Page 30 of The Sisters of Sea View
“Emily!” Sarah protested on a laugh.
Emily widened innocent eyes. “Only ideas.”
That afternoon, Sarah opened the door to another arriving guest. In the threshold, she drew up short, disconcerted to see the man wore dark glasses or “eye shades” and to realize, by his probing use of a walking stick, that he was blind. He’d not mentioned it in his letter when he’d written to reserve a room for two. But then, why should he?
“Mr. Hornbeam?” she asked.
“Yes.” He raised a hand in her general direction and walked carefully up the path.
Puggy Smith, behind him, carried his valise. “That’s it, sir,” the lad directed. “Straight ahead.”
As the man of about sixty neared, Sarah greeted him, hoping to guide him with her voice. “Welcome to Sea View. I am Miss Sarah Summers. You will meet my sisters during your stay.” Recalling the man’s letter, she asked, “Is your son not with you?”
Emotion creased the man’s face, but a moment later his expression cleared. “Had to postpone his trip. He will join me in a day or two, I hope.”
“I am sorry to hear it.”
At the door, he gave Puggy a coin. The lad thanked him and left.
Sarah wished they had another bedchamber on the main level to offer him. She had considered converting the small parlour into an additional guest room and now regretted not following through with that idea.
Sarah said, “Is a flight of stairs going to be a problem? If so, perhaps I might—”
“No problem at all,” he assured her, adding on a laugh, “assuming there is a handrail! Just get me started in the right direction.”
Sarah hesitated, then asked, “May I ... take your arm to assist you?” She was not sure if such an offer would be welcome or offensive.
He nodded. “Thank you.”
She took his arm and led him first into the office.
Thinking quickly, she said, “I can fill in your details from your letter, but—”
“Need me to sign anything? Just show me where.”
She opened the register and pointed to the spot, only to realize he couldn’t see her do so.
“Just place the quill where you want me to sign,” he said, “and I will take it from there.”
On the high back of the library desk, she positioned the book and pen, and he signed quite legibly. After she had given him the necessary details, she led him to the bottom of the stairs. “Here is the handrail. I will let you go first.”
He did so. Rail in one hand, idle cane in the other, he moved steadily up the stairs.
“Your room is to the right.”
He turned in that direction and, employing his stick again, walked along the corridor.
She said, “The water closet is on the left, just there.”
He reached out a hand and felt for the door latch.
“And your room is straight ahead.” Nearing it, Sarah reached past him and opened the door. Inside, she led him to the room’s pair of armchairs and described the location of the two beds, washstand, and wardrobe.
He said, “Once I get my bearings, I will get about quite well on my own, but I do appreciate your patient help.”
“My pleasure. Anything else you need, please do not hesitate to let me or one of my sisters know. We do not serve a formal middaymeal, but we do offer tea and sandwiches in the afternoons, if you are hungry.”
“Thank you.”
