Page:Delight - de la Roche - 1926.djvu/215

 slip out tomorrow night, at ten. Meet me just outside the gates here and we'll talk things over." He moved away, and melted into the crowd. Kirke remarked, looking after him fiercely:

"I'd a mind to break this bottle over his head."

The lemonade was gratefully cool. . . . Delight, her head thrown back, was draining the last drop when she saw Mrs. Jessop emerge from the tent beside which they were standing. It was the gypsy's tent and the housekeeper had evidently been having her fortune told. She walked rigidly with a stony face, a strong, squat figure that gave way to no one. Delight breathed a sigh of relief because she had not seen her.

The next day everything was slack at Beemer's. The crowds were gone, everyone was dog-tired, and no one was doing his or her own work because they were plunged into their annual muddle on account of the arrival of a new Beemer baby. Mrs. Beemer had behaved better than Beemer had hoped for. She had been about the three days of the Fair. She had even cooked the supper on the last night, though she put so much pepper in the fried potatoes that the whole dining-room was in a state of panting, and had to have gallons of tea to ease their burnt throats.

It was her last fierce gesture before taking to her bed. She threw the empty pepper-pot on to a shelf, kicked the cupboard door to, and rolled out of the kitchen and into her bed.

Neither the maids nor Beemer, himself, had had much sleep that night. It was white dawn before the little new Beemer arrived. It was too late to go to bed, so Delight