The Temptation of Torilla Read Online Free Page B

the miners.
    There were pitifully few gowns to pack, but Abby spent the next day washing and ironing, pressing and sewing.
    Torilla had also a few clothes left which had belonged to her mother, pretty frocks and evening gowns, which she had had no opportunity to wear in the grime and isolation of Barrowfield.
    She was afraid that they were out of date. But she had no way of gauging whether or not this was true for they had no money to waste on ‘The Ladies Journal or any other magazine which showed sketches of the latest London fashions.
    However, Torilla was not really worried about this since she was sure that Beryl would be as generous to her as she had always been.
    Wearing a somewhat threadbare cloak over a plain muslin gown and a chip-straw bonnet trimmed with cheap blue ribbons, she left the Vicarage early on Monday morning to catch the stagecoach, which was to carry her on the first part of her journey.
    “You oughtn’t to be travelling alone, and that’s a fact!” Abby said as they waited at the crossroads for the coach that started from Leeds.
    “Well, we can hardly pretend I am a babe in arms,” Torilla answered with a smile, “and there is no other way we could travel on one ticket.”
    “Now don’t you go talking to strangers,” Abby admonished, “and that reminds me – there’s something else I want to say to you, Miss Torilla.”
    “What is that?” Torilla asked a little apprehensively.
    “For the last two years, dearie, you’ve lived a strange unnatural life for a young girl with nothing but misery, poverty and squalor around you. What I want to say is, don’t you go talking about it too much when you’re with her Ladyship.”
    “Why ever not?” Torilla asked.
    “Because people don’t want to listen to such things, Miss Torilla. They want to talk about happy things, not miserable ones.”
    Abby paused a moment before she went on,
    “Do you remember how your mother used to say to the Master, ‘Cheer up, darling, you can’t take all the worries and sins of the world on your shoulders’?”
    Torilla gave a little smile.
    “Yes, I remember Mama saying that, and Papa used to ask, ‘Am I being a bore?’”
    “That’s right,” Abby said, “and since your dear mother passed away that’s exactly what the Master has become, Miss Torilla, to other people.”
    “I don’t think him a bore!” Torilla exclaimed loyally.
    “No, dear, but other people would,” Abby said, “and that’s why, when you’re away from here, forget what you’ve seen and what you’ve heard, and just go back into the sunshine of life as it was when you were at home.”
    She said the last words deliberately and she saw the sudden light in Torilla’s blue eyes.
    She knew she was thinking how happy they had all been in the Vicarage that stood in a clean attractive village of thatched cottages with flower-filled gardens.
    “You promise me,” Abby said insistently.
    “That I will not be a bore?” Torilla asked. “Yes, of course I promise, but oh, Abby, I wish you were coming with me! If anyone deserves a holiday it is you!”
    “It’ll be a holiday for me thinking of you having a bit of fun for a change,” Abby replied.
    She looked up the road and saw the stagecoach in the distance.
    “Here it comes!” she exclaimed. “Now have a lovely time, dearie. Enjoy every moment of it and just forget everything else.”
    “I will never forget you, dear Abby,” Torilla sighed.
    She put her arms round the old maid’s neck and kissed her on both cheeks.
    “Thank you for promising to look after Papa. It is all thanks to you that I can be at Beryl’s wedding.”
    “Tell Her Ladyship I’ll be wishing her every happiness,” Abby said, “and I hope she’s got a man who’s worthy of her.”
    “I hope so, too,” Torilla answered.
    The stagecoach, its roof heavily laden with luggage as well as a few male passengers, rumbled noisily to a standstill beside them.
    The guard jumped down to pick up Torilla’s