Strangers at the Abbey

by Elsie J. Oxenham

  Rykie’s eyes fell. “She can’t. She’ll have to save up. She thought perhaps—perhaps one of you—Joy’s got plenty of money. Couldn’t you lend me enough for my fare, Joy?”

  “How much?” Joy asked curtly.

  “My dear, I would not permit it,” said Mrs. Shirley.

  “I don’t know how much,” Rykie admitted. “But we could find out. Oh, Joy, would you?”

  “From one point of view I’d love to do it,” Joy told her. “But I couldn’t, unless Aunty agreed, and you heard what she said.”

  Rykie shot a suspicious look at her. “Why would you love to do it?”

  “To get rid of you,” Joy said cheerfully. “You’ll never settle down here. But it can’t be done. I haven’t large sums of money lying round, and I have to consult Aunty before I take a lot out of the bank. Besides, I’m not your cousin. Ask Joan.”

  “I haven’t any large sums of money,” Joan assured her. “What I have belongs to the Abbey for its upkeep. I couldn’t do it, Rykie, and I wouldn’t if I could. You’re far too young and unformed to be let loose in Hollywood. It would probably ruin you for life.”

  “Oh, what rot!” Rykie blazed. “Belle would look after me! It would be wonderful to go to her!”

  “In two years or so,” Joan said definitely.

  With stormy eyes Rykie took up the letter and read it through again. She drank another cup of tea and ate a scone. Then she turned to Joan. “Where can I get one of these things? Do I have to go to the post office? I must write to Belle.”

  “To tell her how hard-hearted we are?” Joy asked.

  “To say none of you understand one scrap,” Rykie snapped.

  “Sorry we’re so dense! I can give you an air-mail. I use them to write to Jandy Mac. She lives on a South Sea island.”

  “Jandy Fraser,” Joan laughed.

  “She’ll always be Jandy Mac, even if she marries six times,” Jen remarked.

  “I hope she won’t do that. Poor Alec! I’ll give you one, Rykie, so that you can tell Belle just what pigs we all are,” Joy said.

  Rykie glared at her. “Thanks! But I’d rather you’d lend me the money.”

  “No,” said Joy, and went to her desk. “Here you are! Use a thin pen and write carefully. I’ll show you how to seal it—and I won’t try to read what you’ve written! Put your name there, and write only on those three sides,” and she went off to her piano.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  RYKIE’S NEW IDEA

  “Joy, couldn’t you possibly——?” Rykie had crept into the room where Joy was practising and stood beside her. She spoke coaxingly, her voice full of pleading.

  Joy looked up from her piano. “We hadn’t time to think, when you asked us first. Do you really mean that if I’d fork out the cash you’d throw over the play and go off to Hollywood, leaving them in the lurch? After the way you grabbed that part?”

  “Oh, that! It’s only a school thing,” Rykie said scornfully. “It doesn’t really matter.” But her eyes fell before Joy’s cool stare.

  “You’ll find it matters to us. Even if I had the money in the house, I wouldn’t give you a penny to help you to let the school down. Not on any account!”

  “That other girl could do it. She comes and watches rehearsals.”

  “Not likely, after the way you turned her out! Joan and I would feel let down for ever if you behaved like that.”

  “Oh, tosh! They could find another Jaques; if Aileen was snuffy about it. It matters such a lot to me! You’re mean! You’ve got heaps of money!” Rykie blazed out in wrathful disappointment. “And though Joan says she hasn’t any, she’s got other things. Those stones on show in the Abbey—there are a lot of them and they’re worth heaps. If she’d give me just one I could sell it and it would pay my fare.”

  Joy’s hands dropped from the keys and she sat up and stared. “The jewels of Lady Jehane? My dear child, you must be mad!”

  Rykie’s eyes fell. “It was only an idea. I suddenly remembered those old stones. If Joan wanted to help me she could surely spare one. It’s not just for myself; it’s my whole life—my career. I want to get started.”

  “Joan doesn’t want to help you—in this. She’s sure you aren’t ready for Hollywood, and so are the rest of us. As for Jehane’s jewels, don’t be a little ass! They half belong to me, in any case; Jehane was my relation, not Joan’s. They’re Abbey property; don’t you go staring hungrily at them! They aren’t going to be sold to help anybody’s career. And I’d advise you to remember this; careers may be very important, though I don’t feel sure that yours matters so much. But other things are more important still, and if you want to make a success of your life they matter enormously. I mean things like being fair and honest and not letting people down. If you ever go on the stage you’ll need to stick to your contracts, even if something better comes along. I feel sick to think you’d let the Dramatic down, as you suggest.”

  “It’s only a school thing!” Rykie cried again. “It doesn’t really matter!”

  “It matters a lot. I can just imagine you in Hollywood,” Joy said, scorn in her tone. “Trotting along to your manager—‘Oh, please, let me off this contract! I’ve had the most marvellous offer! I can’t refuse; it matters to my whole career!’ How they’d loathe you! You’d soon ruin any chance you had.”

  “But if it was a better offer they’d have to let me take it!”

  “You make me ill,” Joy said briefly. “Go away and play! You’re still an infant; Joan’s right about that. Run along; I want to work.”

  “Then you won’t——”

  “Certainly not, and neither will Joan. We couldn’t think of it for an instant.”

  Rykie went gloomily away, the chords of a Beethoven Sonata rolling in her ears.

  “What was Rykie doing here, Jenny-Wren?” Joan, paying an evening visit to the Abbey cats, had met the schoolgirls in the tresaunt passage. Rykie had raced away with a muttered word about prep, but Jen, thrusting aside the thought of work, had turned back to the garth with Joan.

  “She asked me to come with her. When she came first, you told me to bring her, if she wanted to see it again. I was rather surprised that she asked,” Jen admitted. “She hasn’t asked me before. She didn’t seem to care about it.”

  “I saw that. What did she want to see?”

  Jen knit her brows. “I can tell you that, for sure and certain. It was Jehane’s jewels, in the refectory. She seemed suddenly terribly keen on them; she stood and stared and stared, and pointed to one and then another. She didn’t want to see anything else; we didn’t go round the Abbey at all.”

  “How odd!” Joan had not heard Joy’s story yet. “She didn’t seem particularly keen on them before.”

  “I don’t know what put the jewels into her head. I started telling her more about Jehane and Ambrose, and I showed her Ambrose’s gold ring that you gave me, and told her about the blue sapphire ring with his and her initials on it, that Jandy Mac brought back to us from Australia. But she wasn’t listening, so I stopped. She was sort of gloating over the stones.”

  “Queer!” Joan said thoughtfully. “I wonder what has got into her mind about them.”

  “I don’t know! She didn’t say what she was thinking. Don’t talk about her, Joan! Let’s talk to the cats instead. I don’t often have you and the cats and the Abbey to myself.”

  “So that was it!” Joan exclaimed, later in the evening, when the girls had gone to bed and Joy called her into the garden at dusk and told her of Rykie’s latest suggestion. “What a horrible idea! I suppose she was wondering which she’d choose, if she could wheedle one out of me! She’ll try that next!”

  “She’s obsessed with this career of hers,” Joy said, gathering roses in the half-dark. “These are for Aunty’s breakfast tray. Isn’t your cousin a ghastly kid?”

  “She is. But I’m sorry for her. She seems utterly untrained in all the things that matter to us. Don’t tell Jen what she said about the jewels, Joy! It would upset her
fearfully, and things are hard enough for her.”

  “I won’t tell her. I fancy Jen sees through young Rykie thoroughly.”

  “She doesn’t talk about her much. Would Rykie really let the school down, do you think?”

  “I’m certain she would, if she saw any chance to get to Hollywood. The thought of a school play wouldn’t stop her.”

  “No, her career comes first. Fairness and being trustworthy don’t matter. Her values are all wrong,” Joan agreed. “All wrong, according to our ideas, I mean. She’ll make some awful blunder and ruin her chances over there, if she ever gets there, unless we can do something about it while we have her here.”

  “I told her that,” Joy remarked.

  “We have the chance to help her; perhaps it’s the chance of her life. But we don’t seem to be making much impression so far.”

  “She’s not ready for Hollywood. You were right about that. I wish there was a ‘Butterfly’ for Aunty, but they’re only tight buds.”

  “Those are beautiful; Mother will love them. I’ll tell her you picked them for her in the dark. No, I wouldn’t like Rykie to go to Hollywood at present. I wonder if Belle’s the same? We know nothing about her.”

  “Except the way she skipped off and left the kid on our hands, without even coming to see Aunty.”

  “It was thoughtless and callous,” Joan agreed. “But if she had been offered a seat in a plane with her friends, you can forgive her.”

  “I wish we’d seen her. Either she or somebody else ought to have put decent ideas into young Rykie.”

  “Yes, that side of Rykie has been neglected. She’s untrained in some ways,” Joan agreed. “But it may not be Belle’s fault; she’s only eighteen. I’m inclined to blame the father; we know nothing about him. Their mother has been dead for some years.”

  “Strangers to us; complete and absolute strangers, in every way.” Joy turned to the house with her roses. She paused and gazed about. “Oh, Joan, aren’t you glad?”

  Joan’s arm slipped through hers. “Glad it’s ours? Gladder than glad, Joy dear. You don’t mind my saying ‘ours’?”

  “You know I want you to say it. I’m so glad for Aunty to have all this.”

  “She loves it. The house has crept into her heart. I’m thankful you were able to give it to her. It has made her so happy.”

  “I know,” Joy assented. “When we were in Bournemouth last year, while you and Jen and Jandy were having adventures here, Aunty used to talk about going home and about how much she loved it all. I could see it for myself; she had quite a nice holiday, but she kept thinking about home. I am so glad for her!”

  Joan squeezed her arm. “For you and me too. Because we’re so glad and thankful, we’ll put up with the stranger dropped among us, and help her if we can.”

  “Right! We will. But she is a little horror,” Joy said cheerfully. “She has the most utterly futile mind of anyone I’ve ever known.”

  “And no ideals at all, poor kid,” Joan said soberly, as they went up the terrace steps to the house.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  RYKIE’S MYSTERIOUS LETTER

  “Another letter for Rykie?” Jen cried, coming in from school. “But it’s not an air-mail this time.”

  “Where’s it from? Give it to me!” and Rykie seized the letter.

  “I couldn’t read the postmark, but it isn’t from America,” Joy remarked.

  A wave of colour swept into Rykie’s face. “What luck!” and she rushed off upstairs, clutching her letter.

  Joy raised her eyebrows. “From a boy-friend? Have you heard anything about him, Jen?”

  “Not a word. She hasn’t told me about anybody. She couldn’t have—what you said, Joy! She’s only a school kid!”

  “What’s that?” Joan came in. “Where’s Rykie?”

  “Rushed up to her room, hugging her letter and very red in the face. She said, ‘What luck!’ when she saw the writing, and sprinted off. I say it’s from her boy-friend,” Joy suggested. “Jenny-Wren says she couldn’t have one, but I don’t feel too sure.”

  Joan looked troubled. “Oh, I don’t think so! I agree with Jen. Rykie’s too young.”

  “Not she; not her kind. We don’t know what friends she had in Scotland. She’ll have half a dozen boys by the time she’s sixteen, and she’ll play them off against one another.”

  “Then she’ll end up with none at all,” Jen observed.

  Next morning as she wheeled out her cycle, Jen had a private word with Joan. “Rykie hasn’t said anything about her letter. But I’m absolutely certain she spent her whole prep time writing a long answer to it.”

  “Sure, Jenny-Wren? Then she’ll find herself in difficulties at school.”

  “In a regular mess, I expect. She’ll have returned work; we’ll be late home, so don’t worry about us.”

  “I thought she had a rehearsal?”

  “So she has; I’d forgotten. My babes can’t have the hall to-night, so I’d decided to do prep at school instead of at home. Rykie won’t like it if she has to miss the play. The others won’t love her either.”

  “Then she should do her work at the proper time.”

  “I know, but I can’t make her stick to it, Joan dear. She scribbled reams, instead of doing her maths, and she took jolly good care I didn’t see the envelope. I tried to pull her up; I asked if she hadn’t better get on with her work. But she snapped at me and told me to mind my own business. So I did. I don’t care if she gets into fifty rows.”

  “You can’t do any more. It’s hard on you! Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “I’m getting a lot out of it.” Jen gave her a happy grin. “Living here with you—it’s the dream of my life, even with Rykie thrown in. Don’t worry about me! I’m all right.”

  Joan laughed. “Then I won’t worry. Good luck to you to-day. Come home as soon as you can!”

  Jen nodded and turned to Rykie. “Ready? Come on, then! Shall I post your letter for you as we go through the village?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll post it myself in town.” Rykie shot a suspicious look at her companion.

  Jen smiled and waved to the caretaker at the Abbey gate as they raced down the lane.

  Rykie came to her at eleven o’clock, milk and biscuits in hand, her face black with disgust. “I’ve got to stay after school for both maths and French, and I’m in a ghastly funk about my history. What on earth shall I do about the rehearsal?”

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Jen said nobly. “But there’s only one thing you can do; tell Muriel, or Miss Cameron.”

  “I told Miss Macey and Mademoiselle about the rehearsal!” Rykie wailed. “But they didn’t seem to think it mattered. I said all I could.”

  “The others in the play will say the things you didn’t happen to think of. You can’t expect them to like it, can you?” Jen asked reasonably. “After this you’d better listen to me and do your prep before you write your important letters. Sorry! Was that catty? It’s true, anyway. There’s Muriel talking to Nesta. You’d better tell her at once.”

  Rykie hesitated, not liking the task. “You come and protect me.”

  “They won’t eat you. They can do scenes with no Jaques in them. Oh, come on! I’ll back you up. Speedwell’s a dear; you ought to have found that out by now. Muriel! Hi, Muriel! Come on, idiot!”

  Very shamefaced, Rykie made her confession. “I’ll have to miss the rehearsal. I’ve two returned lessons. I’m sorry.”

  “Probably three. We shan’t get home for supper,” Jen said cheerfully. “You can do without her for once, can’t you, Ex?”

  The ex-Queen grinned. “What a hideous name to call me! Oh, we can do other scenes! Nesta, we’ll probably put some work into you and Orlando. I hope you haven’t returned lessons too?”

  “Not yet,” Nesta laughed. “And I’m hopeful about my French. I expect I’ll be all right. I need a lot of practice with Orlando; I’ll be glad to have a good go at it.”

  “All the same, Rykie, I do think
you might remember the play and prepare your work decently,” Muriel said severely. “Don’t make a habit of it! You’re quite good as Jaques, but you need practice as much as anybody else. Why didn’t you do your prep last night?”

  “I had an important letter to write,” Rykie said defiantly.

  “You’d be more sensible if you left your letters till the week-end.”

  “This letter couldn’t wait,” Rykie retorted. “All right, Muriel. I’ll try not to do it again.”

  “I’d advise you to try hard, or Miss Cameron will be after you. She won’t let you off rehearsals often! I’ll tell her about to-night, but do buck up and pull yourself together and work properly!”

  “I’ll try,” Rykie said again, and went gloomily to look at her neglected history notes.

  “I say, Speedwell!” Jen hung back and then ran after Muriel. “I did my best, but she would do the letter. We don’t know what it’s all about, but I thought I’d warn you of one thing. She’s heard from Hollywood and her sister wants her there as soon as she can go. If Rykie had any cash she’d go at once and never think anything about you and the play. She hasn’t the money for her fare, but if her sister sends it, or if she can scrounge it anywhere, she’ll go.”

  “And let us down, do you mean?” Muriel knit her brows.

  “I’m certain sure she would. She wouldn’t wait two months, just for the play. Couldn’t you have an understudy?”

  Muriel frowned. “Aileen knows the part, and she watches rehearsals quite often. I’ll give her a hint. But it would be a horribly mean thing for Rykie to do.”

  “She’d do it. She’s like that. She’d say the play didn’t really matter. I thought I’d better tell you. It wasn’t sneaking, was it?” Jen asked anxiously. “Don’t pass it round! I don’t want to make them loathe her.”

  “I’ll keep it to myself, except for Aileen. Thanks for the warning; somebody ought to know. I hope Rykie won’t get the chance,” Muriel said. “It would be hateful if she let us down.”

  “Joan and Joy are furious at the very idea,” Jen assured her.