The Alington Inheritance

Chapter XLII

It was the next morning. Jenny had not slept at all for the first part of the night, but towards morning she fell into a deep unconsciousness. As she came up from it she heard a bell ringing. It rang, and it ceased, and then it rang again, and ceased again. She dreamed that she was sailing on the sea. It was calm weather and the sun shone. And then suddenly the sun was gone and the day was dark, and above the crashing roar of the waves she could hear the sound of the bell. She was up on her elbow and half awake. And then she heard it again-the sound of the telephone bell in the room below.

She was out of bed in a moment and running down the stairs with her feet bare and her heart pounding. As she reached the telephone she heard Richard’s step on the stair behind her. She heard her own voice, surprisingly steady.

“Yes-who is it?”

And then the ghost of Carter’s voice.

“Miss Jenny, is that you?”

“Yes-yes. What is it?”

“Oh, Miss Jenny, I don’t know what to do. I thought I’d better ring you.”

Something clutched her heart. She heard herself say calmly and steadily, “What is it, Carter?”

“Oh, my dear! I didn’t know what to do, but I thought you ought to know. It’s Mrs. Forbes, my dear. I found her when I went down. Sitting at her table she was, and the pistol where it had dropped from her hand.”

Jenny heard herself say, “Is she dead?”

“Oh, my dear, yes! And it’s the little girls I’m thinking of. Mr. Alan’s abroad, and we don’t know where to get hold of him-and there’s no one but you, my dear.”

There was a question whose answer was a certainty, but she couldn’t get it across her lips. Couldn’t? She must. You can do anything if you’ve got to, she knew that. Her voice did not even tremble as she said, “Mac-” and listened for Carter’s answer.

When it came it told her nothing which she did not already know, because only one thing would have made Mrs. Forbes take her life. She would never willingly have gone and left Mac behind her to face what must be faced. She knew the answer before it came with a burst of tears from Carter.

“Oh, my dear, he’s gone too! That’s what made her do it! I rang up straight away, and there was a policeman that answered! Mr. Mac, he shot himself last night, and she must have heard! I suppose the police would have told her! And she sat there all night, poor thing, and come the early morning, I suppose it got too much for her, and she took out that old revolver of the Colonel’s and shot herself!”

Richard had come up close beside her. He had his arm round her and she leaned against it. His nearness helped her. It made her feel not quite so alone, not quite so friendless. She spoke into the receiver.

“I’ll come, Carter. Tell the little girls I’ll come this morning.”

She hung up and turned to Richard.

“They’re both dead-Mrs. Forbes and Mac! I can’t take it in. But I must go to the little girls.”

He said, “I’ll drive you.”

And then Caroline was there. Jenny turned and saw her standing by the door. She had waited to put on her dressing-gown. She looked calm, and she was a tower of strength.

“Yes, my dear, you shall go. And I think that Richard and I will come with you. We must dress and have breakfast, and then we will get off. Those poor little girls!”

Jenny said in a strange level voice,

“Alan ought to be there. He is the other son, you know. He is a year younger than Mac, and he’s just left college. He’s somewhere on the Continent, but they don’t know where. We shall have to try and find him.”

“Jenny dear, come and dress. We’ll think of all the things we have to do, but not just now. The first thing to do is to get some clothes on.”

Jenny looked down at her nightgown in a surprised sort of way. She had been quite unaware of it, and of her bare feet, but now she began to feel cold. She began to feel very cold. She held out her hands to Miss Danesworth, who put an arm round her and took her to the door. She said over her shoulder to Richard,

“Make some tea, there’s a good boy, and when it’s made bring it up.”

Jenny went upstairs. She washed and dressed herself and drank some tea when it came. But it all seemed as if it was happening in a dream. Suppose she hadn’t telephoned to Mac-they would both be alive now, he and his mother. And she had killed them?… No, it lay further back than that. She made herself look back, and she saw into Mac’s mind. He had seen the whole thing quite simply. She knew that. His first choice had been to marry her, not because he loved her, but because that was the safe and certain way of getting the property. When she wouldn’t- when she ran away-the only way he could think of was to kill her. He had planned it very carefully. If Dicky Pratt had been a reliable boy, his scheme would have come off. She would have gone to meet him, and she would have taken the note with her because he had asked her to. And then it would have been she that was killed, not Miriam. Not just there perhaps. He would have stopped the car, and she would have got in, and they would have driven off. He would not have gone very far, she thought-just a few hundred yards. And then he would have stopped the car, and she would be dead. Not Miriam. These thoughts went round and round in her head. Sometimes they were in the front of her mind, quite clear and distinct, and sometimes they were at the back of it, half hidden by a veil that was like mist.

When she had drunk some hot tea she was a little better, but she still felt as if she was in a dream. They had breakfast. Jenny choked hers down and drank two more cups of tea thirstily.

And then they were off. Jenny and Caroline sat behind, and Jenny was grateful because Caroline didn’t talk to her. She sat with her face turned to the window and watched the side of the road. It meant nothing to her. She watched without seeing it. And all the time she saw Mac and Mrs. Forbes. Not dead but alive, dominant and aggressive. She couldn’t think of them as dead.

When they came to the open gates she stiffened and sat up straight. And then they came to the drive, and up the drive to the front of the house, and with that the whole thing seemed to come to a head, because all the blinds were down. She said, “Oh!” and she caught Miss Danesworth by the arm very tight and hard. From the top of the house to the bottom all the blinds were down. It was a bright sunny day too, and that seemed to make it all much worse. A picture came up in her mind of the inside of the house, all dark, all closed up, all dead. She shuddered violently, and Miss Danesworth put her arm round her and said,

“You must think about the children, Jenny.”

And with that Meg and Joyce came to her mind. And of course they were alive and they would need comforting. She said quite steadily,

“Thank you. I’m all right now.”

And then Richard was opening the door and they got out and rang the bell. Jenny thought, “That’s curious, to be ringing the bell,” because it was such a long time since she had rung it. She couldn’t really remember when she had rung it last. When Colonel Forbes was alive she had always gone round to the side door and in that way. She had been so fond of him. For the first time she was glad that he was dead. She hoped that he didn’t know about his wife and about Mac. He had always been so kind to her-

As Jenny pulled the bell she thought of all the times that she had gone in and out by this door and by the little side door, and had never rung a bell at all. It seemed strange to be ringing it now when it all belonged to her. She couldn’t realize that. She didn’t realize it at all.

And then the door opened, and there was Carter, her eyes red and both hands out to her.

“Oh, Miss Jenny my dear! Oh, my dear-I’m so glad to see you!”

Jenny kissed her.

“And this is Miss Danesworth,” she said. “And Richard. He is Richard Alington Forbes like my father was. And we’re going to be married. Miss Danesworth is his aunt.”

And with that there was a scurry of feet on the stairs and Meg was in Jenny’s arms.

“She told us to stay upstairs! As if we could! Oh, Jenny, you won’t go away again, will you? All the dreadful things have happened since you went away! And we don’t know where Alan is, or anything!”

Step by step down the stairs Joyce came. She dragged her feet, and she looked so scared and miserable that Jenny ran to meet her.

“Poor child!” said Carter. “It comes very hard on the children, Miss Danesworth.”