Book by Elwin Harris Ruth
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Geoffrey often came over to Hillcrest during the Easter holidays, at first with Antony but later, as he became more at ease, on his own. He was quiet but observant, sometimes content to sit in watchful silence, sometimes asking questions. He wanted to know about Commander Purcell's portrait hanging on the wall and was surprised to learn that it had been painted by Mrs. Purcell. "But it's a proper portrait," he said. Gwen and Julia looked at each other but made no comment. "Why the tropical uniform?" was his next question. They explained, reluctantly because of the voyage's end, that Commander Purcell had been about to depart for the Far East with his ship at the time. Presumably Geoffrey sensed something was wrong for he changed the subject quickly, admiring instead the embroidery lying on a nearby chair. "Mother sews a lot," he said when Julia admitted that it was hers. "You ought to talk to her."
They liked having Geoffrey around. They could ask him questions they felt unable to ask of the other Mackenzies. Why was Antony educated at home, for instance, when his brothers had been sent away to school?
"He did go to school once, but he nearly died during his first term. Scarlet fever, it was. They had to pray for him in church, three Sundays running." Such a necessity was obviously a source of pride. "Father's taught him at home ever since. He's delicate, Mother says." Geoffrey admitted to being envious. "I hate school."
Julia found that hard to understand. She had been sorry to leave hers; she missed it still. Lying awake in bed she would sometimes picture herself returning to the familiar buildings, being greeted by Miranda Cartwright and welcomed by Miss Teasdale, the art mistress. Occasionally she dreamt of the old days, always waking afterwards with an oppressive sense of loss.
Geoffrey was happy at Hillcrest. "It's so comfortable, somehow," he said, as if the Rectory were not. He was toasting muffins at the time, kneeling up on the hearthrug. "Muffins come up on a special plate at home," he said, "with a silver cover like the dome of St. Paul's to keep them hot. They don't taste as nice somehow, if you haven't cooked them yourself. They aren't as hot either." His face was crimson from the heat of the fire. Julia wanted to draw him but was too shy to ask. It was Antony, told in confidence by Sarah, who blurted it out later.
Geoffrey thought Julia must be joking. "What do you want to draw me for?"
"I like drawing people. I always have. I've only got us now that we're come home. I persuaded Antony to pose once, but he was hopeless." It wasn't so much that Antony couldn't keep still, but that he would play the fool, waggling his fingers in his ears and sticking out his tongue. "Like this, Julia? Like this?" Sometimes she found twelve-year-old boys hard to understand.
"I don't mind you drawing me if you want to," Geoffrey said, "as long as I can see what you've done." He made no comment when she did so, favourable or otherwise. She suspected that he had expected a portrait like that of Commander Purcell and was disappointed.
"You have to look and watch first, and then do lots of sketches," she explained. "I'm not very good yet, so I just do quick drawings. I might try something formal in the summer, when I know you better."
The summer holidays seemed a long way off, with three months of the summer term lying between. When Geoffrey went back to school, Julia was surprised to discover that she missed him.
In the old days - before January - divisions in the Purcell family had been clear-cut. Frances was a member of the adult world; Julia and Gwen were children; Sarah was in the nursery. Things had changed since Mrs. Purcell's death. Julia no longer felt herself to be a child, but neither did she feel grown-up. Gwen took it for granted that Julia was her companion still; Frances expected her to be supporter and confidante. She did not know where her place lay. She felt that Geoffrey and she had family position as well as their age in common. She hid her insecurity better than he did, perhaps, but she sensed that they were much alike.
JULIA'S STORY: SISTERS OF THE QUANTOCK HILLS by Ruth Elwin Harris. Copyright (c) 1989 by Ruth Elwin Harris. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA.
Four independent-minded sisters come of age in the early 1900s - and four interwoven novels tell their stories, each through a different sister’s eyes.
The year is 1910, and the four Purcell sisters have only each other. Their mother has died, leaving them orphans in a rambling country estate. But with the help of the Mackenzies - their guardian and his family, whom the sisters come to love in very different ways - Sarah, Frances, Julia, and Gwen find the courage to follow their own paths in a world that is rapidly changing.
Avid readers and fans of historical-fiction classics will love these spirited heroines - named "the Little Women of our times" by the TIMES of London - and will be thoroughly absorbed by their intertwining tales, full of feistiness, creativity, and young romance.
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