Books 13-16: Return to Jalna / Renny's Daughter / Variable Winds at Jalna / Centenary at Jalna

by Mazo de La Roche

  All was put in order for her. The uncles returned to their rooms. Her father and the dogs went out and now, the rain having ceased, she opened the window, brought the carpet sweeper, passed it violently a number of times across the rug, then used quite half a bottle of polish in rubbing up the furniture. All the while she sang, in a fairly good voice though noticeably off key, the colour deepening in her cheeks, even her hair seeming to take some part in the activity. She felt that a new era in her life was beginning. She felt full of good promise. The day was all too short for what she had to do. She saw, stretching before her, a life teeming with pleasant things to do, once she could finish with school. Always would she sleep in that room, always have horses to ride, dogs to love, puppies to nurse. Always, always would there be her father. The rest of the family would be there too, for she loved them all dearly and never would part with one of them, but her father rose above them all, like the figurehead of a ship.

  She still was in the room putting the finishing touches on it when Alayne and Archer returned. Archer had been a trying companion, with his endless questions and restless body. Alayne was tired. From the draught in the hall she at once perceived that door and window of the grandmother’s room were open. When she saw what was going on she was astounded.

  “Adeline, whatever are you doing?” she cried, looking as though she were witnessing some calamity.

  Adeline thought “why need she look like that?” She said, “I’ve moved in. Daddy and the uncles have given me this room for my own.”

  Archer advanced toward her with his mouth wide open. “Look,” he said, “my tooth!” With his mouth stretched so, he enunciated horribly.

  “I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous,” said Alayne. “This is no sort of room for a young girl. Who said you could have it?”

  “Daddy and the uncles. I’ve wanted it — ever since Daddy came home. Now it’s to be my own always.”

  “Look!” cried Archer. “My tooth! It’s been filled.”

  “I should have been consulted,” said Alayne. “I cannot understand how your father could consent to such an arrangement. But, if he did consent, he should have had the room emptied out and thoroughly cleaned.”

  “It has been cleaned. I’ve done it.”

  “You! You don’t know the first thing about such a job. You have just stirred up the dust and smeared everything with furniture polish. It’s disgusting. Where are all the clothes that were in the drawers?”

  “Stored in the wardrobe.”

  “And you are to sleep in the room with them?”

  “I don’t mind. I like them. I’ve carried down all my clothes and laid them in the drawers, neatly too. Look.” She opened a drawer.

  “And were the drawers washed out first?”

  “No, Mummie.”

  Alayne uttered an exclamation of disgust.

  Archer placed himself directly in front of Adeline, his mouth still open, his jaws aching. “Look,” he got out, “my tooth!”

  “Well,” said Alayne, “I’ll say nothing more. I was not consulted. You took good care to wait till my back was turned. Come, Archer.”

  He gave a scream. He could not shut his mouth. He had held it wide open so long he had got a crick in his jaw. He made terrifying sounds when Alayne touched him. In terror she ran into the hall, calling for Renny. He was just entering the side door.

  “Archer’s jaw is dislocated!” she cried.

  Renny sat down and took his son between his knees. He took hold of his jaw and pressed it back into place. “There,” he said.

  “Is it all right?” asked Alayne in a quavering voice. “Hadn’t we better send for the doctor?”

  “How does it feel, Archer?” asked Renny.

  He stretched his mouth wide. “Look at my tooth,” he said, forgetting all about his jaw.

  “Oh, what a day!” Alayne rose to go upstairs. Renny put his arm about her and half-carried her. She felt tired out.

  “Poor little girl,” he comforted. “The trouble with you is that you take things too seriously.”

  “I know. I’ve taken this family too seriously — right from the first.”

  He looked down into her pale face. “what do you mean?” he asked.

  “It would take me twenty years to explain.”

  He laughed. “Don’t try, my darling. Just relax and be happy.”

  She did make up her mind to trouble herself no more over the grandmother’s room. Let them do as they liked with it. Let Adeline live amidst the moth-eaten garments of a centenarian, if it pleased her. Alayne had a hot bath, put on one of her prettiest dresses for dinner and listened, with what equanimity she could, to the old uncles’ praises of Adeline, to Adeline’s ecstasies over her new quarters and Renny’s frequently voiced satisfaction in the entire situation. As often happened, Finch was the only one who agreed with Alayne, but he did so by no more than an amused smile when their eyes met. Still, it was a support.

  Roma had been having a piano lesson from Miss Pink and had remained to eat high tea with her. When she returned and found that Adeline had removed from their room she was delighted, for she wanted the room to herself. Not that she did not enjoy Adeline’s companionship but she liked the privacy of a room she could call her own, of which she could lock the door, in which she could arrange for her own pleasure and hers alone, those treasures she cherished.

  In the twilight the two young girls went to Adeline’s new room and continued the work of settling in. With laughing and temerity they handled things which formerly they had not dared touch. An observer who had loved old Adeline would have been driven to remember her sardonic humour in order to bear with this peremptory and youthful fingering of her intimate belongings. Roma lounged on the bed, fanning herself with a feathered fan with carved ivory sticks. Adeline dressed herself in a purple velvet tea-gown and placed an ornate lace cap on her head. She lifted the stuffed figure of the parrot from his perch and set it on the arm of the old lady’s wing chair. She seated herself and, assuming a cracked voice, peered at the bird, exclaiming, “Pretty Boney, pretty Boney! Have a cracker, Boney!”

  Roma fell back on the bed in an ecstasy of delight.

  So they amused themselves till, hearing voices in the hall, they pushed the things back into the wardrobe in a panic. Piers knocked on the door. Adeline, with dignity, opened it.

  “Hullo,” he said, “I hear you’ve been allowed to have this room. It’s an honour, I can tell you.”

  “I know, Uncle Piers. I know it’s an honour,” she answered rather breathlessly.

  “Now understand,” he said, his chin firm, “you are never, on any account, to meddle with my grandmother’s belongings. Later on they must be packed in boxes and carried to the attic. In the meantime none of you children are to touch them.”

  With their eyes held by his, they promised.

  “That’s right,” he said. “And if ever I find you’ve meddled with them — why, you’ll be sorry.”

  “Yes, Uncle Piers,” they agreed in unison.

  XVII

  THE THEFT

  RENNY HAD GIVEN much thought to Mr. Clapperton and to the closely looming village of Clappertown. In fact, he thought of little else. In these early days of his return, when he had expected to be completely happy, Mr. Clapperton’s presence at Vaughanlands hung over him like a well-groomed cloud. He and Piers talked of him by the hour but Piers could offer no counsel save resignation. The resignation of all the family to the catastrophe was a mystery to Renny. He felt that something might be done about it, if only he could discover that something. But no amount of pondering brought revelation.

  In the meantime a new little house was brightly springing into view. In spite of the obstacles to wartime building, Eugene Clapperton seemed able to get both materials and builders. Renny would perch on the boundary fence and watch the tiny settlement with malevolent interest. The little trees in the little street were growing fast. The baby in the nearest house was screaming louder. The radio in the next lit
tle house never stopped grinding out raucous music. He pictured how, as the city grew, more and more people would be inclined to come here till at last there would be no privacy and no peace. He loved the old village of Weddles. It was enough.

  He had other things to worry about besides his neighbour’s activities. All his expenses had risen, yet his income was considerably less than it had been. Piers must have his share from the farmlands or he could not live. What a blessing that Mooey was to inherit Cousin Dermot’s fortune and what a pity he had not possession of it now. With help so scarce, the farm brought in less than before the war. With the big horse shows no longer held, the stables were only a loss. The Wragges had demanded higher wages and they were incorrigibly extravagant. It cost an excessive amount to run the table. Then there were Adeline’s school fees. It was an expensive school and there always were extras. Now he had promised Roma that she should go to school with Adeline. It was no more than fair, he thought. Alayne deplored this added outlay but in her heart she was deeply glad that Roma would be out of the house for the greater part of the year. Though Roma was so quiet, Alayne always was conscious of her presence. She seemed always to be coming upon Roma unexpectedly. Both would start. Then the child would fade away but soon Alayne would come upon her again, looking at a book in the library — not reading but just handling it. Or she might find her peeping into a cabinet in the drawing-room or stealing a little biscuit or a lump of sugar from the sideboard. She was not an outdoor child like Adeline.

  Between brooding on Mr. Clapperton’s village and worrying over money matters, Renny was absentminded in these hot August days. On this particular morning he had promised to write a cheque for the grocer whose account had been rendered several times. However, he went off without doing it. Alayne sent Archer running after him.

  “Daddy!” shouted Archer. “You forgot to leave a cheque for Mummy. You promised and you forgot.”

  Renny halted on the driveway. “Tell her I’ll write it when I come back.”

  “She told me to say she wants it now.”

  “By Judas!” he exclaimed irritably, and flung back toward the house.

  Alayne met him in the hall. “I am very sorry to bring you back,” she said, with a certain crispness in her voice, “but I have promised the grocer to pay him today. He calls about eleven o’clock. You promised to write the cheque before you went out.”

  “I know, I know!” He seated himself at the writing table in the sitting room and took a book of blank cheques from the drawer. He added, “I can tell you that money is very scarce at the moment.”

  “when was it anything else?”

  With his eyes on the cheque he was writing, he said, “Alayne, these are exceptional times. It will be different after the war.”

  “It will never be different while so much money is spent on the stables. Even Piers says that the show horses should be sold.”

  “Oh, we’ve gone over all that!” he exclaimed.

  “It’s useless, I know, to reason with you about certain things.”

  He handed her the cheque.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but Mrs. Wragge tells me you’ve forgotten to give them their wages.”

  He struck his forehead. “what’s the matter with me?” he exclaimed. “I never used to be so absentminded.” He wrote a second cheque and put it in her hand.

  “Please let me see the cheques,” said Archer.

  “They are of no interest to you,” said Alayne.

  “I want to see how much you pay the grocer and how much you pay cook.”

  “That is not your affair, dear. Run out and play.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “Then read your book.”

  Archer took up the book without enthusiasm and trotted after Renny. Striding across the lawn, Renny asked, “what is the name of your book?”

  “why, it’s Robin Hood. It’s a lovely story. Don’t you remember Mummy bought it for me the day I went to the dentist?”

  “I’d forgotten.”

  Archer stared up at him inquisitively. “why is your memory so poor?” he asked.

  “Perhaps because of the bash I got on the head.”

  “I’m glad my memory is good. My grandfather, Professor Archer, had a wonderful memory. He never forgot anything.”

  “Probably he’d never had a bash on the head.”

  “May I come with you?”

  “No. I’m going to see Mr. Clapperton. But you may come as far as his gate.” He took the little boy’s hand. The dogs trotted importantly alongside. At a small gate in the boundary fence, Renny left them and followed the old familiar path to the familiar door. He knocked. It seemed to him that the knock sounded hollow through the house. He thought of Maurice Vaughan, his friend who had lived there, his untidy hair, his smile that had so lighted his rather heavy face, the pipe always in his hand. He thought of his sister Meg’s warm presence, of Patience as a child running to meet him. He was shown into Mr. Clapperton’s presence who greeted him with a frosty smile. He half-rose from the desk at which he was seated, then sank back, his expression so arrogant as to seem to enquire, “And what can I do for you, my good man?”

  Renny greeted him with determined cheerfulness and, when he was invited to, sat down. He said:

  “I came here this morning to see if we could talk over this affair in a more friendly spirit.” His grin, as he looked into Mr. Clapperton’s pale eyes, would have done credit to the wolf before he devoured Red Riding Hood’s grandmother.

  “I am always ready to discuss any affair with a neighbour, in that spirit, Colonel Whiteoak. But I must say you weren’t very friendly when you last called.”

  “I know I wasn’t. That’s why I’ve come back.”

  “If you’ve come here with any idea of making me change my mind, you are wasting your time.”

  “I only want to put your own case clearly before you. Will you object to that?”

  “No.”

  Renny Whiteoak regarded him almost kindly. “I think,” he said, “that you bought this property with the intention of settling down here for the rest of your life.”

  “I did.”

  “And you found the neighbourhood kindly disposed toward you?”

  “Until you appeared on the scene — yes.”

  Renny gave a short, triumphant laugh. “There,” he exclaimed, “you have hit the nail on the head at once! Till I came on the scene!”

  “what do you mean?”

  “I mean that I have a lot of influence here. I mean that, if you carry out this scheme of yours in opposition to me, you won’t have a friend in the neighbourhood. Not one member of my family will tolerate you.”

  Eugene Clapperton’s colour rose. “There are others.”

  “who?”

  “The Rector, for one.”

  “Good God! The Rector has baptized, married, or buried some one or other of all the family. My grandfather built the church. This is a small close community. You are nothing to anyone in it.”

  “You are mistaken, Colonel Whiteoak. The three young girls at the fox farm have a deep feeling for me. And I for them. I am the only person who had the initiative and the generosity to help that poor crippled girl.”

  Renny Whiteoak stared speechless.

  “Between you and me,” Eugene Clapperton burst out, “I hope, when she’s fully recovered, to make her my wife. Of course, this is in strict confidence.”

  “By Judas!” was all the master of Jalna could say.

  “So you see I have a stake in the community, and a very large one.”

  “Marry the girl or not, you can’t build that village. I’ll make it impossible to live in.”

  “what do you mean, sir?”

  “How would you like a fine healthy piggery built right at the boundary line — not fifty feet from the nearest house? I own the fields all down one side of your village. I’ll fill them with piggeries. I’ll build an incinerator and smoke you out.”

  Eugene Clapperton raised his voice so
high that it cracked. “You seem to forget,” he cried, “that there is such a thing as the law to protect peaceable citizens of this country. Well — I’ll get the protection of the law if you begin to threaten me or make nuisances for my tenants.”

  “The law couldn’t do a thing to stop me.”

  Eugene Clapperton smiled sarcastically. “We’ll see. You may find yourself with a heavy fine to pay. I guess that would put a crimp in you. Now, money is not scarce with me. I’ve plenty of it. I can afford to have the best lawyers to protect my interests. Just take a look at this, will you?” He placed his fingers on a pile of new bank notes that lay on the desk. “There’s a thousand dollars in that pile. It is to pay my workmen’s wages and for current expenses for which I require cash. I don’t want to boast, Colonel Whiteoak, but that’s a very small sum to me.”

  Renny stood up grinning. “I think I’ll go,” he said. “The impulse to kick your behind is becoming irresistible.”

  Mr. Clapperton drew back. Renny advanced a step. He intended nothing more forceful than a touch on Mr. Clapperton’s chest to emphasize his next words which, to judge by his expression, were to be of a jocular nature. But the look, the gesture, were intimidating to the other. He wheeled and left the room with a white face.

  He went into the dining room where Sidney Swift was sitting by the paper-strewn table. He raised his eyes as his employer entered.

  “what’s wrong?” he asked.

  “That man — that red-headed devil! I just had to leave the room. He was threatening me again. Go to him, Sidney, and order him out of the house. Tell him to get out!” He walked nervously about the room.

  Swift rose and, looking through the window, saw Renny Whiteoak cross the lawn.

  “He’s gone,” he said.

  Eugene Clapperton came to his side and peered also.

  “I won’t stand it!” he exclaimed. “I’ll have him arrested for breach of the peace. If he ever lays a finger on me —”