Authors: Unknown
But suddenly her aunt came to the door of the small living-room and called her.
“Judith—I’m so glad! Mr. Tiverton wants to see you for a moment.”
There was no escape, so Judith went slowly in and greeted the bank manager. But this time there was nothing effusive in his manner. Indeed, he greeted Judith very soberly, and Miss Harriet came to his assistance, since he was obviously reluctant to come to the point.
“A cheque for a hundred pounds has been presented to the bank, Judith, and Mr. Tiverton would like to have your assurance that it really is your signature. Will you show my niece, Mr. Tiverton?”
He fumbled in his wallet.
“Of course—I am sure it is all right, but—rather a large amount, you know—and one cannot be too careful! None the less, I felt it would be more discreet if I were to ask you personally.”
Judith held out her hand. Her heart was thudding uncomfortably, and for a moment she could not make herself look at it. She knew perfectly well that she had not made out a cheque for that amount at all lately.
“Pay D. Enstone, Esq.—” The words blurred. Never in her life had she made out a cheque in Desmond’s favour. She realised that they were watching her, waiting for her to speak. She moistened her lips with her tongue.
“Yes,” she said clearly, “I signed that! There is nothing wrong with it at all, Mr. Tiverton!”
THERE was a silence that could be felt in the sun-filled room. It was perfectly obvious that neither Miss Harriet nor Mr. Tiverton believed Judith.
Mr. Tiverton coughed uneasily.
“Miss Ravensdale, this is very difficult for me to say, for I know that you and Mr. Enstone have been friends for a very long while, but—you are quite sure that it is not just because of that very fact that you are making such a statement?”
Judith’s small body stiffened and her chin grew obstinate. So like her father, Miss^ Harriet thought anxiously. Opposition had always had the very worst effect on them, however justified it might be.
“I don’t think I understand you,” Judith said coldly.
Mr. Tiverton wiped his forehead with his immaculate handkerchief and looked appealingly at Miss Harriet, but she shook her head. Only too well she knew that there was nothing she could do now.
“It is not easy to make myself clear without—” he began diffidently. “However—what I mean is this: were it not for the statement you have just made, my opinion would be that this signature is a forgery—and not a very good one!”
“Oh?” Judith said indifferently, glancing down again at the cheque which she held. “I agree it isn’t a very good signature, but I wrote it in rather a hurry with a different pen, so I expect that is why.” She handed the cheque back to Mr. Tiverton. “Is there anything else?”
“No,” he said uncertainly. “No—” and glanced again at Miss Harriet.
With a sigh, she turned to Judith. It was useless, but
“You must understand that Mr. Tiverton only has your well-being at heart, Judith,” she began.
“Quite, quite!” he agreed hurriedly.
“Consequently, although I am sure he would not insist on being told, I think he would be reassured if you would explain how it came about that you did make out such a big cheque in Desmond’s favour.”
Judith shrugged her shoulders. Not for a moment did she believe that Mr. Tiverton was thinking of anything but his own position as manager of the local bank. He had no intention of jeopardising that, she was perfectly sure. And, of course, he was reluctant to offend her, his biggest client, so he was getting Aunt Harriet to ask questions that he did not like to.
“I don’t mind in the least,” she said coolly. “Desmond and I are engaged. We intend getting married as soon as I am of age. In the meantime, during my absence, I want him to do some shopping for me. That cheque is to cover his purchases. Now are you satisfied, Mr. Tiverton?”
“Yes, of course, Miss. Ravensdale," he said hurriedly, obviously tom between relief and the fear that he had offended. “That is a perfectly reasonable explanation. You must allow me to congratulate you.”
“Thank you,” Judith said shortly. “I should like to make it clear to you, though, that this is a private matter and one which would not have been spoken of but for your—your reluctance to accept my unsupported word!” She looked straight at him with hard, unfriendly eyes, and the bank manager looked uncomfortable.
“I am sure no one regrets more than I—of course you can rely on me not to let your confidence go any farther,” he said hurriedly.
“I hope so,” Judith said with a nod that carried dismissal with it.
Hurriedly Mr. Tiverton said good-bye to Miss Harriet and left the two women together.
Judith shrugged her shoulders.
“What a silly, interfering old man he is!” she said irritably.
“No, he’s nothing of the sort,” Miss Harriet said quietly. “He performed a difficult, thankless task as well as possible, in the circumstances. You did not make it easier for him, you know.”
“Why should I?” Judith asked. “He annoyed me!”
“That was perfectly obvious,” Miss Harriet commented. “However, never mind Mr. Tiverton for a moment! You were not telling the truth, Judith!”
Judith did not reply, and her aunt went on:
“You neither made out that cheque, nor are you engaged to Desmond!”
For answer, Judith walked slowly over to the telephone and asked for the Enstones’ number.
“Des?” she asked. “Oh, Des, the silliest thing! You know the cheque for a hundred pounds I gave you? Yes, well, Mr. Tiverton got it into his head that you had forged it! I tried to convince him that he was wrong, but the only way I could get him to believe it was to explain that we were engaged! He accepted that all right, but now Aunt Harriet refuses to believe it! Could you possibly come over and help me convince her? It’s really too silly, but—”
She had heard the quick intake of his breath as she started speaking. Then there had been utter silence, as if Desmond was listening with agonising intentness.
“Hallo?” she said sharply.
“Yes, I heard,” he said slowly. “I’ll be over right away, and—I’ll do just as you say!”
Judith hung up the telephone. Until that moment she had hoped against hope that it was not true. That it must have been someone else—there must be some other explanation. But Desmond, her old friend, had deliberately attempted to defraud her. She turned to her aunt.
“Des will be over at once,” she announced. “Between us we ought to convince you!”
Miss Harriet, more troubled than ever, came over to the girl and pulled her down beside her on the couch.
“Judith, my dear, I suppose I am convinced. But— why did you do it without telling me?”
Gently but firmly Judith disengaged her hands. “Because,” she said clearly, “I am very tired of having my affairs interfered with! If we had made an announcement in the ordinary way, I am quite sure you would have made a fuss! You would probably have insisted that we did not say anything about it until after my return! Well, that is just what we are doing, so what is there for you to say? I know you don’t like Des, but—it is I who propose marrying him, not you!”
Miss Harriet sat very still. At this moment she knew that she was farther away from Judith than she had ever been, and that the gulf between them was not one that was ever likely to be bridged. And what was there that she could say? Nothing, she felt, that would not drive them still farther apart. So she waited.
“Now that Mr. Tiverton has had to be told,” Judith went on in that hard, determined voice, “I am afraid that it will have to be announced at once. I absolutely refuse to have any gossip about it!”
“Mr. Tiverton gave you his promise—” Miss Harriet began.
Judith’s hands moved in an impatient gesture.
“Oh, he won’t tell anyone outright!” she agreed. “But if I know him he will hint—give people the impression that if only he would, he could tell them something about me! No, Aunt Harriet, I am sorry, but surely you must see for yourself.”
And Miss Harriet, knowing the village, did see, only too well.
“I think,” went on that young, arrogant voice, “that the best thing will be for us to give a party just before we sail—the night before will be best. It can be a sort of farewell party and an engagement party as well.”
“Surely—” Miss Harriet began, but Judith interrupted her.
“There is something else I have to tell you,” she said slowly, and now, avoiding her aunt’s eyes, she picked nervously at a loose piece of wool on a tapestry cushion. “As soon as I am of age, I am going to sell Windygates!”
“Sell—!’’ Miss Harriet gasped. “Judith—you can’t ”
Judith stood up.
“I can—and I will,” she said resolutely. “It is mine— to do with as I like. And that—is what I choose.”
“Is this Desmond’s idea—?” Miss Harriet began, but Judith shook her head. Suddenly, she felt very tired, as if all the spirit had gone out of her.
“No,” she said wearily. “I haven’t told Des yet. But I think he will be quite pleased. After all, we are both young. Is it unnatural that we should want some fun out of life instead of working so hard that there is never any time for anything else?”
“There could be—” Miss Harriet began, but again Judith interrupted her.
“If I would consent to your friend Charles Saxilby staying on?” she asked scornfully. “No, that is the last thing I would agree to! Unless, of course, he buys Windygates! He wants to, you know. He wanted me to give him the first refusal of it, but I had to make it clear to him that he could not expect to get it cheap. He must bid when it is auctioned, the same as anyone else! Listen! That’s Des, I think!” She went to the window and leaned out. “Des, come in here, will you? The door is open!”
He came slowly in, and it seemed to Miss Harriet that if she wanted confirmation of her belief that Judith had lied to her, she had it in his manner. Usually so full of self-confidence, now he had none at all. His eyes went from Judith’s face to her own and back again. He did
not know what to say, and he waited for Judith to give him a lead.
She slipped her arm through his.
“Des, 1 am sorry! Was it a nuisance coming just now?”
“Well—a bit,” he said hesitatingly. “But, of course, I couldn’t let you shoulder this alone.”
Judith smiled at her aunt.
“You see?” she said almost too patiently. “Des is as annoyed as I am! Look, Des, will you just confirm what I’ve told Aunt Harriet—that we are engaged, but we wanted it to be a secret until I came back so that there was no fuss.”
She felt her arm being crushed against his side, felt the deep intake of his breath.
“That is quite true, Miss Ravensdale,” he said steadily. “I am sorry if you are not pleased about it, but— after all that has happened, you can hardly blame us!”
“I blame no one but myself,” Miss Harriet said quietly, her face suddenly old and tired. She walked over to the door. “If you will prepare a list of the guests you propose asking, Judith, I will make arrangements for your party!”
“Very well,” Judith said indifferently.
The door shut behind Miss Harriet and Desmond turned to Judith eagerly.
“Judith, what ” he began, but she silenced him.
“Not now!” she said quickly. “Take me out somewhere in your car—if you can spare the time?”
He looked at her with a peculiar expression on his good-looking face.
“My time is completely at your disposal, Judith,” he told her quietly.
Judith flushed, and for the first time since she had come into the room to see Mr. Tiverton, her eyes were troubled.
They drove for the best part of three miles before Desmond drew up at the side of the road. He drew a deep breath.
“Now!” he said quietly, and with an access of dignity strange to his happy-go-lucky nature.
“Now what?” Judith asked carelessly.
Desmond shook his head.
“No, Judith, that won’t do!” he told her resolutely. “It is all very well for us to lie to other people, but not to one another! We’ve got to be honest—” He stopped, his mouth twitching uneasily.
Judith leaned back. Her eyes were on the summer glory of the woods and fields and sky but she, who had loved them so much all her life, did not even see them now.
“Suppose you start,” she suggested.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “It’s rather up to me, isn’t it? Well, I was desperate ”
“Yes, I suppose so,” she said wearily. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have taken such a risk. Or was it such a risk? You knew I would not prosecute you, didn’t you?”
His eyes dropped.
“Yes,” he muttered, “that’s what is so foul about it! Judith, I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” she looked at him with eyes that held cynical amusement. “But why? You were in difficulties and you saw a way out—just as I did! Oh, Desmond, if we are to be honest with one another, why not admit it? It is the most natural instinct in the world for people to look after themselves! That’s all you did—and you took the least possible risk in doing it!”
Desmond shook his head as he stared incredulously at her.
“That doesn’t sound like you, Judith!” he said slowly. “When have you ever ”
“All my life!” she told him, her hands moving restlessly in her lap. “Only I’ve never admitted it before. Perhaps I never saw it that way before! But now that I do, believe me, I intend to go on just the same way!”
“You
are
changed, Judith,” Desmond insisted. “And I’m not sure ”
“Of course I have changed!” she said impatiently. “I’ve grown up, that’s all! It had to happen sooner or later! Now that it has, you don’t appear to like it! Perhaps you would rather we didn’t get married?”
He looked at her for a long, brooding minute. Then he shook his head.
“If you are content, so am I!” he averred. “But—I would like to know your reason, Judith, if you don’t mind? You see—” he smiled deprecatingly—“I haven’t the cheek to imagine that you love me!”
“Love?” she said slowly. “No, I suppose not. But does that matter? From what one hears, romantic love never lasts. Surely it is better to build on a friendship that has lasted for a good many years? After all, we shall not expect too much.”