Authors: Mazo de la Roche
Tags: #FIC045000 – FICTION / Sagas
U
NRAVELLING
T
HE NEWS THAT
Finch had paid the mortgage, that Jalna stood liberated, foursquare to the winds, swept through the house from attic to basement. The house seemed conscious of the good news. It had a prideful air as though it spread its roof with a new assurance above the cherished beings beneath. It drank in the early summer sunshine. It hunched its gables against the beating summer storms. At night its walls re-echoed the cries of the whippoorwills, its windows reflected the lightning. In the mornings its chimneys sent up genial spirals of smoke.
The future master of Jalna thrived. His sister grew handsomer every day. Even Roma’s cheeks put on the colour of a wild rose and her spindling legs grew round and firm. Her hair became thick and lay on her head in a golden sheen.
The farmlands showed the promise of rich crops. The blossoms of the orchard trees were set in the seal of fruit. Piers boasted that not a foal, calf, or young pig had died. The hens seemed to delight in hatching large broods. Piers caught Meg in the very act of gliding about his poultry-house with a basket into which she was popping eggs for a setting of his pure-bred stock. She said that she was in a kind of haze from all that had transpired and scarcely knew what she was doing. He let her keep the eggs.
Word came from Wakefield that they might expect him in a few days. Renny had written to him of the paying off of the mortgage and it was understood that Wakefield could not rest till he had had a day with the family. He must join in the jubilation.
It was Nicholas who suggested that they should celebrate by a dinner party, to which all the family must come. This should coincide with Wakefield’s visit and should be given in honour of Finch — if Finch felt able to bear that honour.
Finch agreed, but he must not be asked to make a speech, even to this intimate few. He remembered his speech on his twenty-first birthday.
To Renny especially the thought of the dinner came most acceptably. He would be glad of the chance of a little display. The thought that Harriet Archer had known of the distress of his situation, his bitter need of money, had rankled within him. He wanted her to feel that he made no sacrifice in offering her a home. He wanted to impose on her mind the generous well-being of the old days at Jalna. He and Alayne talked over plans for the dinner. She thought he was being extravagant for a family party but delighted in seeing him extravagant. She wrote out as intricate a menu as she thought Mrs. Wragge could cope with. At Renny’s wish the best silver and Captain Whiteoak’s massive dinner service were brought out. At Finch’s wish even old friends were not invited. His confidence was too lately won. He could not face outsiders.
In these days the wonder of each awakening lay in his freedom. Sarah was gone. The fox farm was empty. Now he could wander as far afield as he chose without ever the fear of meeting her. She had said goodbye to none of them. She had gone away without a word the day after her interview with Renny. Removers had come and taken what she owned from the house. It still held the furniture the family had lent her. Already the grass of the lawn was growing long and the house beginning to look desolate. Finch went there one day, his mind full of confused thoughts, and peered in at the windows. He was surprised to see Ernest and Harriet Archer sitting on the couch in the living room in close conversation. Finch, startled, remembered his voyage to England in company with his uncles and how attentive Ernest had been to an American lady on board. Now here he was in obvious admiration of Alayne’s aunt. There was something in American women that appealed to him.
Finch went away without having been seen. He could not rest. Nothing he could do satisfied the urge of the new energy that was in him. But he had not found himself. In spite of the happiness, the peace he had given Renny, the sense of tranquility he had been able to give to Jalna, he had not found himself. He longed for the coming of Wakefield.
Two days later Wakefield came. They all had to acknowledge that the life of the monastery agreed with him. He looked healthier than they had ever seen him, and happier too. His eyes glowed with happiness. He could not look at you without smiling.
Alayne had got herself a new dress for the dinner. It was long since she had bought herself anything new — excepting the things for the Horse Show — and she had a woman’s instinct to deck her body in her new happiness. She had asked Renny what he thought about it and he had agreed that a new dress would become her. She could have wept when he drew out the last payment he had had from his uncles and pushed it into her hand. She remembered how close she had been with him when she was the one who had money and he had none. But she smiled — took a quarter of what he had offered and gave the rest back. Again she could almost have wept at his look of relief. Was she always to live between smiles and tears?
He was ready first and he came to see her in her new dress, a gay flowered taffeta with a little train. She was standing in front of her pier glass, so that, on opening the door, he discovered two of her. He elongated his face and held up his hands in an excess of admiration.
“A peach!” he breathed. “A perfect peach!”
She faced him. “Do you like it so well?”
“I love it. By George, I have never seen you look so lovely!”
“Never?” she spoke incredulously.
“Never!” he answered with fervour.
She almost agreed as she turned again to her reflection. The new styles suited her and, in the last months, her face had gained something it had lacked.
From behind he clasped her about the middle and they swayed together. He began to laugh.
Her face slanted upward toward his. “What are you laughing at?”
“I was remembering the night I took the money to Sarah.”
“Tck — I can’t see what there was funny in that!”
“I was remembering how she screamed — really screeched — and hit me on the head.”
Alayne was horrified. “Hit you!”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“You never mentioned it! She dared hit you! I always thought she had a violent temper underneath that air of remoteness.”
“Yes that’s true. And she said something…. What was it, now?… Oh yes — she said that, if it had been me she loved, I should never have cast her off.”
“I hope she flattered herself.”
“She did indeed. I couldn’t have loved that girl — not if she and I were the last two on earth. But I admit I like the thought of her better since she said that.”
“Well, thank goodness, she’s gone!”
They went downstairs hand in hand.
When Ernest found the opportunity he drew Renny aside and said — “I think it would be better if you did not mention the names of my mother or Eden at dinner tonight. I know you do it out of your great affection but it is saddening and I particularly want everything to pass off happily, without the least shadow.”
Renny stared rather aggressively at his uncle. “Do you mean to say it will spoil the party if I mention Gran’s name?”
“No, no, no, but — sometimes you have rather a sombre way with you. Do speak of my mother if you like but I really think you had better not refer to Eden … not tonight, dear boy.”
“I’ll not mention either of them,” returned Renny huffily.
He still looked taciturn when Finch ran into him in the doorway of the dining room. He had slipped in there to look at the table. He had the most extraordinary feeling of extreme youngness and irresponsibility. The thought of seeing the table finely spread was an excitement. He found himself stirred by things which, a few weeks ago, would have left him untouched or shrinking. Now this family party — this close drawing together — this air of festivity — this feeling of being a boy again — younger than any of them — younger than Wake…. He looked eagerly into Renny’s face. Would he guess? Renny said:
“Ha, you’ve been pinching something off the table! Young whelp!”
Rags hardly knew himself in a new coat. No bishop in ceremonial robes could have shown greater dignity than Rags as he waited at table. He was filled with vanity at his own appearance, with pride in his wife’s achievement. No one could deny that the dinner was perfect, from the clear soup to the first strawberries of the season served with rich ice cream. Everyone ate well but none so well as Wakefield.
Meg was rather pensive. It was hard to think of Renny and Alayne so miraculously freed from their mortgage while she and Maurice still laboured under theirs — the unpaid interest mounting up and up. But no one enjoyed delicious food more than she did and she put her envy from her and beamed around the table.
Harriet Archer was sitting on Renny’s right. She was conscious of the admiring glances he gave at her chiffon dress of pinkish-mauve, at her beautifully waved silver hair. She felt that she and Alayne possessed a style very different from that of Meg and Pheasant. Yet she acknowledged that never had she sat down to a table surrounded by such striking-looking people as these. Her eyes dwelt longest on Ernest’s aristocratic aquiline face.
Ernest was rising to his feet. Surely they were not to have speeches! thought Alayne.
Piers exclaimed — “Hear! Hear!”
Nicholas gave his brother an encouraging smile.
“I’m not going to make a speech,” said Ernest, rather nervously. “I’m just going to tell you something which I hope will please you. I have all my life had a desire to get married, though you may not have guessed it. But I could never find the one person to whom I felt I was perfectly suited. Now I have found her and, though it’s rather late in the day, I think we are going to be very happy. Miss Archer has promised to be my wife.”
It was well that the family had had a glass of champagne before this announcement. As it was, they were thrown into a state of excitement. Renny was frankly delighted. He put his arm about Harriet Archer and kissed her enthusiastically. Nicholas came and kissed her too though the announcement was no surprise to him. The men shook Ernest by the hand. Pheasant hugged him.
Piers exclaimed — “Good for you, Uncle Ernie! Well run! With the odds forty to one against you!”
Meg and Alayne exchanged one of their rare looks of sympathy. This was almost too much. Meg’s uncle. Alayne’s aunt. He over eighty. Harriet racing toward seventy. But they too achieved smiles of congratulation, though Alayne’s was touched with incredulity. In truth she scarcely recognized in this exuberant little woman her retiring New England aunt who had lived up the Hudson.
“We thought,” Ernest was saying to Renny, “that we should like to rent the fox farm, if you don’t object. It’s a nice little house and so convenient to Jalna. I think Harriet can make it look charming. Later on, of course, we’ll go to England for a time.”
Everyone talked at once. Rags, after ceremoniously offering his good wishes, brought more champagne. Piers and Maurice became a little hilarious. Meg found it necessary to press Maurice’s foot under the table as his remarks concerning the approaching alliance showed an inclination toward raciness.
Wakefield alone seemed abstracted. Harriet Archer wondered whether the young monk disapproved. He sat rather in the shadow. Soon Renny noticed this and turned to him.
“Well,” he said, “have you nothing to say for yourself?”
“Yes,” returned Wakefield gravely, “I have something to say. But perhaps after all this excitement it will scarcely be noticed.”
His lips pouted. He was afraid that Uncle Ernest had stolen his thunder.
Renny leant toward him. “What is it?”
“Only this,” said Wakefield. He rose from his chair and stood motionless, black in his novice’s robe.
All eyes turned to him. The smiles faded from their faces. Renny looked almost apprehensive.
Wakefield fixed his eyes on Renny’s and began slowly to unbutton his robe. There was a complete silence as he divested himself of it and laid it carefully across the back of his chair. He now stood before them in a dinner jacket.
A gasp of amazement — even shock — put him at his ease again, gave him the sense of drama that was so strong a part of his life.
He turned to Piers.
“You were right, Piers,” he said simply. “You said I’d come back, and I have. But you gave me just six months and it’s taken a year. And I haven’t left the monastery because I couldn’t stick it, but because I knew I had to have the things Renny said a Whiteoak must have. The priests and the brothers have been perfectly splendid about it and — I hope you won’t mind having me home again, Renny?” He flashed a smile, in which there was a touch of his boy’s impudence, at Renny.
Renny sat silent, motionless as a statue. But though he was so still his eyes devoured Wakefield, noting the shape of his shoulders in the well-fitting jacket, the warm colour in his cheeks. From his eyes blazed his gratification, his relief, his pride.
Piers gave his young brother a thump on the back. “What a young fool you were to waste a year of your life!”
Meg exclaimed — “Pheasant, do come and take my place! I must be beside Wake!” She ran to Wakefield and clasped him to her. “Oh, how happy you’ve made me! It just seems too good to be true!” She began to cry, looking out of her streaming eyes into her youngest brother’s face. “I brought you up, you know, Wake darling…. You must never, never forget that! But for me, you would never have pulled through — I can truthfully say that.”
“He’s been a mixed blessing,” said Piers.
“Tell me, Wakefield, are you still a Catholic?” asked Ernest.
“I was never a better one. Piers says I’ve wasted a year but I think I’m always going to look back on that year as the best in my life.”
Meg was sitting beside him now, clasping his hand. He sat proudly erect. The newly engaged couple were forgotten.
Nicholas growled — “The boy ought to go on the stage — with his looks and his talent.”
“Regular movie-star eyelashes, hasn’t he,” said Pheasant.
“Shut up!” laughed Wakefield. Then he turned to Renny. “Haven’t you anything to say to me, Renny?”
Renny answered — “Do you remember that dachshund pup I brought from New York? The chap I got him from said I should be able to sell him for seventy-five dollars when he was grown. Well, I have sold him for one hundred dollars today. What do you think of that?”