CHAPTER THREE
LESLIE'S first impulse was to exclaim that no mere lost fortune would have made her cry so tempestuously. But the next moment she realized that, all unknowing, he had offered -her a straw at which her drowning pride might clutch. Neither he nor anyone else need ever know the tragic folly which had prompted these tears. Mildly embarrassing it might be to be thought capable of weeping -unrestrainedly over the loss of a hoped-for fortune. But that was nothing to the agony of humiliation involved in anyone guessing the real truth. So, instead of pulling away from him with some indignant denial, she continued to lean against his arm for a moment not altogether averse to having this support in her limp and exhausted condition and said,"I don't usually cry about such things. But it's a little frightening to realize how different the future is going to be from anything we ever expected." ' "Yes, I can understand that." "Kate and I can manage well enough, I don't doubt. And I suppose Alma will just go on being at school. Though it may have to be a very different school, of course," she murmured in parenthesis. "But Moriey. And Mother and Father " "Um-hm," he agreed, rubbing his chin reflectively. "I've gathered that your parents constitute a formidable part of the problem.""It's easy enough to criticize them," she exclaimed quickly and defensively and now she did pull away from him, sitting up and trying, with a hasty hand, to smooth her tumbled hair. "It's true that they've lived a comfortable, unrealistic sort of life based on little more than fond hopes. You can say they're silly and out-dated and all that sort of thing, but " 38 "I wasn't, really going to say anything of the land, you know," he put in mildly. "But .the fact is that they've made a lovely home-life for us here always," she ran on, not heeding his interruption. "Except for what happened to Moriey, we've been a completely happy family. I don't think anyone can ever have been happier or more more carefree." As she looked back on past contentment, unlikely ever to return, her voice trembled for a moment, and in her effort to steady it once more she achieved a hard, almost resentful tone. "You can't say they've done nothing worthwhile, when they've made their four children happy all these years.""No one is suggesting they've done nothing worthwhile least of all myself, my sweet," he returned, and that drawl which tended to broaden his vowels at times was very marked. "I'm not here to comment on the past. I'm here to see what can be done about the future." "Do you mean our future?" she asked incredulously. "Your future," he confirmed easily. "But we aren't exactly your business, are we?" "No?" He smiled at her, so compellingly that she blushed a little and looked away. "You're my only relations so far as I know." "We aren't relations!" Her father's remembered insistence on that point gave added emphasis to her denial. "At least, it's a relationship of the very remotest kind." "The best type possible," he assured her, and that lazy smile seemed to travel over her again in a way no man had dared to smile at her before. "Just enough to constitute a claim to notice, and not enough to lapse into conventional dullness." "I don't know what you mean," she said quickly. But, suddenly, for no special reason, she had a clear recollection of Oliver saying she was like a sister to him, and she thought that in no circumstances whatever would Reid Carthay choose to regard her as a sister. 39 "I'll explain in more detail, if you like," he offered amusedly.But she said hastily, "No, thank you." And when he laughed, she added, "I don't see what you think you could do about our future." a "No?" He punched little holes in the turf with his thumb and smiled to himself. "The situation isn't all that obscure, you know. You folk have always expected to have the money that has suddenly come to me. It seems you even had very good reason to feel that way. That being so, I can't do less than se.e you get some of it, surely." "Nonsense!" She was startled, and a little indignant again. "Father wouldn't hear of such a thing." Reid Carthay looked sceptical. "He's in a rather nasty spot if he won't." "I'm sure he is. But that wouldn't make him take money from a a stranger. He's quite proud in his own way, you know." "I'm glad you had the grace to hesitate before handing me the word 'stranger.' " He glanced up at her with a grin. "But, apart from that, your father has quite a strong moral right to some of this money, by any standards." "He wouldn't think so," Leslie insisted. And she hoped rather agitatedly that she was right, for it made her feel oddly uncomfortable to think of their being under a great obligation to this bold, smiling man. "Then will you tell me what he indeed all of you can do as an alternative?" The question was not offensively put, but it had a sort of good-humoured, irresistible logic about it. And she was silent, because, of course, there was no easy answer to that. "It's too early to say," she declared at last. "We haven't had time to do more than than take in the essential fact." "Well, at least promise me not to cry about it any more," he said, getting up and holding out his hand to her. 40 She longed to tell him, even then, that she had not been crying about that, for she hated to be thought so spineless. But the alternative of even hinting at the truth was so unthinkable that she could only put her hand into his and allow him to help her to her feet, while she said,"I shan't cry any more." And in her heart she added rather bitterly, "Not even about Oliver." For he belonged to someone else now to Caroline Frenton. And to cry about some other girl's man was the final humiliation.When they reached home, she could hardly believe that it was only just supper-time. It seemed to her thatshe had lived through almost a lifetime of experience since she had left the house. And now here was Alma hopping up and down on one foot and chanting, "Cold chicken for supper," just as though the world had not been turned upside down.Somewhat to the embarrassment of the youngerGreeves, neither of their parents appeared at suppertime, and they were left to entertain the stranger as best they could.And then at last supper was over, and when Katherine suggested they should have coffee in the drawing-room,to the profound relief of everyone Reid replied that _he didn't want any coffee, but would take his car and drive around and have a look at the district. After he had gone, they all remained silent for a few minutes. Then Ahna said rather defiantly, "I like him.""Do you?" Katherine flicked her gold-tipped lashes effectively. "I can't help feeling what a relief it is to have 'our home to ourselves again!""But I think he means well," Leslie said. "A confoundedly dull tribute to pay anyone," declared Moriey. "I hope he isn't going to thrust hisanoney down our throats. I've always had a sneaking sympathy with the nouveaux riches before. But really they mustn't be quite so nouveaux or quite so riches." 41 And, for a moment, he looked extraordinarily like hisi father. I"Oh I don't know." Suddely Leslie felt a most rare! irritation with her family, and more particularly with! Moriey. And because the last thing she wanted was to make Reid a bone of contention in the family circle,-] she got up and said, "I think I'll take a tray up to Mother and see how she's feeling. I do wish shel wouldn't behave as though there'd been a death in the j house, poor pet." I The others laughed. But with an air of surprise and indulgence. For they were still judging the situation3 from the family standard of values, while she, Leslie < realized with surprise, was beginning to wonder how; these things would appear-to an outsider.Puzzled and faintly disturbed by the discovery, she' arranged a tempting little meal on a tray, and wentupstairs. * "Come in, darling," her mother's voice said plaintively, when she knocked at the door of the pretty,, pastel-tinted, Greuze-like room which presented such a perfect setting for its owner. And, as Leslie entered, ; her mother turned a faintly tear-marked face towards her, and languidly shifted one or two of the frilled pillows of the sofa on which she was reclining. "How do you feel, dear?" Leslie's voice instinctively softened and took on an indulgent note. ; "I'm all right, Leslie. It's your poor father I am thinking about. And Moriey." Tears came again into the beautiful dark eyes. "Yes, I know. It's been a bad shock for us all. But I have a feeling things aren't going to be as bad as we feared," Leslie insisted cheerfully, as she propped up : her mother against the cushions and gave her the tray. "I don't really want anything to eat," Mrs. Greeve said sadly. But she looked with interest at what her daughter had set out, and presently she began to do reasonable justice to the meal, while Leslie sat on a low seat near the sofa and made encou
raging comments from time- to time. 42 "I'm glad you feel so hopeful and cheerful about things, darling," she said, looking with an air of melancholy indulgence at her daughter. "But then, of course," she added with a sigh, "all tills won't affect you so deeply as the rest of us.""Oh, Mother! Do you think I don't share the family anxieties?" "Of course, my dear. But you have other plans to make you happy. You haven't actually said anything about it, I know. But you and Oliver " "Oh, no!" Leslie cried sharply, and her mother stopped and looked at her in surprise. Leslie bit her lip and tried to smile quite casually. Deep down in her heart was a sort of relief that she had not been the only one to read the situation wrongly. If her mother too had thought Oliver loved her, then perhaps she had not been so foolish and self-deluding to allow herself that belief. But she could not allow her mother, or anyone else, to continue in that fond error. And so, after a moment, she managed to say "Don't make any romances between Oliver and any of your daughters, darling. He's just got engaged to some girl in Pencaster and her uncle is going to take him into partnership and everything in his particular garden is just fine.""But, my dear " Leslie wished her mother would not look quite so dismayed and astonished.. It recalled for an agonizing moment what she. herself had felt when Oliver first told her of Caroline Frenton. "I felt certain I thought you did too " Mrs. Greeve stopped again, and suddenly her whole manner changed. Her vague and elegant melancholy was gone, and for a mohient she became any mother anxious over her hurt child. "Was it a great shock to you, darling?" she asked, so simply and tenderly that Leslie put her head down against her mother's arm for a long minute and was silent. "s y'' "One gets over these things," she said at last, without 43 looking up. "You mustn't think my heart's broken or anything like that." Somehow she must minimize things if she were to save her mother further anxiety. "But I was very fond of him, of course. More like a sister perhaps." She even forced herself to say the hated word. "But I was rather shaken when he told me." "When did he tell you?" "This evening." . "Oh, dear " Mrs. Greeve stroked the bright head against her arm. "Everything seems to be happening at once." "Maybe it's better that way, so that they can cancel each other out," Leslie suggested, with an unsteady laugh. "I wish there were something to help cancel out the shock your father has had," Mrs. Greeve said with a sigh. "Oh I meant to tell you. Reid had a talk with me. He has an idea that Father ought to have at least some of Great-Aunt Tabitha's money. He says he has a moral right to it." Her mother made no scornful protests about that, as Moriey and even Leslie herself had done. She thoughtfully considered what her daughter had reported."He is right, of course," she said finally. "But I doubt if your father will see things that way. His pride has been terribly hurt over being omitted from the will, quite .apart from the financial disaster involved. I don't think he'd agree to take money from a stranger, even in the present dreadful situation." "Reid isn't exactly a stranger," Leslie found herself saying. Her mother regarded her consideringly, as though she were mentally measuring her husband's obstinacy against that of the newcomer. But when she spoke what she said was, "I wish he'd fall in love with Kate." "Mother, what an extraordinary thing to say!" "And she with him, of course. Then he could marry her, and it would keep all the money in the family without hurting your father's pride. Or Morley's," she added as an afterthought. "Moriey is going to be very difficult too." "Yes, I know. He's shown signs of it already." "Well it's hard for him," Morley's mother said with a sigh. And they were both silent, thinking what it must be like to be the one young man in the family and virtually helpless in this crisis. "Has your father had any supper?" Mrs. Greeve asked at last. "No, I don't think so." !, "Then I'd better go and see what I can do with him." i And in one graceful movement Mrs. Greeve rose from ' ' the sofa.' And Leslie, picking up the tray and preparing to ' follow her, wondered if, after all, their mother were quite such a sweet and helpless creature as they all supposed. Or was it that those very soft and feminine women had hidden strength and understanding where their own were concerned? Leslie returned the tray to the kitchen, noticed that it was past Alma's bedtime, and routed out her younger sister and despatched her, protesting, to bed. Then she went to her own room where, for half an hour at least, she could be alone with her thoughts and take mental stock of all that had happened on this most momentous day of her life.Someone knocked on the door just then, and she called, "Come in" and then sat up and opened her eyes as Katherine came in. "Hello." Katherine dropped down gracefully on the end of Leslie's bed. "I just thought I'd like a sisterly exchange of ideas. At the moment, I find it difficult to realize that I'm still myself." Leslie smiled. "I'd just come round to thinking the same thing, and trying to decide what the future looked like. By the. way" and she admired the casualness of her own voice as she spoke "I forgot to tell you all, with so 45 much more going on in the family circle, Oliver has just become engaged." "Oliver!" Katherine sat up and gave her sister an odd glance. "To whom?" "A girl in Pencaster of whom I've never heard. She's called Caroline Frenton, and her-uncle's taking Oliver into partnership." "How extraordinary. I always rather thought he might marry you." "Did you? So did I when I was about seventeen," Leslie said, and laughed quite naturally. "Oh, it was like that, was it?" Katherine dismissed the affair carelessly. "I'm glad it went no deeper." Then she rolled over on her back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "Now the family fortunes have failed, I suppose you and I are going to have to think seriously about finding rich husbands." "Or good jobs." "I'm not the stuff of which career-women are made, myself," Katherine said, and laughed. "I shall'concentrate on the rich husband." Leslie was silent. And in the silence they both heard a car coming up the drive. "There's one rich possibility approaching the house at the moment," Leslie remarked dryly, thinking of what her mother had said. "I know. But I don't think I could fall in love with him." "You're asking rather a lot, aren't you?" Leslie said with a smile. "A rich husband and a love match." When Katherine finally rose to go, and declared that she was suddenly very sleepy, Leslie got up too and said, "I think I'll run downstairs for ten minutes. If Mother and Father haven't been talking to Reid, he'll think it queer and unfriendly that no one bothers even to say good night to him." "All right. You go and look after his wounded feelings," Katherine replied with a laugh, and she departed to her own room. 46 Leslie went rather slowly downstairs. The house was very quiet now, but there was a light still on in the drawing-room and the door stood half open. For a moment she thought the room was empty. But when she came in, she saw that he was standing by one of the big windows, looking out into the darkened garden. He could not- have noticed her footsteps, or else he was very deep in thought, because she was half-way across the room before he turned rather sharply to face her. "I'm sorry. Did I startle you? I'm afraid my steps didn't sound much on this carpet." "No. I saw your reflection in the window-pane." She came over to stand beside him, and looked out into the night. "Did you have a nice drive?" "Very, thank you." She felt, rather than saw, that he was looking down at her with amused attention and, though she would not glance up at him, her social conscience stirred a little within her, so that she said, "I hope you haven't been all on your own since you came in." "No. I had a talk with your parents." "Oh?" She did glance up then. "With any result?" He smiled wryly. "I discovered you were right when you said your father had his pride if you call that getting results." "You mean he wouldn't listen to your proposition about about the money?" "Np. But I hardly expected him to at first. I suppose I can consider that I won a minor victory, however, in that he pressed me to stay on here some while. As he gets to know me better, he may change his mind a little." "And you're prepared to stay on here, just in the hope that he will presently agree to accept some of your money? You're an extraordinary man," she said slowly. "That isn't my only reason for wishing to stay." 47 "No? I'm afraid you'll find it rather dull here. We're nearly twenty miles from a town of any size." "I know. Pencaster, isn't it?" "Yes." She glanced enquiringly at him. "Did you go there this evening?" "No. But I knew it was near here when I came." "How odd you shoul
d have heard of it. It isn't of any special importance, you know. Just a rather nice market town, with a slightly smarter population than that usually implies." "Is that so?" "How did you hear of it?" He hesitated a moment. Then he said, . "I was engaged to a girl who came from there." "You were Were you?" Somehow it surprised her profoundly that he should have been engaged, or that, having been so, he had not piloted (or driven) the affair to a successful conclusion. "Is that the other reason why you are interested in staying on here?" she enquired, before she could stop herself. He smiled, but again he hesitated. "It could be. I have a certain natural curiosity about her, let us say," "Was it all a good while ago?" "About a year." Something hard in his voice told her that he was recalling a period which had meant a great deal to him, and which even now could not be resigned without pain: With her own unfortunate experience so fresh in her mind, she felt a little throb of sympathy for him, and perhaps that sounded in her voice as she said, "Did she leave you?" He nodded. "I'm sorry. It hurt a lot, didn't it?" "Like hell," he said, but. he grinned at her ruefully. Leslie sighed. "I know. It does." "Do you mean that you really know?" he enquired. "Or was that just a general comment?" She withdrew quickly into her shell again. 48 ? "Oh, I wasn't thinking of any personal experience, I if that's what you mean.""That's what I meant," he agreed.She. was anxious to shift the talk from her own : affairs, and so she asked with more curiosity than she might otherwise have displayed,"Are you hoping to win her back?""My dear, I'm taking this admirable opportunity of exploring the position, that's all.""I see." She looked out of the darkened window again, and then back at him. "If it's any help to bring her here, or use us as a background -"He interrupted with a slight laugh which sounded fff, friendly. "That's sweet of you. A family background mightH" certainly give me a little more stability in Caroline's I: eyes, I suppose. She. disapproved of my independent, t lone-wolf existence." I Leslie swallowed slightly, and a faint, superstitious ; chill touched her. ; "Did you say her name was Caroline?" He frowned. "Did I mention her name? I didn't mean to. But it is ; Caroline." ; "Not Caroline Frenton, by any chance?"For a long moment he stared at her, his eyes slightly narrowed, as though he suspected some sort of trap. Then he said, "How did you know?""I didn't. It just seemed inevitable," Leslie murmured under her breath. "I don't understand." His voice was cold, and no longer friendly. "Do you know Caroline?""No. Only of her. She became engaged today to to someone I know very well.""I see," he said. And then, almost casually, "Wasthat why you were crying so bitterly when I found you this evening?" 49
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