At Odds With Love. Бетти Нилс

had left for her and longed for her half-day so that she could replenish the tin. No wonder the professor hadn’t stayed for lunch, she thought sourly; his vast frame needed a good deal more nourishment than a single lamb chop. He might have warned her—but there again, why should he, seeing that she had taken the job with her eyes open and she a grown woman, able to look after herself?

      If life wasn’t exactly rosy for herself, at least Bruno, Percy and Simpkin were happy and safe and Bill had become their devoted friend.

      The postman had brought her a copy of the Nursing Times and last week’s Lady. There hadn’t been anything suitable in the Lady but she had answered two advertisements for ward sister posts, one in London and one in Manchester, and she had written out an advertisement, stressing the need for a living-out post because of the animals, offering to go anywhere in England. The postman had taken it with him and all she had to do was wait in patience.

      Lady Grimstone had few visitors and depended upon Jane for company for a good deal of the day, keeping her busy with a dozen small chores, and talking endlessly about her youth. Jane wished that she would talk about the professor and his family but he was never mentioned; Lady Grimstone preferred to give details of the more exalted members of her family and Jane put on a listening face and murmured suitably while she pondered her future.

      It was obvious by the end of the week that her employer wasn’t going to do anything about her half-day unless she brought the matter up.

      ‘Is it already a week since you came, Miss Fox?’ Lady Grimstone sounded disbelieving. ‘Well, I suppose you must have it since you expect it. I should have thought that you would have been quite content here, living as you do in such delightful surroundings.’

      ‘I am very content,’ Jane pointed out politely, ‘but I do need to buy one or two things—toothpaste and stamps, and Percy and Simpkin do like those little crunchy biscuits …’

      ‘Well, in that case, you had better have Saturday afternoon after you have settled me for my nap and taken Bill for his walk. I expect you back by ten o’clock at the latest, Miss Fox. Miss Smithers is never late.’

      ‘I’m sure I shall be back before then,’ said Jane; indeed, what was there to keep her out after she had had a meal at the pub Miss Smithers had recommended?

      She bent her lovely head over a tangle of knitting Lady Grimstone had ordered her to put to rights, already planning a busy Saturday afternoon so that not a minute of it should be wasted.

      Jane told herself that Lady Grimstone wasn’t being deliberately slow in settling down for her afternoon nap on Saturday; certainly she took twice as long as usual, calling Jane back twice before she could at last escape, to give Bill one of the briskest walks he had ever had, take him back to the kitchen where Blake, who was disposed to be friendly even if very much on his dignity, had promised to keep an eye on him, see to her own three, and then, very neat in the tweed suit, walk to the village.

      It was a chilly day but it was wonderful to be free even for such a short time and the village store was better than she had hoped for. She bought stamps and notepaper, the newest Nursing Times and Lady, the local weekly paper and a couple of paperbacks, and then she turned her attention to the biscuits.

      The friendly soul behind the counter, with no one else in the shop, was disposed to chat. ‘Miss Smithers she likes digestive, says they fill her up nicely, but rich tea’s tasty. She always took a jar of Bovril too, said the water from the tap was hot enough to make a bedtime drink.’