“I’m afraid I have put you all through a good deal,” he said ruefully.
Finch said, “Tell them about Mr. Fennel’s part in finding the bank notes, Renny.”
Briefly Renny repeated what had happened, not at all embarrassed by this suppliant picture of himself, but eager to give credit where credit was due.
“Well — I’ll be damned!” said Nicholas.
“It is remarkable,” declared Ernest, “and shows what efficacy there may be in prayer, even in these days. Does the Rector know of the sequel?”
“Not yet. I’m going to phone him directly.”
“He is such a dear,” said Meg. “I’m sure that, if anybody’s prayers would be listened to, his would.”
Wakefield said, “I’ve known stranger things than that in the war.”
“You say,” said Nicholas, “that you got straight up from your knees and went and found Roma with the kettle?”
“Yes.”
“where is the money?” asked Piers.
“I picked it up,” said Meg. “It was on the floor. Here you are, Renny.” She offered him the roll of bank notes.
“Thanks.” He stuffed them into his pocket. Then he exclaimed, “By George, how am I to explain this to Clapperton? I don’t want to tell him that Roma took the money.”
Meg ordered a fresh pot of tea and they settled down to discuss, with fervour and many interruptions by Nicholas, this new complication.
XXVII
THE CHILDREN
RAGS MOVED WITH great agility from the door but still Roma knew he had been listening. She had caught him at it before, and he had caught her at it. Now they gave each other a wary glance. He remarked:
“So you’ve been sent from the room, Miss. That was a good idea, for little pitchers ’ave long ears. Ever ’eard that saying?”
“It’s a wonder yours aren’t a mile long,” she returned composedly.
He turned to her abruptly. “Has that there money been found?”
“You know it has.”
“And who found it, may I ask?”
“I did.”
He came close, his face alight with curiosity. “Let me in on the whole thing, Miss Roma, and you’ll not be sorry.”
She stood balancing her cup and saucer. “I’m not allowed to tell,” she said. “Please don’t bother me.”
“As though I’d bother you! Tell or not, just as you please but — I bet you’re in for a lot of trouble.”
“Did Auntie Alayne say so?”
“She don’t like you.”
“I know.”
“what would you say to leavin’ Jalna?”
“I wouldn’t go. Uncle Renny wouldn’t let me go. He likes me better than anyone, excepting Adeline.”
“My eye! You have a good opinion of yourself.”
“I know things.”
Rags gave her a look of grudging respect. “Do you think ’e likes you better than ’e likes ’is wife?”
“Yes. He told me so.”
“You’re a riddle and no mistake. ’Ere comes Miss Adeline, looking wetter than a rat.” His expression changed to one of doting admiration as Adeline flung open the door at the back of the hall and appeared in her riding things. She came toward them eagerly.
“Shut the door, can’t you?” said Rags.
She went and kicked it shut. She exclaimed, “I’ve been riding Spartan! It’s the first time Wright would let me on him. He’s wonderful. He moves like Pegasus might move, if he’d had a cocktail. Oh, what bliss!” She pushed her hair back from her forehead. “where are you going with your tea, Roma? I’m starving. I could eat seventeen currant buns with jam on them. What’s going on in there?”
“Family conclave,” said Rags. “Get Miss Roma to tell you. She knows all about it.”
Roma began to ascend the stairs.
“Mayn’t I go in?” asked Adeline.
Rags puckered his face and gave a decisive shake of the head. “I shouldn’t if I was you, Miss Adeline. There’s serious matters being discussed.”
She looked anxious. “Is anything wrong?”
Roma said over her shoulder, “Come up to my room and I’ll tell you.”
“All right.” Then, in a cajoling tone, “Ragsie, would you bring me some tea?”
When she called him Ragsie, he would have died for her. Yet he muttered at the way he was overworked, as he rattled down the stairs to the basement.
Roma set her plate and cup of tea on the table that had been Eden’s. She took care not to place either of them on the spot where Eden had carved his name. She took a piece of bread and butter and began to eat it. Adeline came in, pulling off her wet cardigan as she came. Standing in her white blouse and riding breeches she looked tall and very slim. Her beautifully marked brows were bent in an expression of concern. She asked:
“what are you going to tell me, Roma?”
Roma continued to eat in silence. She could not decide how to begin her story.
“Is it something about the letter that was lost?”
“It wasn’t a letter.”
“what was it then?”
“Money. A thousand dollars.”
“A thousand dollars!” Adeline was astounded by the enormity of the sum. Then a wave of jealousy swept over her, jealousy that Roma should know what was so closely connected with Renny and what she herself had not known. “when did you find out?”
“I’ve known all along.”
“who told you?” Now the jealousy hurt her cruelly.
“Nobody. I knew because I took the money. I took it from Mr. Clapperton and hid it in the woods. Uncle Renny thought he had taken it and forgotten, but today I told him.”
Questions came sharply from Adeline. It was hard to get the story clear from her cousin’s answers but at last she understood, in a bewildered fashion. She was silent for a space, then:
“It was frightfully dishonest,” she said. “You might be sent to prison.”
“I don’t care. I wanted him to have the money.”
“Was he glad to have it, do you think?”
“Oh, yes. He hugged me and kissed me.”
“Goodness! It seems worse to me than lying about going to see Othello, and I got into a terrible row for that.”
“Uncle Renny was glad about this.”
“Was Mummy glad?”
A smile flickered across Roma’s face. “No. She made a scene. She was furious at me but I don’t care.”
Rags came up the attic stairs with a tray. He panted ostentatiously as he entered the room. “Three flights of stairs,” he said. “If I don’t get my sciatica back at me it’ll be a wonder. No system can stand what mine ’as to put up with.”
“Oh, Ragsie, what a superlative tea!” She began hungrily to eat.
The two girls were silent till he left the room. Then Adeline asked, “where is Mummy?”
“In her room. Uncle Renny helped her up.”
“Helped her! Couldn’t she walk?”
“She was too angry.”
“Goodness, Roma, you make things sound strange.”
“They are strange.”
Steps sounded on the stairs. Patience and Maurice came in. She said, “Well, you have messed things up, Roma. You may be pleased with yourself but I think it’s pretty awful. Now you’re going to be a little blessing to Mother and me.”
“A blessing?” repeated Roma, not understanding.
Maurice said, perching on the footboard of the bed, “Let her alone, Patty. She’s had enough said to her.”
“That’s a benign attitude for you to take but she isn’t going to live with you.”
“I shouldn’t mind if she did, and you won’t be any trouble, will you, Roma?”
“where am I going?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“You are coming to stay with us,” answered Patience, “and you are to help me gather up your clothes. The suitcase you brought back from school will do for the present. We can get your other things later on.”
; “I don’t want to.”
“Mummy and I don’t much want to either. But you’ve brought it on us.”
“why?”
Patience turned laughing to Maurice. “Isn’t she priceless?”
He stretched out a long arm and took a handful of Roma’s fine fair hair, drawing her to him. He said, “Can’t you realize that it will be better for everyone if you stay with Auntie Meg and Patience for a while?”
“It’s Auntie Alayne who doesn’t want me,” she said, twisting her hands together.
Patience exclaimed, “Is it any wonder? You have nearly wrecked her reason with your little tricks. Come, get the suitcase.”
“Her hair,” said Maurice, fingering it, “isn’t hair. It’s like down. I love the feel of it.” However, he loosed it and she moved reluctantly toward the clothes cupboard. She said:
“I will stay only a little while. I don’t have to stay, do I, Adeline?”
“You’re at the bottom of all this,” said Adeline, “so I don’t care what you do. Besides, you’re a thief.”
“It wasn’t real stealing. I didn’t keep the money.”
“You did worse. You made my father search and search and search for it.” Her dark eyes were brilliant with anger. “You made him suffer.”
“But you should have seen how glad he was when he found it.”
“Stop arguing,” Patience said, “and give me your clothes.” She set the suitcase in the middle of the floor.
“I won’t go,” said Roma, “till I ask Uncle Renny if I must.”
Patience made an exasperated sound. “It was he who asked Mother to take you. You’d not stay where you are not wanted, would you?”
“You don’t want me.”
“Well, somebody’s got to have you.”
Roma raised her eyes to Maurice’s. “May I go with you?”
He answered gently, “I’m afraid we haven’t room for another child. Mummy isn’t very well.”
“I’d be at school most of the time.”
“I think this is just a visit, Roma. You’ll come back to Jalna after a little.”
She succumbed and began to help with the packing. Rain streamed down the window panes arid made a muffled thunder on the roof. Up here the scenes below had a sense of unreality. The children seemed shut in behind the walls of rain. Yet at last Roma’s clothes were packed and she followed Patience resignedly out of the room.
“Goodbye,” she said, from the doorway and made the word sound final and rather tragic.
“Goodbye,” returned Adeline briefly.
Maurice said, “You’ll be seeing each other when you go back to school, won’t you?”
“Yes,” answered Adeline, and they sat in silence for a space. Then Adeline said sombrely, “I wish I might never see Roma again.”
“I don’t blame you. But Father says she is only about six, in her mind.”
“Six! You should hear the things she says.”
“what sort of things?”
“I can’t remember. They’re not things you can remember.”
He came and sat down beside her. “You are the one I like, Adeline. Do you know, we haven’t had a word together since Othello.”
“Neither we have. It seems ages ago. Everything has gone wrong since that night.”
“But you did enjoy it, didn’t you?”
A rapture of remembrance lighted her face. “It was gorgeous.”
“Swift acted like a fool. But he was just carried away by you, as you were carried away by the play. You have no idea what you looked like, Adeline.”
A quick colour moved into her cheeks. She asked:
“Do you ever see him?”
“Very seldom. He’s still at Vaughanlands. Have you heard that Gemmel Griffith is to marry Mr. Clapperton?”
“That old man!” She was aghast.
“He’s not so old and he has lots of money. Garda is delighted. She told me so.”
“Then she’s a selfish pig.”
“Oh, no. But it will be a great thing for all of them. They’re going to move into Vaughanlands. I expect Swift will leave then.”
“I hope he does.” She took another buttered bun.
Maurice watched her with his indolent smile. He asked, “Can you spare me a cup of tea? I was too excited downstairs to take anything. I’ll drink out of Roma’s cup.”
Adeline sprang up, eager to do something for Maurice. She rinsed Roma’s cup in the ewer on the washing stand. She filled it from the teapot and offered him a bun. They sat smiling at each other, munching the buns, casting from them the remembrance of the past hour.
“This is fun,” he said. “I wish you weren’t going away so soon.”
“So do I. I never shall like school.”
“what do the girls talk about?”
“Boys. Imaginary love affairs. They haven’t had any real ones. Different kinds of makeup — yet they’re not allowed to use any. Movie stars — they know all about their silly marriages and about the films they are in, though we’re hardly ever taken to the cinema. It all makes me sick. I’ve lived too much with real people to enjoy living with those girls.”
“Do they like you?”
“I don’t know. They say I’m snooty.”
“I dread going to University. I did all my studying with a tutor when I was in Ireland. I had only one friend and I wanted no other. I miss him.”
“I know. He is Pat Crawshay.”
“Sir Patrick Crawshay.” Maurice dwelt on the name with affection. “He’s been a baronet since he was three. His father was killed in a hunting accident.”
“I remember him. He had tow hair. We rode together when I went fox hunting in Ireland.”
“He has told me about that. When the hunt was over he asked you if you would kiss him goodbye and you warned him that you were pretty strong and you gave him a hug that nearly cracked his ribs.”
Adeline gave a joyous chuckle. “I remember. He didn’t like it a bit.”
“Not like it! He liked it so well that he says he is coming over here to marry you when you are eighteen.”
“what conceit!” She looked scornful but she was secretly pleased.
Maurice said, with a serious look in his dark-blue eyes, “I don’t think I shall allow that, Adeline, even though Patrick is my best friend.”
“Don’t worry.” She spoke with equal seriousness. “I’m never going to marry. I’m going to live always at Jalna with Daddy. I shall never find a man I’d love as well as I do him.”
“You say that now. Just see what happens when you fall in love with a chap your own age.”
“You’ll wait a long time to see that.”
“I’m willing to wait, Adeline.”
Something in his voice confused her. She could no longer think clearly or speak with decision. The soft thunder of the rain resounded on the roof. They sat silent, not looking at each other. Then Maurice bent toward her and ruffled her hair with his lips.
Piers’ voice sounded from below. “Mooey! Come along. We’re going.”
“Goodbye,” Maurice said abruptly and rose.
“Goodbye.” Her air was laconic. She listened to his footsteps going lightly down the stairs.
After a little she heard the sound of Piers’ car on the gravel drive. She was alone, in Roma’s room. Roma was gone. Snatched up by the powerful world of the grown-ups and taken to another house. Adeline could not remember when Roma had come to Jalna. She seemed always to have been there. But never had she seemed like a sister. Perhaps it had been something in Roma herself, perhaps something in Alayne that had kept Roma an outsider. Now she was gone and Adeline had a sense of loss, of blankness. She wished Mooey might have remained. She shrank from meeting Alayne. She was afraid of what Alayne might say about Roma, even though she herself felt hot anger at what Roma had done. How could Renny have kissed her — been pleased with her? For the first time in her life Adeline felt jealous of Roma, and that at the moment of her disgrace and banishment.
A
rcher came running into the room. His eyes looked very large and intensely blue under his tall pale forehead. His dry fair hair stood on end. He shouted, as though Adeline were deaf:
“Roma’s gone! what do you think of that? Did you know? who said you could have tea up here? who carried it up? Roma’s gone! Now I can jump on her bed if I want to. I’ll jump on it now.”
He leaped on to the bed and began jumping wildly up and down. “I’ll come in here whenever I like. I’ll come in the middle of the night and jump up and down on the bed. Why do you s’pose they sent her away?” He fell and lay across the bed panting.
Adeline said, “You’ll be the next to go. See if you aren’t.”
He all but rolled off the bed in his astonishment. “Me?” he cried. “They wouldn’t dare! who’d send me away, I’d like to know?”
“They’d have a family conference — like today — then off you’d go.”
“where?”
“I don’t know. They’d decide that.”
He was on his feet, beginning to run out of the room, his face distorted by suspicion and fear. “I’ll see about this,” he said, as he ran.
She was after him, caught him and held him fast. “Don’t be a little silly. I was pulling your leg.”
He wriggled until he could look into her face.
“Honestly?” he demanded.
“Of course. They never could send you away because there’s no one on earth who would take you in.”
He laughed happily. “Aren’t you glad Roma’s gone? There’ll be just us two and we’ll do everything together, shan’t we, Adeline?”
Downstairs all was quiet. The uncles were tired out. Nicholas lay sunk in his chair sleeping. A bubbling snore vibrated his grey moustache. Ernest sat close by the fire, resting his nerves with a game of patience. Winter was on the way and now they could settle down peacefully to wait for it.
XXVIII
THE CLEAR AIR
THE TWO CARS had gone and he stood alone in the porch. It had been a great year for growth and the Virginia Creeper, unsatisfied by all its conquest of the past ninety years, had reached out with new vigour to spread its lusty leaves on every prominence where it could find support. Time and again it had been pruned but not this year. Now the tendrils draped the porch, the new growth clinging to the old or hanging loose, so that those who went in or out had to push it aside. Today rain dripped from it, ruddy fallen leaves carpeted the porch, still there were enough and to spare. His warm-coloured tweeds, the red of his hair, the weather-beaten tone of his skin, fitted well with the autumn tints about him.
The Jalna Saga – Deluxe Edition: All Sixteen Books of the Enduring Classic Series & The Biography of Mazo de la Roche Page 430