The Alington Inheritance

Chapter XLVI

At Alington House Jenny sat and waited for the news. Miss Silver would ring up, she knew that, and she knew what the news would be. But supposing-just supposing- Her thought broke off. It broke off because she broke it off. She would not go on to suppose such failure of justice as would keep Jimmy Mottingley in any danger. All the same it would be nice to know that they could put away the unhappy past and go on into something better.

The last few days had been very trying. She did not know what she would have done without Richard and Miss Danesworth. She had stood between the little girls and all the worst of it, and Richard and Miss Danesworth had sheltered her as much as they could. It was lovely to have them. When she thought what it would have been like to have to stand alone her thoughts just blacked out. She could have done it, because you can do anything that you’ve got to do, but she was profoundly grateful that she did not have to stand alone. For one thing, Miss Crampton would have been very hard to deal with. She had faded away before Miss Danesworth’s presence, and Richard coming in when he did had completed her discomfiture. Now that she had been routed Jenny could feel sorry for her. Once you have seen the softer side of anyone you can never go back to seeing them as they were. It was difficult to put into words, but it was in your mind.

Richard came into the room, and she put out a hand to him.

“It’s so long waiting,” she said with a little break in her voice. “You don’t think anything can have gone wrong, do you?”

“Of course nothing has gone wrong! Don’t be silly, child! What could go wrong?”

“I don’t know. Miss Silver said she would ring up when it was all over.”

“Then she will. I like Miss Silver. She’s bed-rock solid.”

“Oh, Richard! That sounds as if she was one of those stout, hard people with bright red cheeks and the sort of eyes that pop out a little! Not the kind of person she is at all-neat, and old-fashioned, and governessy -only that I’ve never really come across a governess. People don’t have them nowadays, but in Garsty’s old books they did. But Miss Silver isn’t really like anyone.”

“No, I don’t think she is,” said Richard. He sat down with his arm round her. “Relax, darling. It’s all right-it really is.”

“I keep thinking of-of her,” said Jenny.

“Not Mrs. Forbes? Don’t, my dear!”

“I can’t help it,” said Jenny. “Oh, Richard, please let me talk about it. It all seems so dreadful. And the most dreadful part of it is that no one really misses her. Carter cried when she went down to the inquest. She admired her, but she didn’t really love her. And her friends-I don’t believe one of them really cared. They were shocked when she shot herself, but they didn’t really care-not really.”

Richard hesitated. Then he said,

“When something like this happens people either rush in and find they are not wanted, or they stay away and pretend that they haven’t noticed. I think you would find that they don’t know quite what to do. Don’t get bitter about it, darling.”

“I’m not. I just thought it would be rather lonely if it wasn’t for you and Caroline.”

“Well, you’ve got us,” said Richard. “You’ve got us for keeps, and don’t you forget it.”

“Oh, Richard, you’re such a comfort!” said Jenny with the tears in her eyes.

And then the telephone bell rang. Jenny was out of her seat in a moment, her breathing quickened and the colour in her cheeks coming and going. She heard Miss Silver say,

“Is that you, my dear?”

“Oh, yes. Yes-yes, it is. Oh, do tell me! What has happened?”

Miss Silver’s voice came clear along the wire.

“It is all right, my dear. There is nothing for you to be worried about. Dicky Pratt gave his evidence very well indeed. I went over with him and Mrs. Pratt. He really could not have done better. And I think he enjoyed himself.”

“He would,” said Jenny.

“Yes, I remember that you said so. A boy of his age does not apprehend the seriousness of the position. Mr. Fulbrook gave evidence, and James Mottingley. He did very well indeed. I do not think that he could have failed to convince everyone in the court that he was quite innocent of that poor girl’s death. And then Inspector Abbott came into the witness-box and gave his evidence. You know what that was. It cleared Mr. Mottingley completely, and he was discharged. And now, my dear, how is it with you? You have Miss Danesworth and Mr. Richard Forbes with you, have you not? I am afraid that this has been a sad and very trying time for you. You must look forward to the brighter days which lie ahead. Good-bye, my dear.”

The click of the receiver sounded. Miss Silver was gone. One moment she was there, so much herself, so kind, so efficient, and so helpful, and the next she was gone. She was quite gone. It gave Jenny a curious feeling of unreality.

She hung up the receiver and turned to Richard. He put an arm about her.

“Yes, I heard,” he said. “Mottingley has had a hard time.”

Jenny was crying. She didn’t know why. Everything was all right as far as it could be all right. She said, “Oh, Richard-” and they stood together for a moment or two. Then she drew herself away and dried her eyes.

“That’s silly,” she said. “And there’s a letter from Alan. I didn’t open it because-well, because I wanted you to be here. I didn’t feel as if I wanted to read it alone.”

“Well, I’m here, darling. Go on-open it.”

The letter was in a foreign envelope. Jenny opened it and read:

“Dear Jenny,

I don’t know what to say. I feel quite bewildered with it all. Anyhow I don’t see much good in my coming back until the unpleasantness has died away. The chaps that I am with say the same. I think I had better find a job. As a matter of fact I’ve practically got one. It’s with a young Austrian. He’s got to travel for his health. I’ve made great friends with him, and his people are very well off. His mother was Spanish, and the money comes from that side of the family. He is going to pay all the expenses, and I think we shall go to India first of all. He is supposed to be in a warm climate.

Yours affectionately,

Alan Forbes.”

As Jenny read on her colour rose. When she had finished it she put the letter into Richard’s hand and said in a curious voice,

“He’s going to India, and he doesn’t leave us any address.”

Richard read the letter.

“It’s pretty calm,” he said. “Nothing about the little girls, I see.”

“There’s nothing about anyone except himself,” said Jenny. “But there’s one thing-it does give me a free hand with Meg and Joyce.”

“Oh, yes, it gives you a free hand,” said Richard. “They are his sisters, and your second-or is it third cousins? But he gives you a perfectly free hand with them. You can pay their school bills, and have them in the holidays, and have all the burden and sweat of bringing them up, whilst he goes off into the blue and enjoys himself!”

But Jenny was laughing.

“Oh, Richard, I’ll love it-I really will.”

He said, “I’m angry,” and he looked it.

“Oh, don’t be, darling! Don’t you see it’ll be just perfect? Caroline was saying only this morning that she’d hate to give them up. And there would be room for them in her house-she said that too.”

“Here, what have you been planning?”

“We’re going to be a family,” said Jenny. “Caroline agreed with me about it. The little girls can go to school, and we’ll be all together in the holidays. At least-”

“And what happens to us?”

“I suppose we get married,” said Jenny.