Authors: Mazo de la Roche
Tags: #FIC045000 – FICTION / Sagas
The two uncles smiled their welcome at the advancing pair, for a call from them was an unexpected pleasure on such an afternoon.
“Meggie does look hot, poor creature,” observed Ernest, “but then she’s getting so stout.”
“Maurice is heavy, too. He looks older.” Nicholas then called out:
“You are courageous! Come and have some barley water. There’s nothing better for cooling one.”
“Oh dear, oh dear!” cried Meg. “This is the hottest day yet! But how comfortable you are here! There’s always a breeze stirring at Jalna. It’s so different from the hollow where we are stuck.” She sank into a chair.
Maurice, dropping to the grass, uttered a deprecating grunt. “I can’t feel much difference,” he said. “It’s hellish everywhere.”
Nicholas quickly drained his glass and refilled it for Maurice, his handsome old hand with the heavy seal ring shaking a good deal, so that some of the liquid was spilt on the rustic table.
Meg took up Alayne’s glass. “Whose is this?” she asked. “Alayne’s? Well, she won’t mind if I finish it. Oh, how delicious !… And how cool!”
“It must have been very hot coming through the ravine,” said Ernest, fanning her. “You should have waited till later in the day.”
Maurice replied—“As a matter of fact, we wanted to get here before Renny returned. We’ve something we want to talk over with you.”
Meg refilled her glass to the brim. “Yes, Maurice, tell them about it quickly, while we are alone. For I suppose Alayne will soon be out. I’ve never known anyone who seemed to be always on deck as she is.”
“She’s a good girl, a good girl,” said Nicholas.
Ernest leaned forward with intense interest but still fanning Meg.
“Do tell us what you have in mind. As you say, we shan’t be alone for long.”
Maurice gave a grim laugh. “She’ll soon have to know all about it. Perhaps she will be able to solve the mystery.”
Ernest drew a deep breath. “The mystery! What mystery? I do hope there is nothing wrong.”
“As far as I am concerned,” answered Maurice, “there is nothing wrong. As for Renny—he’s got his own way—as he usually does. He’s bought the land I was subdividing—lock, stock, and barrel. Paid me cash for it!”
“Good God!” ejaculated Nicholas. “But how could he? Where did he get the money?”
Ernest exclaimed—“But what about the lots you had sold? There were two bungalows going up! What about them?”
“Oh, they were barely begun. But he bought them and the lots too. He bought everything. The first time any land has been added to Jalna for a good many years, eh?”
“Well, well, well,” said Nicholas, grinning with satisfaction, “this beats all! I must say I admire him for that. A slice of Vaughanlands for Jalna, eh?”
“Mamma would have been pleased to have seen a stop put to those bungalows,” said Ernest. “I’ve known for several days that Renny had something up his sleeve. Some scheme or other. And I worried a little, for I don’t always see eye to eye with him in his schemes. When did the transaction take place?”
“This morning. He came over in a most hilarious mood. He laughed and ragged me about the bungalows for quite a while before he came to the point. Then suddenly he got rather disagreeable. Demanded what was my lowest price for the damned land. I told him and he wrote me a cheque on the spot. Then he told me that he had bought the four lots and the buildings. Of course, I’m awfully glad for your sakes and ours too, but I’m wondering how it all came about. Meg thought perhaps you’d know.”
“There is only one way,” said Ernest, “and that is Alayne’s private means. She must have handed that over to him.”
“Well, and I think she should,” said Meg. “If I had money I should consider it my duty to give it to Maurice at such a time as this. A wife must sacrifice herself.”
They saw Alayne coming toward them across the lawn. Temperate greetings were exchanged.
“Shall I tell her?” Ernest had whispered, and Meg had nodded an affirmative. He therefore said, with a playful air:
“Alayne, dear, we’ve heard the news! And we’re delighted, every one of us. It’s such a relief to think that the subdivision is no longer necessary.”
“All we wonder,” said Meg, “is that you didn’t do it before.”
“Do what before?”
“Why, buy the land and the lots before!”
“I’m quite in the dark,” Alayne returned, sitting down on the seat beside Nicholas. There was both coldness and apprehension in her voice.
“Oh, well,” said Maurice, “if you don’t want us to talk about it, we won’t.”
“I have not the faintest idea what you refer to. Perhaps if you explained I should understand.”
The other four looked at each other blankly. Then Nicholas said:
“Maurice has just been telling us that Renny has bought the land he was subdividing as well as the lots already sold. We thought you would probably have talked it over with him.”
“It is news to me,” said Alayne, and a flush came into her cheeks.
“But where else could he have got the money?” asked Meg.
“I don’t know, I’m sure.” She spoke with intense irritation.
Nicholas demanded of Maurice—“Why didn’t you ask him plump and plain? I think you’d have been quite justified.”
Ernest asked gently—“Have you cashed the cheque?”
Maurice grinned. “Yes, I went into the bank at once. Not that I had any doubts of him!”
“Well, I should hope not!” exclaimed Meg hotly.
“Of course not, of course not,” Ernest hastened to say, “but it’s all so extraordinary! I thought perhaps the heat— it’s very intense—might have gone to his head. He’s really been rather odd lately.”
“The money was there in hard cash,” said Maurice. “In the mood he was, I didn’t like to ask him where he got it…”
“I know!” cried Meg. “Finch!”
The certainty of this conclusion pricked the bubble of their conjecture. They only wondered it had not been thought of before. Alayne was aghast.
“But,” she said, “Finch has so little left of his grandmother’s money! Not more than fifteen thousand dollars, I think. It would take all of it, wouldn’t it?”
“Renny gave me a cheque for twelve thousand dollars,” said Maurice tersely.
“What a pity he is not here!” cried Ernest.
“We could call him on the telephone,” suggested Meg.
Nicholas said—“I cannot quite believe that Renny would borrow from Finch. He’s always been against touching that money. I know he wanted Finch to buy the land himself and that Finch refused. No—I think we’re off the scent! I think he’s got it in some other way.”
“May he not have sold some stocks of his own?” suggested Ernest.
“Any stocks he has are of little account now,” said Maurice. “But he holds a mortgage or two, doesn’t he?”
Nicholas rumbled—“Can’t get anything out of those. He told me so. And he’d never foreclose unless Jalna itself was at
stake.” He turned his eyes toward the house steeped in sunshine. He asked of Alayne then:
“Who was it on the telephone?”
“Sarah. Finch is staying a little longer with her.”
Ernest frowned. “I don’t think it is quite proper. People will be talking.”
Meg exclaimed—“I wonder if it might possibly be Sarah! She is such a dear girl! I’m sure it would make her very happy to help Renny.”
The eyes of the sisters-in-law met with only half-concealed dislike. Alayne said:
“I hope and pray that she has done nothing of the sort.”
“She never would,” said Nicholas, “without good security. That girl is as shrewd as the devil.”
“But however Renny got the money,” cried Ernest, “what a relief to think we shall not have those terrible neighbours!”
“And a new piece of land is added to the estate,” said his brother. “That’s very nice. Augusta will be pleased.”
The sound of horse’s hooves moving in a walk came to them from the drive. The group on the lawn turned their heads as one. Between the branches of the evergreens they saw the gleam of a bright chestnut flank and in a moment horse and rider appeared and hesitated before turning in the direction of the stable.
Nicholas called out impatiently:
“Come here! We want you. We’re on tenterhooks of excitement.”
Renny turned the mare’s head in their direction, crossed the intervening stretch of lawn, and slid from the saddle. A glance at the faces about him discovered on what their minds were bent… An aeroplane was flying overhead and he raised
his eyes to its swift glitter and stood thus, reins on arm, as though enthralled.
“One would think,” observed Meg, “that you’d never seen an aeroplane before!”
“I’ve never seen a prettier bit of gliding.”
Ernest peered skyward. “It hurts my eyes,” he said.
“Come, come, come,” urged Nicholas. “Enlighten us about this amazing deal. You can’t get out of that, you know. Maurice and Meg have been telling how you’ve saved the situation—and acquired new acres for Jalna into the bargain.”
The aeroplane had disappeared. Renny turned his gaze enquiringly to Maurice. “What have you told them?” he asked.
Maurice’s tone was impatient. “All I know. That you bought the land and paid cash for it, and are going to tear down what has been built on it.”
Renny grinned genially at his uncles but avoided the eyes of his sister and his wife. He said:
“Well, then, there’s nothing more to tell. It’ll be good fun pulling those shacks down, won’t it?”
Ernest stretched out his hand and clasped Renny’s.
“My dear boy, this is a happy moment for me!”
The slender white hand and the muscular brown one gripped.
“I’m glad of that, Uncle Ernie.”
Alayne, unable to contain herself any longer, exclaimed: “It strikes me that you are all very optimistic. I am wondering what is to be made out of that land in return for the investment.”
“It’s good land,” said Maurice, “but I don’t think Renny bought it for crops.”
“He bought it,” said Meg, “for an ideal.”
“Then how,” asked Alayne, her voice trembling with anger, “is he to repay his debt?”
“He has probably arranged that,” returned Meg stiffly “I suppose it depends on whom he borrowed from.”
Nicholas sent a sudden penetrating glance at Renny.
“Meg was wondering,” he said, “if it might be Sarah.”
Renny sprang up and caught the mare, which was now cropping the grass near them, by the bridle. She had one of her feet planted on the flower border. He spoke roughly to her and cuffed her head. She bit at him and reared. They showed their teeth at each other, but there was a subtle understanding between them. She reared, danced, dipped, like a plunging ship while he held her bridle, cuffed her, encouraged her. It was upsetting for those about the table, but it made them certain that it was Sarah who had given him the loan. He had not been able to face them.
But his expression, when he rejoined the circle, was brazen. “Yes, it was Sarah,” he admitted.
“I’d never have believed it of her,” cried Nicholas. “She’s a trump!”
“To think of Sarah coming to the rescue!” said Ernest.
Meg looked complacent. “I was the one who guessed.”
Alayne stared at Renny, dismayed.
Before there was further comment Piers appeared suddenly from the direction of the stables. His face was crimson and his thin shirt clung in damp patches to his body. He cast a quick look about and said:
“So you’ve heard the news!”
“Yes,” answered Ernest; “and it has made us very happy.”
“A great day for us,” added Nicholas.
Piers was bewildered. “Happy! A great day! You must be talking about something else. I was speaking of Mrs. Lebraux
losing her place.” He turned to Renny. “I suppose you know all about it.”
Renny nodded.
Meg exclaimed—“Oh, the poor thing! Whatever will she do? Who told you, Piers?”
“Stone, who holds the mortgage. He’s foreclosed. He came to see me just now about buying some corn. He mentioned it quite casually, as though he expected I’d know all about it, and then told me that Renny had bought the house from him. He’d been going to tear it down. What are you going to do with it, Renny?”
There was too much mystery in all this. There was something sinister in it. They looked at each other, they looked at Renny, and waited with misgiving in their hearts.
“Well—” He tried to speak confidentially, as though he expected their approval, but how could he tell them what he had in mind to do?
“Do sit down,” said Meg, “and tell us all about it!”
He dropped to the grass beside her chair. Piers remained standing.
“Well—” he repeated, and began to laugh to drown out his own voice. He looked toward his mare as though hopeful that she might again offer distraction, but she stood immobile, her eyes fixed on him, enquiring like the others.
Meg said—“I’ve always hated this way of laughing when there’s nothing to laugh at.”
Nicholas, chin in hand, stared compellingly at him.
He ceased laughing. His face hardened and he said abruptly:
“I’m going to move the house from the fox farm and put it on the land I’ve just bought from Maurice.”
For a moment they could scarcely take in his meaning.
Ernest stammered—“But—I don’t see—but why in the world should you do that? Why it would look appalling there! It’s a particularly ugly house.”
Nicholas said—“It would look as bad as—even worse than—the bungalows. You can’t do it! It’s impossible!”
“What is the idea?” asked Piers. “Are Mrs. Lebraux and Pauline to live there?”
Renny looked up at his brother challengingly.
“Have you anything to say against them as neighbours?”
“But the foxes!” interrupted Meg. “They wouldn’t bring their foxes, would they?”
“Of course they’ll bring their foxes.”
“But it would be horrible! A pack of yapping, evil-smelling wild animals. And the hideous house! And the more hideous wire enclosures—” She turned to Maurice. “We’re against that, aren’t we?”
Maurice replied—“I’d never have sold him the land if I’d known of it. It will depreciate both our properties.”
Nicholas heaved himself forward on the garden seat and leaned toward Renny.
“It’s doubtless very compassionate of you,” he said sonorously, “to have thought of helping Mrs. Lebraux and her daughter in this way but—I forbid it—yes, I must forbid it in the name of my mother, who would turn over in her grave if she knew of it.”