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

by Mazo de La Roche

  Alayne said, “And I suppose you and Mr. Fennel believe that divine guidance led you to the very spot where Roma was.”

  “why not?”

  “And I suppose you think she should be rewarded for what she has done. Oh, Renny, we’re too different! We can’t feel the same about anything.”

  “We can feel the same about our relief, can’t we? Upon my soul — I think you might try.”

  She stretched out her hand, caught his and kissed it. “I shall be as happy as you, if you will send Roma away. But I will never leave my room while she is under this roof. My nerves won’t stand it.” She buried her face in the pillow. Hoarse sobs tore her throat.

  “Very well,” he said resignedly. “I will ask Meg to take her for a while.” He went to the door.

  “Forever, I tell you! I won’t have her here.”

  He went down the stairs and met Wragge in the hall. “I thought, sir,” Wragge said, “I’d better lay the tea in the library, as there seems to be a conference going on in the drawing-room. Everything is ready, sir.”

  “Right. We’ll be there directly.” He went into the drawing-room and closed the door behind him. Wragge at once applied his ear to the keyhole.

  Finch had told Wakefield what had happened. The two were standing in a corner together. Maurice and Patience were together by a window, their young faces embarrassed yet inquisitive. The two uncles, Meg and Piers, were in a group about Roma who stood pale and composed, looking from one face to another as they questioned her.

  “It seems clear,” Ernest said, “that the child thought she was doing a benevolent thing.”

  “You know,” Meg added, “it is just the sort of thing Eden might have done, half mischievous and half kindhearted. I think Roma is very like dear Eden.”

  Piers said, with a grin, “If Eden ever had got his hands on those notes, he’d never have parted with them.”

  Wakefield flushed and called out from where he stood:

  “That’s a lie. Eden was the most generous chap I’ve ever known.”

  “Good for you,” Finch said, under his breath.

  “I never saw any signs of generosity in him,” said Piers.

  Wakefield retorted with heat, “That is because you shut your eyes to all the good in him. I can never forget how he gave me the last money he ever earned.”

  “He knew he had no further use for it,” said Piers.

  “I am glad,” Ernest said, “that Wakefield shows a spirit of gratitude. It is all too rare. On my part, I never forget a benefit given.”

  All eyes now turned to Renny, standing just inside the door.

  “How is she?” asked Nicholas. “Feeling better?”

  “She’s pretty well upset.”

  “No wonder. Poor girl, she’s been feeling wretched.”

  Meg exclaimed, “But why, in the name of Heaven, can’t she stop feeling wretched! People who go on hugging their emotions to them are beyond me. Why can’t she rejoice with the rest of us that the mystery is solved? I feel ten years younger. Why should Alayne make a scene?”

  “She’s at the end of her tether,” said Piers. “No one knows better than I do what she has been through.”

  “Well, I must say that sounds queer to me,” returned his sister. “As though you could know better than Renny, when he was the cause of it all.”

  “That is just why I know better. I saw it from the outside.”

  “whether you see things from the inside or the outside, you always know better than anyone else,” she smiled ironically.

  “whatever happens,” said Piers, “you see things strictly from your own point of view. Other people’s don’t exist for you.”

  They stared at each other truculently, their fine clear eyes prominent. By the window their two children stood looking on, Patience hotly partisan for her mother, burning to say something on her side; Maurice embarrassed, yet faintly amused.

  Renny spoke, with his hand on the doorknob. “Rags has laid tea in the library. We’d better go.”

  Ernest drew back. “In the library! I am afraid that won’t suit me. Already I have a slight cold. I don’t like to leave the fire. I don’t think there is a fire in the library. I’m sure there isn’t. Will you please see, Renny?”

  Renny strode across the hall. Returning to the doorway he said, “No, there’s none.”

  “Then I can’t go. Never mind. Never mind. It doesn’t signify.”

  “what has happened to you, Uncle Ernest?” asked Piers. “No one is generally more keen for their tea than you.”

  “I found Alayne’s weeping very upsetting.”

  “All the more reason for taking your tea.”

  Meg exclaimed, “Poor old dear! I’ll carry your tea to you here. I’ll bring my own as well. We shall have ours by the fire together — away from all dissension.”

  “I want my tea by the fire,” said Nicholas.

  “You have no cold.” Ernest regarded him with mild asperity. “Just now you were complaining of the heat.”

  “I want my tea by the fire.”

  “We’ll carry it all in here,” said Renny. “Come along, Mooey and Patience. Get busy.”

  They sprang to help. Roma gave a little laugh of pleasure and ran after them. Meg settled down to be waited on. Piers looked thoughtfully after Roma. He said:

  “That’s the strangest kid I’ve ever known. She doesn’t realize in the least the enormity of what she has done. I think she’s about six in her mind.”

  “You’re wrong,” said Finch. “Her mentality is nearer sixteen.”

  “I agree with Finch,” Meg said. “Roma is a very intelligent child. She grows more like Eden in her looks. I shan’t be surprised if she becomes a poet.”

  Piers blew out his cheeks. “whatever she may become, she is a little troublemaker now. She has nearly wrecked Renny’s life — to say nothing of Alayne’s.”

  “That is all over, thank God,” said Ernest. “when the tea comes in, Renny must tell us all that happened from the very beginning. One’s mind gets a little confused with all the talk.”

  Maurice and Patience appeared, carrying two trays. The one on which sat the stout silver teapot with a silver robin perched on its lid, was placed in front of Meg. She said with a happy smile, “How natural it is for me to be pouring tea at Jalna again. Tea always is a pleasant ceremony to me and I have a theory that it never should be poured except by one who really relishes it. Alayne doesn’t even like tea. She drinks one cup but I’ve heard her say many a time that she could very well do without it.”

  Renny asked, “Roma, where is Adeline?”

  “With Wright in the stable. There’s a little foal.”

  Renny put a cup of tea and a plate with bread and butter and a small cake on it into her hands. He said, “Take them and run away somewhere. We want to talk.” He opened the door for her and she passed under his arm with a docile glance up at him. He closed the door after her, came back and stood by the fire.

  Nicholas had swallowed the first cup of tea and now, wiping his moustache with an appreciative “Ha!” he said:

  “Good idea to put the child out. Now we can talk. Renny, I can’t tell you how glad I am. Many a time I thought you would lose your wits. Now we know you’re sound. Come and give me your hand.”

  Renny came and shook the shapely old hand. His lip trembled. For a moment he felt unmanned. “I’ve worried a lot,” he said.

  Ernest, not to be outdone by his brother, said, “Some of the Courts were not quite right in the head. My mother had a young brother, Timothy —”

  Piers interrupted, “This affair has been enough to send anyone bughouse. That kid is not to be let off scot-free. Something must be done about her.”

  “That is what I want to talk about,” said Renny. “Alayne refuses to let her live on at Jalna.”

  “what?” exclaimed Nicholas, his hand cupping his ear. “what’s that you say?”

  “I say that Alayne cannot bear the thought of being in the same house with Ro
ma. Alayne’s nerves are at breaking point, poor girl.”

  “whose house is it, I should like to know?” asked Meg. “Yours or hers? Roma has never been any trouble to Alayne. Roma would never be a trouble to anyone.”

  “Oh, yeah?” said Piers. “what about this affair?”

  “She meant only good. You could see that in her little face.”

  “Alayne won’t have her here,” said Renny. “She says she will not leave her room while Roma is under the roof.”

  “This is a pretty to-do,” said Nicholas.

  “She’ll get over that feeling,” Ernest added. “A night’s sleep does wonders in calming one down.”

  “She won’t calm down,” Renny said, “till Roma goes. Meggie, I am wondering if you will take Roma — for a time at least.”

  Meg’s face fell. “Take a child into my house, when I have all my own work to do! Oh, I’m afraid it would be too much for me.”

  Piers quoted, laughing, “Roma would never be a trouble to anyone.”

  “If you feel like that,” retorted his sister, “take her yourself.”

  “We have no room for her. You have two extra bedrooms.”

  “As to the work,” said Renny. “Roma makes her own bed. And doesn’t Patience help you?”

  Patience, who did most of the work, now said, “I think we could manage very well, Mummy.”

  “wherever she goes,” said Renny, “I shall expect to pay for her keep.”

  “I’m not thinking of cost,” said Meg. “Such a thought never entered my head. But to please you — to help make things smooth for you — I’ll take her. I know how Alayne is when she’s roused. Roma shall come with me this very evening.”

  “Thank you, Meggie.” He gave her a warm look.

  “It’s nothing,” she declared. “It’s nothing to what I would do for you. You know, Renny, I feel that every one of us should do everything possible to make up to you for all you’ve been through.”

  “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 t
o 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.”