Burnt Norton Read Online Free Page B

interest. When she finally found an entry devoted to her ability on a horse, she glowed with pride.
    Dorothy sits as if she were born in the saddle. I put her on Ophelia today and the child showed no fear; it warms my heart. She rode astride like a man. It is a shame that fashion dictates how women will ride. Utter foolishness.
    And he spoke of his love for Ophelia.
    The most obliging temperament I have yet to see. She is a truly beautiful mare. We put her between the shafts today. I have no doubt she will be a fine carriage horse.
    Later entries troubled her once more.
    That damned Irish woman, perhaps she is to blame. Thomas gets more peculiar by the moment. He will have to go away to school.
    She read another page, hoping the sickness in her stomach would disappear.
    We are going to London in a month’s time for Lizzie’s launch. The child is sixteen years old. Half the country is in love with her. Why on earth does she need to be launched into society? I don’t want to lose her to some spineless fool. She has become most dear to my heart.
    Stayed at the Charter House again. Much easier if I have two days together in my constituency. I was served by the landlord Johnson’s daughter. Pretty girl, she reminds me of Dorothy, with her sharp tongue and quick wit. Unusual for someone of her class.
    Dorothy put the diary back in the drawer. Everything was wrong. Her father hated Miss Byrne, Thomas was going away to school, and her father found her comparable to a landlord’s daughter.
    She made the first mistake at breakfast the following morning.
    ‘Do you know, young man’ – her father addressed John, who leant towards him eagerly – ‘that a new and better telescope has been invented? I am told you can see much farther than ever before.’
    ‘We can get one when we’re in London,’ Dorothy said.
    Everyone turned to look at her. ‘But we are not going to London,’ Lizzie said. ‘Are we, Papa?’
    For a moment her father looked puzzled. ‘As a matter of fact we are, but your sister has ruined my surprise. How did you know, Dorothy?’
    ‘I overheard you discussing it with Mama. I’m sorry,’ she said, her cheeks burning.
    He shook his head. ‘Well, I don’t remember you being there, Dorothy. And now that the element of surprise has been lost, I had better explain.’
    Dorothy wanted to cry. Her humiliation was compounded when her father smiled and told her Ophelia would be coming with them as lead horse.
    ‘How did you know?’ Elizabeth whispered conspiratorially, but for the first time Dorothy ignored her and refused to answer.
    That evening, Miss Byrne took Dorothy aside. ‘In Ireland, it is said that to pry is a sin and to lie is a sin. Nothing good will come of this, my girl.’
    That day she had committed two sins; perhaps now the family was paying for them.

4
    At Dorothy’s insistence, Miss Byrne brought a mirror to the bed. Dorothy’s face was swollen and her nose broken, the ache a constant reminder of all that she had lost.
    When at last she was on her own, she struggled to the window. Drawing back the curtains she gasped, for it was as if a wand had been waved, and the last of the summer vanished. Gales battered the countryside and trees littered the ground like fallen giants.
    That night, when the candles were snuffed, and the wind howled its continuous lament, she pulled the bedcovers over her head, but the terrors continued.
    ‘John’s frightened! Help him, Mama!’ she screamed, as the rain beat upon the casements.
    ‘He’s dead, my darling. John has gone to heaven.’ Her mother’s concerned face hovered above her.
    ‘Why? John loved us. He would never wish to leave us.’
    ‘I know, my darling, but God wanted him back,’ her mother said, gently pushing the damp hair from Dorothy’s forehead. ‘He was too precious for this world, and God chose your little brother to sit at his side.’
    But it wasn’t true, for as the household slept, Dorothy crept downstairs. Surrounded by