by Sara Seale
But she was not quite ready to face the solitude of her own thoughts.
“Let’s go to the kitchen and make tea,” she said.
He looked at her with understanding.
“Very well,” he said, “only we must be quiet or we’ll have the household thinking we’re burglars.”
She made the tea, waiting on him with attentive politeness, then she fetched her own cup and sat on a milking-stool close to the fender. Both their faces were in shadow, for the hurricane lamp threw only a small circle of light in the big kitchen, and she was quiet for so long that he asked her what she was thinking about.
“Oh, people—and what you said about quarrelling,” she replied. “You never quarrel with anyone, Mark.”
“You and I have had one or two scraps since I came.”
“Yes, but that’s different. I quarrelled with you. You don’t ever lose your temper.”
“No, not very often. The English are a phlegmatic race.”
“Now you’re laughing at me. I don’t think I know you at all well, Mark. Were you—do you mind me asking—did you care a great deal about that girl—the one who was killed?”
He was silent for so long that she said, a little apologetically:
“Kilmallin told me, or I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“No, I don’t mind you asking at all,” he said then. “I was wondering how to answer you. If I say I thought I cared very much at the time, but now I have no regrets except for the waste of a life, you will think me unfeeling, and if I say that this was the love of my life and I shall never care as much again, that wouldn’t be true, either.”
“Could you try and explain, please?”
He had never discussed his affairs with her, and he had never found it easy to speak of Anne to anyone, but suddenly her own need for comfort and reassurance made it quite simple for him to talk to her.
She listened intently without interrupting, and as he talked, the new picture of him which had slowly been clarifying for her ever since she had fallen off her bicycle and hurt her arm took shape, and she saw him, not just as the English tutor who did not propose to stand any nonsense, but also as a man of great integrity and kindness, with an infinite capacity for understanding.
She put down her empty cup and, kneeling on the floor beside him, placed her clasped hands on his knee.
“Ah, Mark, she wasn’t right for you,” she said, her voice soft and strongly Irish as it became when she was moved.
“No,” he said. “I don’t think we were right for each other. You see, Clancy, we never quarrelled.”
“One day,” she said, “you’ll meet someone who is right, and then you’ll marry without waiting, like she made you.”
“Perhaps,” he said, and getting up abruptly, pulled her to her feet. “And now it’s high time we broke up the party. I can’t think what any respectable household would think of a tutor who indulged in midnight orgies with his pupils.” He took her face between his hands.” Good night, my dear,” he said. “May your next birthday be happier for you.”
Her eyes widened.
“Next birthday,” she said. “But you may not be here—Mark, you may not be here.”
His smile was reassuring.
“One thing at a time. Next birthday’s a long way off. Good night,” he said again, and stooped and gently kissed her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CLODAGH returned to Dublin the next morning. She said that now the cat was out of the bag she must gird up her loins and tackle her mother. Conn came to fetch her and take her to the train, and Clancy stood on the front steps to see them off.
Clodagh gave Clancy a hug.
“You don’t really mind, do you, Clancy?” she whispered.
“Why should I mind?” Clancy asked with dignity.
Clodagh’s round kitten eyes pleaded for approval.
“I don’t know why you should. After all, it will still be the three of us just the same, only better really, because we’ll all be cousins now, at least I mean Conn will be your cousin and we shall keep him in the family.”
“Yes,” said Clancy.
“And you mustn’t mind about the farm,” Clodagh rattled on. “I expect you’ll miss popping over to Slievaun at first— after all it does give you a break from the Lord Protector—but we’ll be able to come and stay at Kilmallin when we’re married, and that will be much more fun.”
“Yes,” said Clancy again. “You’ll miss the train if you don’t hurry, Clodagh. Conn’s hooting.”
“Oh, bother the train! Well, good-bye, darling. I’m sorry if I spoilt your birthday, but I didn’t mean to, and you looked lovely in the frock. Look after Conn for me while I’m gone, and tell that superior tutor of yours I didn’t say good-bye because I think he’s very disagreeable. All right, Conn, I’m coming!”
For the first few days Clancy seemed listless and inclined to be quarrelsome with Mark, whose apparently effortless return to their old relationship both piqued and hurt her. What had been the good, she thought angrily, of that strange new intimacy between them if he was going to persist in treating her just as a pupil.
Mark’s own motives, had she guessed them, were mixed. He wisely and quite honestly did not wish to encourage self-pity by treating her with too much consideration, and he was not ready, as yet, to face up to his own changing feelings for his pupil. He believed, out of his own experience, that work was the best antidote to a troubled spirit, and he saw to it that Clancy’s days were full and her mind well occupied.
It was at the beginning of the following week that, without any warning, Aunt Kate descended on Kilmallin.
“Kate, dear,” Aunt Bea greeted her faintly, “why didn’t you let us know you were coming?”
Kate Desmond was a big, handsome woman, very like her brother, and she possessed the assured manner of one who has had things her own way all her life.
“Because,” she said in a rich, decisive voice, “if I had, your impossible brother would have found some excuse to put me off.”
“Well, dear, he’s your brother, too,” said Aunt Bea reasonably. “And, Kate, Kevin hasn’t been well, lately. Doctor Boyle says we mustn’t get him excited.”
“Fiddlesticks!” Mrs. Desmond snapped. “He just can’t keep off the drink. Clodagh told me all about it. I’ve come to speak my mind, and speak it I intend to. Encouraging my child in an affair with a good-for-nothing hobbledy-hoy when he should have packed her off home at once!”
“We’re all very fond of Conn,” said Aunt Bea, and her sister snorted.
“I’ve no doubt he would have done very well for Clancy,” she said, and at that moment Kevin came in, a gun under his arm.
“Who would do very well for Clancy?” he asked, then suddenly saw his married sister. “Good gosh! What are you here for, Kate?”
“How do you do, Kevin? What do you suppose I’m here for? To thank you for finding me such a presentable son-in-law?”
“Och, what’s wrong with the boy? Not grand enough for you, I suppose.”
“Well, really, Kevin! I’ve nothing personally against the boy, but after all the money that’s been spent on Clodagh’s education and bringing her out, I think we have a right to look a little higher for a husband for her.”
“Your daughter is like you, Kate, me dear,” chuckled Kevin, “and you’ve brought her up to have her own way, and shell have it despite you, good luck to her.”
Mrs. Desmond’s eyes flashed.
“It’s easy for you to talk,” she said. ‘You’ve never spent an unnecessary penny piece on your own daughter, so you’ve no reason to expect much in the way of a husband for her. In fact, I always thought you and Bea had this very young man in mind for her.”
“Yes, I used to think—” began Aunt Bea, looking harried, but Kevin broke in with dangerous calm.
“So you think Conn Driscoll would have done for Clancy?”
“Yes, certainly. I was just telling Bea so when you came in.”
Kevin exploded.
“So he’s good enough for an O’Shane but not for a Desmond, is that it?”
“Kevin, don’t excite yourself,” said Aunt Bea.
“Be quiet, Bea,” said her sister. “Now, Kevin, don’t let’s have family unpleasantness.”
“Family unpleasantness!” roared Kevin, and his fingers stroked his gun as if they itched to use it. “You come here uninvited and stir up ail the unpleasantness you can find and then have the nerve to stand there and tell me let’s not have family unpleasantness. What have you come here for except to make a row?”
“I wish you’d put that gun down, Kevin. I came because I feel very strongly that you went behind my back and didn’t warn me what was going on. You’ve all deceived me, including my own daughter, with her silly talk of this English tutor you have here, but I’m a modern mother, and I thought at least she’d be safe here under my own brother’s roof.”
“Are you trying to tell me now , that your daughter has been having an affair with my tutor?” Kevin’s eyes bulged.
“You know perfectly well I’m not, though I shouldn’t be surprised if there’s been a mild flirtation going on. Clodagh is very attractive, and I understand this Englishman, who intend to have a word with before I go, is quite passable. He at least, I should have thought, could have kept an eye on Clodagh. That’s what he’s paid for.”
“My tutor is paid to take charge of my children, not your daughter’s morals,” roared Kevin.
It was at this point that Brian, who had been hanging over the banisters listening, went back to the schoolroom to report.
“There’s a most awful row going on,” he announced gleefully, “and Aunt Kate is saying funny things about Mark, and Kilmallin’s just said that Mark wasn’t paid to look after Clodagh’s morals. What do you suppose that means?”
“Come and sit down, Brian,” said Mark impassively. “You shouldn’t listen to other people’s conversations.”
“No one could help hearing,” said Brian. “They’re yelling all over the house. Kilmallin’s furious because Aunt Kate said Conn was good enough for Clancy but not for Clodagh.”
“How dare she!” exclaimed Clancy. “Conn’s good enough for anyone. I must go and hear some more.”
“Clancy, sit down!” ordered Mark, in no uncertain tones. “And you really must not refer to your aunt or anyone else in those terms.”
“Mark,” said Clancy, “do you suppose Aunt Kate could stop them marrying?”
“I shouldn’t think so,” he replied. “Your cousin’s of age. Get on with your work, please.”
But they were interrupted after all. The door opened abruptly and Aunt Bea’s flustered face looked round it.
“Mark, would you come at once, please?” she said. “Kevin’s had another attack, and I want to get my sister out of the room. She worries him.”
Mark told Brian and Clancy to remain where they were and hurried down to the library. With tact and firmness he managed to get rid of Mrs. Desmond, while Aunt Bea administered the drops which the doctor had left for such an emergency. The attack was a slight one and Kevin was soon demanding a drink.
Mark fetched the decanter and a glass and placed them within his reach. As Doctor Boyle had said, a man’s life is his own, and Mark had no authority to lock up the drink.
On the way up to the schoolroom he met Clancy flying down.
“Steady!” he said, catching her. “Where are you going?”
“To my father—to Kilmallin. You didn’t really think I’d stop up there, did you?” she said.
“Yes, Clancy, I did,” he replied, and turned her back up the stairs again. “These are working hours, and I expect you to observe them unless there’s a very good reason why you shouldn’t.”
She clung to the banister and refused to move.
“But don’t you call this a good reason?” she cried. “My father’s ill, he might want me.”
“He’s not ill and he doesn’t want anybody. He’s just asked to be left alone till lunch-time. Be sensible, now. I’d have called you had it been serious. Stop fighting me and come back to the schoolroom where I told you to stay.”
She began to walk slowly up the stairs beside him.
“I don’t understand you, Mark,” she said. “Sometimes you’re so understanding, and sometimes you’re so—so inhuman.”
He gave her arm a little squeeze.
“Don’t behave like a child,” he said, “or I’ll have to put you back to Brian’s standard again. Listen, Clancy, you must learn to trust me. I’m not trying to keep you from your father. You would only be in the way down there and do more harm than good.”
“He’s all right? Promise?”
“I promise you he’ll be all right if everyone let’s him alone. Now go and have a warm by the fire and then finish your work.”
Lunch was an uncomfortable meal for everyone but Kevin, who remained in the library, and had a tray sent in. When the meal was over Mrs. Desmond dismissed everyone, announcing that she wanted a private word with Mr. Cromwell.
He took her into Kevin’s study, and Biddy brought them some ill-made coffee, since Mrs. Desmond came from Dublin and was used to grand ways.
“Ugh! Undrinkable,” Kate Desmond said, and proceeded at once to cross-examine Mark on every conceivable question relating to the family.
“Of course,” she said, “I’ve tried from time to time to help Clancy. She’s my niece, and Clodagh has had hospitality of a sort here, but it’s quite impossible to do anything for the child with my brother refusing to give her any chances. He should have sent her to school long ago, as I’ve often told him. This old-fashioned idea of governesses, and now a tutor. Most peculiar, I consider it, to put your daughter in the charge of a young man. Anything might happen—if you weren’t the right type, I mean.”
Mark wanted to laugh. He could understand what a thorn in the flesh the O’Shanes must find her, but he could not take her high-handedness very seriously.
“Oh, I think it’s working out quite well,” he said politely.
“Well, I will say you seem to have the knack of managing people,” she conceded, speaking with the grudging appreciation of someone who had managed people all her life. “My brother listens to you, and even Clancy is less of a little hooligan than she used to be. Do you like the child?”
“Yes,” said Mark impassively, “I’m very fond of her.”
“H’m. And what did you think of my daughter?”
“Clodagh’s a very charming girl. When she’s settled down, she should make Conn an excellent wife.”
“If she marries him. I don’t mind telling you, Mr. Cromwell, that I shall do everything in my power to stop this marriage.”
Mark looked at her gravely.
“Then, if you will forgive my saying so, Mrs. Desmond, you will be a very foolish woman. Clodagh is just the type to thrive on opposition. She and Clancy are alike in that.”
“Don’t you believe in opposing your pupils, then?” she asked curiously.
“Oh, yes, but I try not to make it obvious.”
“And you would suggest I don’t oppose Clodagh?”
“I would suggest you let things take their course, and if this engagement is only a whim, it will peter out itself. But Conn and your daughter have known each other since they were children, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be a success. They’re both twenty-two and should know their own minds, and, legally you know there’s nothing you can do.”
“Oh, legally! That’s how my husband talks.”
“I don’t think you’d like a runaway match, would you?”
Her hard eyes looked alarmed.
“No, I shouldn’t. Disgraceful! Well, perhaps there’s something in what you say. You seem a very wise young man, and the children are lucky to be under your care. I’ll think about it, but I shall never forgive my brother for his part in this affair, never! I think he encouraged it to spite me. because we’ve never seen eye to eye. How bad is his heart?”
Mark shrugged.
“It’s difficult to say. I don’t think Doctor Boyle was unduly anxious, but of course a heart is a tricky business and one never knows.”
She got up and pulled on her furs.
“You’ll stay, won’t you?” she said abruptly.
“Stay?”
“I mean, you’re not thinking of leaving yet, or anything, are you?”
“Not until Brian is ready for school. That should be by the end of next summer if all goes well.”
“Good. I shall like to think of you here. I’m fond of my brother, really, though you might not think it to listen to us. If you can persuade him to send Clancy to me for a visit I’ll fit the girl out with some decent clothes and look round for someone suitable. If anything happened to Kevin she wouldn’t stand much of a chance shut up here alone with Bea.”
“I’ll tell him,” said Mark. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and fetch the car. I think you said your train went at three forty-five.”
With Kate Desmond’s departure the house settled down again to its normal routine. In a little while Clodagh wrote to say that her mother had given in and was making the best of things, and she and Conn hoped to be married in the spring. They saw little of Conn, who was busy settling up his affairs, for which Mark was thankful. He was a little worried about Clancy, who did not look well, and appeared apathetic and easily tired. He thought it would be a good thing if she went away for a little and resolved to speak to Kevin about his sister’s offer. Clodagh was to stay with friends in Kildare for the first fortnight of December, and it might be a good opportunity for Clancy to visit her aunt.
It was difficult to devise much distraction, for the weather was bad, and there was little alternative to going for long walks in the rain or to the cinema in Duneen. On a wet afternoon, Brian could always find amusement and more personal attention with Agnes in the old nursery, but Clancy would sit idle in the schoolroom window-seat, staring out across the loch and drumming listless fingers on the glass.