Читать книгу Wintersmoon онлайн

66 страница из 136

This was pleasant.

"Thank you, Mrs. Beddoes. I hope you will come to the wedding."

"Indeed and I will, Miss." Then she sighed, her original nature returning upon her. "This will mean losing another job for me. Always losing jobs through no fault of my own. That's what Beddoes says: Why is it, he says, that you're so unlucky, he says; you're the unluckiest woman I ever come across, he says—and so I am. It's gospel truth."

"Well, we'll see," said Janet. "Who knows what will happen? There may be jobs better than this."

"There may be and again there mayn't," said Mrs. Beddoes, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "You never know your luck, of course, but it's been my experience to find things always worse than they ought to be, and so it'll go on to the end, I expect. That's what they call fate."

Janet departed to have her bath and to dress. She was speedy in all her actions (dawdling was abhorrent to her), and soon she was back in the little sitting-room expecting to find Rosalind, very beautiful, and still in spite of her bath only half awake, pouring out dreamily the coffee. "She's dressed and gone out," Mrs. Beddoes explained. "Wouldn't 'ave her coffee. Said she was in a hurry. She's left that note."