear so mother would nothear.
Doris turned her head toward her brother and whispered back, “There was not a single tree to be had for the little I hadsaved.”
“You saved money?” Tommy asked in wonderment, not knowing about her selling flowers to fine ladies on the street until she told him what she had beendoing.
“Maybe you could sell a few more before Christmas. Ladies love flowers at Christmas time,” heencouraged.
“I willtry.”
Tommy was afraid he would not wake up in time to be at the butcher’s on time, so he ran a thread out the window by the bed and tied the far end to a pipe across the alley where Mrs. Cartwright always passed by in the morning on her way to work at the bakery. He knew she went to work at four o’clock. He tied the other end to his finger and hoped that when she passed down the alley she would break the thread, which would pull on his finger and wake himup.
He was sound asleep when his hand was violently yanked and he awoke. He heard the church bells ringing three and heard Mr. Cartwright returning home drunk and banging into the trash bins. Tommy had forgotten about Mrs. Cartwright’s drunk husband and now he dare not fall asleep again in case he not wake up in time togoto his newjob.
There was an unexpected knocking at the front door and Diana was jerked out of her writingreverie.
“Oh bother,” she said, as she put down her pen and headed downstairs to see who wascalling.
She threw open the door a little too forcefully and it knocked against thewall.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, as she was surprised to see Robert standing before her. “Did we have anappointment?”
“We did not,” he said beaming. “But I read your first novel and I wanted to come and say how much I enjoyedit.
“You did?” she asked with somesurprise.
“It is such a lovely May morning. Come, let us take a walk in your meadow. I should like to talk to you aboutit.”
“Well…” shehesitated.
“Oh, I have interrupted your writing, have I not? I am sosorry.”
“Robert, no. It is quite all right. I can use a break anyway,” she lied. “But yes, it is a lovelymorning.”
Diana had to admit to herself that she was a little thrilled that Robert had liked her book. She had not expected him to. She grabbed a shawl from a peg in the front hall and closed the door behindher.
“I must stop by the gallery to let Mother know I shall be out if she comes looking forme.”
Diana opened the gallery, and the little bellrang.
“I am going walking with theEarl.”
“Very well, dear,” Motherresponded.
Robert waved to Mrs. Browning and then the two of them headed down the street toward themeadow.
