‘Reasons!’ echoed Barbie. ‘Reasons why he should leave his beloved Underwoods to me – and not to his own son!’
‘You were like his own daughter.’
‘Oh, I know – and I adored Uncle Ned – but – but –’
Amalie sat down upon the corner of a nearby frame. She seemed to have some difficulty in explaining. ‘I didn’t want Ned to do it,’ she admitted. ‘In fact I did all that I could to persuade him not to. Edward was his own son and Underwoods should have been left to him. But there were reasons.’
‘What sort of reasons?’
‘It was when Edward was at Oxford. He got in with rather an odd crowd of young men. They had queer ideas about property. They thought people shouldn’t own land. I don’t think any of them owned land,’ said Amalie with a little smile. ‘So you couldn’t blame them, really. Edward came home with his head full of the idea that land should be free. Young men get carried away by ideas.’
‘Yes, but Edward –’
‘Oh, with Edward it was just a phase. I never attached much importance to it, but Ned was rather upset. As a matter of fact I was right and Edward got over it quite soon. It was like chickenpox or measles – or any other childish complaint – but in the meantime Ned had altered his Will and left Underwoods in trust. It’s mine as long as I live and then it goes to you.’
‘Then it shouldn’t come to me!’ cried Barbie. ‘It was all a mistake. If Uncle Ned had known that Edward’s views had changed he would have left it to him – not me at all.’
‘Perhaps – or perhaps not. We don’t know, do we?’
‘Darling, we do know! Edward is terribly fond of Underwoods. He wouldn’t dream of –’
‘Underwoods is to be yours,’ said Amalie firmly. ‘Ned wanted you to have it. As a matter of fact I remember him saying at the time that it was better that way. I believe he might have left it to you even if Edward hadn’t got those rather silly ideas. Ned had a theory that property is safer in a woman’s possession.’
‘Safer?’
Amalie nodded. ‘He used to say “a home is more important to a woman than it is to a man.” ’
‘That’s true.’
‘Of course it’s true. A woman’s home and children are the most important things in her life. Men don’t grow roots in the same way. They’re more vagrant. Even when people lived in caves the men went out hunting and the women stayed at home.’
Barbie smiled. It seemed funny to compare Underwoods to a prehistoric cave but all the same she saw the point. Human nature had not changed very much in its essentials.
‘It’s different if a place has belonged to one family for generations,’ continued Amalie. ‘But in that case it is usually entailed. Underwoods isn’t entailed; if it belonged to Edward he could sell it.’
‘He wouldn’t want to!’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Amalie thoughtfully. ‘Edward has a roving nature.’
‘But that’s all over,’ Barbie declared. ‘He’s settled now and very interested in his new job. He said so himself.’
Amalie smiled at her vehemence. ‘Oh, don’t think I’m blaming Edward. I don’t blame him in the least. It’s natural and right for young men to be adventurous. There never would have been a British Empire if our young men had been content to settle down at home and not gone out to other lands to seek their fortunes. Of course it’s the fashion nowadays to sneer at the British Empire – but what would the world be like today if there never had been a British Empire?’
‘A good deal less civilised for one thing,’ said Barbie after a few moments’ thought.
‘Yes,’ agreed Amalie. ‘It’s an interesting speculation.’ She laughed and added, ‘I once asked a very clever young man (one of Edward’s Oxford friends who thought he knew everything) what the world would be like today if there never had been a British Empire, and it sort of dried him up. He just gulped and said it was an interesting speculation.’
‘I must remember that; it might be useful,’ said Barbie.
‘You must remember to look rather stupid when you put the question,’ Amalie told her. ‘I mean you must look as if you were terribly anxious to know. It works much better that way.’
Barbie said she would remember to look stupid – and they both laughed.
They had strayed quite a long way from Underwoods, but they had not forgotten the matter. It was in both their minds. So when Barbie frowned and said: ‘What does Edward think about it?’ Amalie was aware that she was not referring to the British Empire.
‘He doesn’t know,’ replied Amalie quickly. ‘I’ve never told him. There’s no need for him to know.’
‘I think he should be told.’
‘No,’ said Amalie firmly. She hesitated and then added, ‘I’m quite sure it’s better that Edward shouldn’t know – in the meantime. I’ve thought about it a great deal, weighing up one thing against another, and I’m quite sure I’m right.’
‘Why?’ asked Barbie.
Amalie did not reply to the question. She said, ‘Don’t worry, dear pet. Edward will have money. He can buy a house if he wants to. It’s all for the best. Just be happy about it and remember that Ned wanted you to have Underwoods – and I want you to have it when I’m gone.’
‘Darling!’ exclaimed Barbie. ‘Oh goodness, I don’t know what to say! I hope it will be a hundred years before – before –’
‘Well, I don’t,’ said Amalie laughing. ‘I’ve no wish to emulate Methuselah.’
CHAPTER SIX
Underwoods had been a house of women, and the advent of a man changed the atmosphere completely. The three women had been very happy together, but the male element was stimulating and life took on an added flavour. It was extremely pleasant – Barbie discovered – to hear a man’s voice. She had not heard a man’s voice for months (except doctors’ voices inquiring about her symptoms, which didn’t really count).
At dinner that night they were very gay. It was a ‘party.’ The food was excellent, Aunt Amalie had opened a bottle of hock and they had all dressed up for the occasion. It was the first time since her illness that Barbie had put on a pretty frock and she felt that she looked her best – which is always a pleasant feeling. They talked and laughed. Edward told them what he had been doing; it was mostly about his job but he made it entertaining. He told them about his Service Flat and the woman who came in and ‘did’ for him; he told them about a sale of furniture which he had attended with the object of buying a coal-scuttle and his subsequent discovery that he had bought two candlesticks and a picture by mistake.
It was part of Edward’s charm that he noticed things. He noticed Barbie’s frock and told her that the colour brought out the golden lights in her hair; he enjoyed the food which Penney had cooked, and complimented her on her skill, and added laughingly that if she ever found herself out of a job he would engage her at a fabulous salary; and he noticed a very lovely emerald ring which Amalie was wearing.
‘I haven’t seen that before,’ said Edward.
‘It’s been in the bank,’ explained Amalie. ‘I was looking over some things in the bank and I decided to get it out and wear it occasionally. Ned gave it to me,’ she added, taking it off and passing it round the table.
They all looked at it and admired it.
‘It’s a beautiful stone,’ declared Edward. ‘Father knew all about stones, didn’t he? But look! It’s a bit loose in its setting. You ought to have that put right, Amie, dear.’ (He had always called her Amie. It was a childish mixture of Mummy and Amalie and had solved one of the problems of a step-mother. Pronounced as Edward pronounced it, in the French manner, the little name meant ‘friend,’ and that was exactly what Amalie had always tried to be to her little step-son.)
Barbie examined the ring and saw that one of the little claws which held the stone was broken. ‘It’s just as well you noticed it,’ she said.
‘It wants cleaning too,’ declared Edward. ‘If you like I’ll take it with me on Monday when I go back to town and ge
t it put right.’
‘I wish you would, if it isn’t a bother,’ said Amalie.
It was no bother to Edward; he liked doing things for people. So the little white case which belonged to the ring was fetched from Amalie’s bedroom and Edward put it away carefully in his pocket.
Barbie had been almost afraid to meet Edward, for in spite of what Aunt Amalie had said she was not happy about Underwoods and still felt she was defrauding Edward of his rights. It would not have been so bad if Edward had known – but he did not know, and she had no idea what he would feel about it. Barbie liked everything fair and square. She liked to know where she stood. She felt she was meeting Edward on false pretences. Of course she could do nothing about it (for Aunt Amalie had said ‘No,’ quite firmly) but the feeling that she was defrauding Edward made her especially kind to him that evening.
At nine o’clock Penney hauled her off to bed and Edward was left to chat to his step-mother in the drawing-room.
‘She’s lovely,’ said Edward after a short silence.
‘Yes, she is,’ agreed Amalie. ‘Barbie always was lovely.’
‘I mean she’s lovelier. She used to be a little too fat,’ said Edward. ‘It suits her to be slender. Oh, of course she was always a dear pet, and very good fun, but there was something a little off-putting about her.’
‘Whatever do you mean?’
‘Difficult to explain – exactly,’ said Edward thoughtfully. ‘She used to be a bit too sure of herself; she liked to run things and thought she knew better than anyone else. There’s a new softness and gentleness about her.’
It was true, thought Amalie. Barbie had changed since her illness and had become more gentle … and, now that she was not so plump, she was almost beautiful. There was something very beautiful about the way her eyes were set and their constantly changing expression. Barbie’s eyes could laugh when the rest of her face was sober; they could sparkle with anger or melt in softness. Her lashes were thick and soft; a deep copper-brown which was just a little darker than her hair. Her eyes were grey-green and bright like running water.
‘Of course I haven’t seen her for ages,’ continued Edward. ‘I’ve always been fond of Barbie, but I had forgotten what an attractive creature she is.’
‘I’ve often wondered why you don’t see each other more often,’ Amalie said. ‘You used to be great friends when you were children.’
‘We still are!’ exclaimed Edward. He paused for a moment and then added, ‘Of course I know what you mean. It’s my fault that we haven’t seen more of each other. I couldn’t see her while I was in South Africa but I ought to have looked her up when I got back. I meant to, but I never seemed to have time. I was busy settling in to the office and learning the ropes … and London is such a big place. You’re apt to get in with a set of people and go round with them. It’s a constant whirl. You never have time to see other people – outside your own particular set.’
‘It seems a pity,’ said Amalie.
‘Yes. Yes, it is,’ agreed Edward. ‘We must meet in London. She might like to go to some dances. Meantime I shall be able to come down here for week-ends. Is Barbie going to be here long?’
‘As long as I can keep her,’ said Amalie smiling to herself.
Meanwhile Barbie had gone to bed and Penney was putting things ready for the night.
‘I shall have to get out of my invalid ways,’ said Barbie watching the usual preparations.
‘Gradually,’ agreed Penney. ‘There’s no hurry; you’re still far from strong. For instance you’re very tired tonight.’
She was tired – too tired to sleep – and there was a great deal to think about which did not help matters. First of all there was Edward. It was so long since she had seen him that she had forgotten how attractive he was … or perhaps he was more attractive now than he had been in the past. We must ask him to the flat, she decided. I wonder what Nell would think of Edward … and what he would think of Nell. It would be fun if they fell for each other … Edward has much more in him than all those silly boys who trail after her … and he’s very eligible.
Thinking of all this made her think of Underwoods, which was to belong to her in the dim and distant future – to her and not to Edward. She had been so upset at the idea that she had wondered if she could give the place to Edward when the time came, but now she began to realise that it would not be right. Uncle Ned was wise and kind; he had wanted her to have his beloved Underwoods, to make it her home and keep it as it should be kept. (She wondered if he had left her any money for its upkeep – if not it would be difficult – but probably he had done so, for he was a sensible man.) This being so she must accept the responsibility and enjoy it and be happy about it – as Aunt Amalie had said. Barbie went on thinking about the future: perhaps she would marry and have children and bring them up here, in these lovely surroundings. They would play in the garden and in the woods and they would climb the trees and run along the top of the wall. Curiously enough Barbie’s future husband was nebulous but her children seemed quite real: a girl and a boy with fair hair – not red – and blue eyes. I’ll get them a donkey, thought Barbie. He must be called Amos.
It was her last thought before she went to sleep.
There was a very good golf course at Shepherdsford, and on Saturday morning Edward went off with his clubs saying he wanted some exercise and fresh air. He would be sure to find somebody who wanted a game. He would lunch at the club and be back about five if that would suit Amie.
It suited very well.
The house seemed quiet after Edward’s departure – at least it seemed quiet to Barbie – but soon after he had gone Mrs Mainwaring dropped in to see Aunt Amalie and to chat about her daughter’s wedding which was to take place quite soon. The Mainwarings lived at Melville Manor about two miles the other side of Shepherdsford; they were near neighbours and had been friends for many years. Of course Barbie had known Elsie Mainwaring when they were both children but she had not seen much of her since.
‘You must meet Elsie, now that you’re better,’ said Mrs Mainwaring. ‘You must come over to lunch one day and see all her presents – and of course you must come to the wedding. It was meant to be a quiet wedding but it has grown and grown. George says we must have a marquee in the garden.’
‘You’ll have to,’ declared Amalie. ‘You could never get all those people into your house. Have you fixed up about the catering?’
Barbie left them talking and went to find Penney, who was in the kitchen preparing delectable food. She was beating up white of egg and on the table beside her were several large oranges and a pile of castor sugar.
‘Orange meringues!’ exclaimed Barbie in delight.
‘Yes,’ nodded Penney. ‘We had them last time Mr Steyne was here and he liked them. Did you want me for something?’
‘Just to talk to, that’s all. Aunt Amalie and Mrs Mainwaring were talking about The Wedding – and I was bored. I wonder what Elsie is like now. She was a silly child so I expect she’s a silly young woman.’
‘She’s very pretty,’ said Penney. ‘Not as pretty as Miss Babbington but much the same colouring.’
‘Nell is pretty, isn’t she?’
‘I think she’s beautiful,’ said Penney simply.
‘Go on,’ said Barbie smiling encouragingly. ‘You were going to say more and then you stopped.’
‘It was silly, really; I was going to say she reminded me of Sweet Nell of Old Drury – pretty, witty Nell – but how could she?’
‘It’s the association of ideas,’ Barbie pointed out. ‘Nell, Covent Garden and oranges … and Charles falling for her in a big way. People are always falling for Nell in a big way.’
‘I don’t blame Charles if she was like that,’ said Penney beating furiously.
‘You do talk funny,’ said Daphne the Daily who had come into the kitchen for her elevenses. ‘It beats me ’ow you know what each other means. Are you ’aving a cuppa, Miss Barbie?’
Barbie said she would. She
sat down at the kitchen table and shared a pot of dark brown tea with Daphne. Penney, who liked her tea very weak, took one look at the brew, and said she wouldn’t bother – she must finish making her meringues.
‘You’re missing something,’ declared Barbie, putting her elbows on the table and sipping with obvious enjoyment. ‘This is what I call tea, Penney. It’s got body.’
Daphne was still brooding over the conversation which she had overheard. ‘It beats me ’ow you know what each other means,’ she repeated. ‘I s’pose it’s edjucation. I never ’ad edjucation – didn’t want it then but I’m sorry now. I get books from the lib’ry, but there’s lots in them I can’t make ’ead or tail of. Gets my goat sometimes.’
‘You went to school, didn’t you?’ asked Barbie, who was vitally interested in the affairs of her fellow human beings.
‘Only when I ’a[[illegible]] to,’ admitted Daphne. ‘There was six at ’ome, all younger than me, and I liked ’elping. Besides school doesn’t teach you things like I mean. It’s edjucation does that.’
Barbie pondered the matter. It was a curious point of view and she could not make up her mind whether there was anything in it – or not. Could you go to school, and learn what they taught you, and yet not be ‘edjucated’ sufficiently to understand books out of the ‘lib’ry’?
Meanwhile Daphne was swilling the dregs of her tea into the slop-basin and examining the residue of tea-leaves in her cup.
‘Ow!’ she exclaimed. ‘That’s a fish, that is. Means a letter coming from overseas! That’s a ring at the bottom – the only ring I’m likely to get is the door-bell – but it ain’t no fun reading your own,’ added Daphne meaningly.
‘Who taught you?’ asked Barbie, swilling out her cup and passing it across the table to be read.
‘My grannie. She could tell you! It made your ’air curl the things she told you – knew all the patter, she did! I can’t do it proper.’ Daphne took the cup and added, ‘It’s just fun, you know, Miss Barbie.’
Barbie agreed it was ‘just fun’ and promised not to be unduly elated nor depressed when she heard her fortune. After this somewhat unpromising opening she did not expect much from Daphne and was somewhat surprised at the result, for Daphne was quite an impressive seer and it was obvious she had had a lot of practice.
The Tall Stranger Page 5