by Henry Green
Edith turned away from her once more. 'O.K. let it pass,' she said.
'But surely you don't intend to permit that lad to go moonin' after you like a drowned duck?'
'Well what d'you want me to do then?' Edith asked her.
'You should've seen 'is face when you was leant over. It was enough to make me bring up my dinner. And you lookin' down into his eyes as though you liked it.'
'If he'd so much as touched me I'd've shown him dear I can tell you,' Edith said. 'I'd've given a lesson he'd remember all his life,' she added.
'Well if you want my advice that's what I'd learn the kid before this day is done.'
'Why,' asked Edith, 'you don't suppose I relish his goin' mushy surely? A child like that? He wants his old mother, that's his trouble. But live an' let live is what I always say.'
'Then don't you keep on about me and you know who,' Kate said.
'O K. dear. Now let's have a nap,' said Edith.
And in no time both were well away. The children got wet through.
Raunce's Albert crept back followed by the donkey that he could not rid himself of. He sat down by Edith. He never took his eyes off her body.
Edith found out that Agatha had a cup of tea most days with Mrs Welch. So she persuaded Miss Burch to put forward a claim to tea all round after dinner, a privilege not enjoyed by the others since before the war. Everyone was surprised when the cook agreed But that was not all. Edith feared for Raunce's neck. She said those draughts in the servant's hall might harm him. Now coal was so short it was only a small peat fire she could lay each morning in the butler's room, and she insisted that the grate Raunce had was too narrow for peat. This no doubt could be her excuse to get him to take his cup along with her to one of the living rooms where huge fires were kept stoked all day to condition the old masters.
So it came about next afternoon that Charley and Edith had drawn up deep leather armchairs of purple in the Red Library. A ledge of more purple leather on the fender supported Raunce's heels next his you-and-me in a gold Worcester cup and saucer. Pointed french windows were open onto the lawn about which peacocks stood pat in the dry as though enchanted. A light summer air played in from over massed geraniums, toyed with Edith's curls a trifle. Between the books the walls were covered cool in green silk. But she seemed to have no thought to the draught.
'You ever noticed that little place this side of the East Gate?' he was asking.
'Well I can't say I've looked over it if that's what you're after,' she replied. He hooked a finger into the bandage round his throat as though to ease himself.
'Next time you pass that way you have a look, see.'
'Why Charley?'
'It's empty that's why.'
'It's empty is it?' she echoed dull but with a sharp glance.
'The married butlers used to live there at one time,' he explained. Then he lied. 'Yesterday mornin',' he went on canny, 'Michael stopped me as he came out of the kitchen. You'll never guess what he was onto.'
'Not something for one of his family again?' she enquired.
'That's right,' he said. 'It was only he's goin' to ask Mrs. T. for it when she gets back, that's all. The roof of their pig sty of a hovel 'as gone an' fallen on 'is blessed sister-in-law's head and's crushed a finger of one of their kids.'
'The cheek,' she exclaimed.
'A horrid liar the man is,' Charley commented. 'But it's not the truth that matters. It's what's believed,' he added.
'You think she'll credit such a tale?' Edith wanted to know.
'Now love,' he began then paused. He was dressed in black trousers and a stiff shirt with no jacket, the only colour being in his footman's livery waistcoat of pink and white stripes. He wore no collar on account of his neck. Lying back he squinted into the blushing rose of that huge turf fire as it glowed, his bluer eye azure on which was a crescent rose reflection. 'Love,' he went on toneless, 'what about you an' me getting married? There I've said it.'
'That'll want thinking over Charley,' she replied at once Her eyes left his face and with what seemed a quadrupling in depth came following his to rest on those rectangles of warmth alive like blood. From this peat light her great eyes became invested with rose incandescence that was soft and soft and soft.
'There's none of this love nonsense,' he began again appearing to strain so as not to look at her. 'It's logical dear that's what. You see I thought to get my old mother over out of the bombers.'
'And quite right too,' she answered prompt.
'I'm glad you see it my way,' he took her up. 'Oh honey you don't know what that means.'
'I've always said a wife that can't make a home for her man's mother doesn't merit a place of her own,' she announced gentle.
'Then you don't say no?' he asked glancing her way at last His white face was shot with green from the lawn.
'I haven't said yes have I?' she countered and looked straight at him, her heart opening about her lips. Seated as she was back to the light he could see only a blinding space for her head framed in dark hair and inhabited by those great eyes on her, fathoms deep.
'No that's right,' he murmured obviously lost.
'I'll need to think over it,' she gently said. Folding hands she returned her gaze into the peat fire.
'She's a good woman,' Raunce began again. 'She worked hard to raise us when dad died. There were six in our family. She had a struggle.'
Edith sat on quiet.
'Now we're scattered all over,' he went on. 'There's only my sister Bell with the old lady these days. There's her to consider,' he said.
'The one working in the gun factory?' she asked.
'That's right,' he replied. Then he waited.
'Well I don't know as she'd need to come to Ireland,' Edith said at last. 'She's got her job all right? I'd hardly reckon to make the change myself if I was in her position.'
'You have it any way you want,' Raunce explained. 'I thought to just mention her that's all. Mrs Charley Raunce,' he announced in educated accents. 'There you are eh?' He seemed to be gathering confidence.
She suddenly got up half turned from him.
'I'm not sayin' one way or the other, Charley. Not yet awhile.'
'But it's not no for a start,' he said, also rising.
'No,' she replied. She began to blush. Seeing this he grinned with an absurd look of sweet pain. 'No,' she went on, 'I don't say I couldn't.' And all at once her mood appeared to change. She whirled about and made a dive at the cushion of the chair she had been using.
'What's more I'll wear this old ring for the engagement,' she crowed, 'oh let me it won't only be for a minute.' He approached doltish while she hooked with her finger in the tear. 'That's funny,' she said. 'Why it can't have,' she murmured. 'But it has,' she announced drawing herself up to look him in the face. 'It's gone,' she said.
'What's gone?'
'Mrs Tennant's ring,' she said.
'It can't have,' he objected. 'Give here,' and he took that cushion, ripped the seam open. 'Must've slipped inside that's about the long and short of it,' he said as he worked.
'I don't know about can't have gone,' she said looking intently at him with something in her voice, 'but it's not there that's all.'
He felt round the edges.
'You're right,' he pronounced, 'there's nothing.'
'Yet a ring wouldn't have wings now would it?' she said meaningly.
'Edie,' he said, 'if you think I took that you must consider me worse than the lowest thing which crawls.'
'No,' she murmured, 'I don't,' and leant over to give him a light kiss.
'Then you ain't never found nothing, see,' he said putting his arms round her. 'Oh honey...' he began when both heard a car turn towards the Castle over the ha-ha.
'Look sharp,' he brought out as if she had been kissing him. 'That must be Mrs Tancy,' he said and turned to go. 'Holy smoke,' he added, 'but I can't answer the door dressed as I am.' While Raunce hastened out she went on her knees it might be to make believe she was only in the
room to do the fire.
His training probably induced Charley to close the door soft after him and it was not until he had reached his quarters, when he was out of earshot, that he began to yell for Bert. So nobody saw this car drive up but Edith. She noted in it not the lady above referred to but a stranger, a man, a grey homburg hat.
His boy came running in a green baize apron. At that moment the bell rang. 'The front door,' Raunce said as the indicator chocked, 'I'm wrongly dressed. Put 'er in the Red Library an' don't leave till I come or something might go missing. Not like that,' he almost shouted as Albert made off tied in green, 'let's 'ave that down,' he cried as he twitched at the bow it was knotted with, 'an' where's your jacket?' Raunce got the lad away at last discreetly clad, calling out to him, 'I won't be a minute while I dress.'
So it was Albert received Michael Mathewson at the entrance, who took this man's business card when he asked for Mrs Tennant. The lad held it upsidedown. In consequence he could not read the name or the line in Irish below, underneath which came a translation between brackets which went, 'Irish Regina Assurance.' There was finally a Dublin address in the right-hand corner.
'This way please,' Albert said the way he had been taught. He led the man over the chequered marble floor. Mike Mathewson followed fat and short and bald with blue spats.
'That's to say they're not here,' the boy piped over his shoulder.
'It'th O.K. thon,' Mike lisped.
So it was Albert showed him in where Edith was still on her knees after a proposal of marriage, as if tidying. As Mathewson passed Albert probably remembered twice for he sang out again. 'This way please.'
'Thankth thon,' the man replied. Edith turned away from them and began a fit of giggling.
'Nithe plathe you've got,' he remarked bright in her direction. Albert closed the door gently, stood so it seemed unobserved and ill at ease. He licked a palm of his hand then smarmed his yellow hair.
'The familieth away?' Mr Mathewson enquired picking up the paper-knife with the agate handle.
'Yes sir,' Edith made answer She looked for a second time full at him seriously with her raving beauty.
'That'th all right girlie,' he brought out and goggled a trifle. Then he put that paper-knife down. He came near.
'I'll do thomething for you,' he announced soft, 'I'll put you in the way to make a fool out of Mike. That'th me. There'th my bithneth card he holdth. It'th thith way. We'll maybe have a little bet on thith. I'll wager thixpenth you can never gueth my bithneth.'
On this she rose to her feet, back to the fire. Her eyes were large as she smoothed her dress. He turned round as though to give her time.
'You're in on thith thon,' he called urgent, soft, but the lad made no move.
'It's Mr Raunce you want,' she interrupted.
'That'th all right,' he answered, 'I'm not thelling anything. I gave up thelling when trade got thlack. I'm an enquiry agent,' he brought out sharp, turning to her close.
'What?' she muttered and began to blush.
'Yeth that'th a thurprithe ain't it,' he went on seemingly delighted.
'Now you'd never have guethed ith'nt that right without you'd theen my bithneth card. Mike Mathewthonth the name. Jutht had a tooth out that'th why I thpeak like thith,' he excused then laid a hand genteel across his mouth. He took it away at once to finger the spotted tie. He was now very near indeed. He smelled of acid of violets.
'I come down when they claim a loss,' he brought out sharp, not lisping.
'Oh,' she said faint.
'I reprethent the Inthuranth Company,' he explained again.
At this precise moment out by the dovecote little Albert was with Mrs Jack's little girls. He knelt down while Miss Evelyn and Miss Moira stood dappled by leaf sunshine. The lad himself was shaded by that pierced tower of Pisa inside which a hundred ruby eyes were round.
'You're not ever goin' to bury it Bert?' Miss Evelyn enquired.
'Naw,' he replied picking up half an empty eggshell.
The sisters squatted. Opening his fist he displayed the ring, a small blaze of blue. He scooped it into that eggshell which he then placed with the unbroken end upwards, a pale bell over the jewel, under a tuft of sharp grass.
'You won't leave that out in the open?' Miss Moira asked.
'It's on account of them birds pinch rings,' he answered. 'If Mr Raunce come to find'm then we don't know a thing, the pigeons took'm see.'
'But doves don't steal rings Albert, you mean jackdaws.'
'Don't be so soft,' he said. 'Everyone knows doves will,' he ended.
'You'll lose it,' Miss Evelyn announced wondering.
'Rings don't walk,' he said, 'an' this shell's so them birds won't rout'm out,' he explained. 'They'd never think to turn an egg that's broken.'
'Well you are clever,' Miss Moira told him and meant it.
'I'm smart don't fear,' he said, 'only I didn't ought to let you girls in on this. You'd never keep a secret. So you'll 'ave to take a oath see.'
'An oath?'
'That's right. You're to swear you won't never tell. It'll be special. This is 'ow it goes. While I break a cock's egg over your mouth you say, "My lips is sealed may I drop dead."'
'Cock's eggs?'
'Peacock's softy. I'll fetch me a couple.' As he ran off to that door he had seen Raunce come out of an another occasion he called back as he stumbled with urgency, 'Don't you stir from where you be.' He had picked up countrified expressions when he was evacuated.
'Well it's wicked I know,' Miss Moira said with satisfaction.
'How will you swear so the egg doesn't get in your mouth?' Miss Evelyn asked.
But they waited. In almost no time the lad was back. Then one of the girls objected. She said she wasn't going to stand for having that filthy sticky stuff on her face. The other wanted to know who she considered she was to think she couldn't, when Edith had hundreds of these eggs put away in waterglass against the time she might want them for her skin. And little Albert heard. And then made them both go through with it. They seemed delighted.
Meantime the assessor had been asking questions. Edith did not know so she said. Or she could not tell for certain she was sure. Mike Mathewson was getting nowhere. Albert kept silence. Then Raunce at last arrived, in his dark suit and without the bandage. He came quiet and Mike Mathewson did not hear him. He had to clear his throat to make this man turn round.
'Yes sir?' Charley asked.
'That'th all right my man,' Mike answered. 'Making a few en-quirieth that'th all.'
It might have been Raunce thought Edith looked upset. Not moving from the door he took a line.
'I'm sure Mrs Tennant would not wish for questions asked,' he said.
'Precithely why I wath thent,' Mr Mathewson replied, a green high light following out his nose.
'I'm afraid we can't have this,' Charley said firm. 'Mrs Tennant would never allow it.'
'Is it so?' Mike said grim, not lisping.
'I will have to ask you to leave that's all,' Charley went on and did not call him sir.
'But I have been thent.'
'Who by?'
Then Edith must have forgot herself. She interrupted.
'It's about the ring,' she said in a small voice.
'What ring?' Raunce wanted to know without a sign of any kind.
'Let'th thee,' Mike suggested. 'When Mr Tennant wath alive you uthed to be hith man I take it.'
'No I was not.'
'And you never heard of a ring being gone?' Mike asked in menacing fashion.
' 'Ow d'you mean?' Raunce enquired in a less educated voice.
That'th thtrange,' Mathewson said almost genial, 'nobody theemth to know nothing.'
'What's strange about that?' Charley asked and began to squint. 'Come on you tell me. Who might you be for a start?'
'You're the butler?'
'What's that got to do with you? It's you we're talkin' about. Who're you?'
Edith broke in again.
'He's come about the ins
urance,' she explained and appealed.
'Nobody asked you,' her Charley said sharp but with a soft glance in her direction. 'You don't know nothing,' he added.
'Know nothing?' Mr Mathewson echoed. 'Mark what I'm thaying now. I never inthinuated thith young lady knew anything.' He spoke gently as if to ingratiate.
'In – what?' Charley asked.
'Inferred,' Mike Mathewson explained and now he spoke sharp. 'Don't try and be thmart with me. You'll find it don't work.'
'I wouldn't know what you're referrin' to,' Raunce said a bit daunted.
'The ring,' the assessor replied soft. 'The thapphire cluthter my company inthured on.'
'Is Mrs Tennant acquainted with you?' Raunce asked.
'She called us in,' the man said very sharp, again without lisping. 'Now is that sufficient?'
'She called you in?' Raunce echoed.
'You do know about the ring then?'
'Know about it? I've 'eard Mrs Tennant mislaid one.'
'Then why tell me jutht now you never did,' Mike asked him very quiet.
Raunce began to bluster. 'Me?' he cried, 'me tell you that? I never made any such statement and this girl and my lad here's my witnesses. What I very likely said was I didn't know your business an' I say I don't know it now any more than I did at the start. There you are.' He glanced as though for support at Edith. She was gazing at the seat of the armchair. She seemed distracted.
'Will you anthwer a fair quethtion?' Mr Mathewson began again. 'That'th above board ain't it?' he said almost friendly.
'Reply to a question? Well I don't know before you ask me do I?' Raunce replied.
'Then you won't anthwer?'
'I never said that. What are you tryin'? To trap someone?'
'Who mentioned a trap? I'm here to trathe a ring.'
'What's that got to do with me?' Raunce enquired.
'I don't know yet,' Mike replied gentle.
'Well get this then. I don't know nothin' an' I'm not sayin' nothin' without Mrs Tennant gives permission. So now have you got that straight?'
They stared at each other. Edith went down on her knees again. She began to polish the bright steel fire irons with a leather. Catching Charley's eye behind Mike's back she shook her head urgent at him. Albert stood as though transfixed.