The Fingerprint

Chapter XIX

MISS SILVER packed her suit-case and was driven to Field End, where she found that a pleasant room had been prepared for her. It was opposite Georgina ’s and next to that occupied by Mirrie Field. Whilst she was unpacking Georgina went downstairs to announce her presence.

She found Mrs. Fabian in the drawing-room, ensconced upon the sofa with her feet up. The sincere grief which she felt for Jonathan’s death was accentuated by a painful uncertainty as to her own future. Field End had been her home for nineteen years, and besides being relieved of all anxieties on the score of board and lodging she had drawn a substantial salary, and there had always been a welcome for Johnny. Now she had no certainty about anything. What had been left from the collapse of her husband’s means would barely suffice to pay the rent of a cottage, and though it is necessary to have a roof over your head, it does not help you very much if all that it can do is to afford you a shelter where you may die quietly of starvation. Of course Johnny wouldn’t let her starve if he could help it, and nor would Georgina. But suppose dear Jonathan had left everything to Mirrie Field. He had gone up to town to make a new will, and he had made it. Mirrie herself had been artlessly confiding on the subject. She had wept and dried her eyes, and wept again as she said how kind Uncle Jonathan had been. All very natural, but what was a proper subject of gratitude for Mirrie could be something quite different for the rest of them. Suppose there should be very little for Georgina. She hadn’t said so to anyone, but when Jonathan had told her that he was going up to town to see Mr. Maudsley she had asked him whether he had let Georgina know. Not meaning anything by it or wishing to pry into his affairs, but just wondering whether he had told her he was going to town. But Jonathan had looked at her angrily and said in what, even though he was dead, she could only describe as a nasty voice that Georgina had nothing to do with his affairs.

In retrospect Mrs. Fabian found that this alarmed her very much. She had never really expected anything for herself, though she had sometimes felt that it would be nice if he were to remember Johnny. But during all the years that she had lived at Field End it had never occurred to her to doubt the security of Georgina ’s position. She was his own flesh and blood, his poor sister Ina’s daughter and such a dear child. Naturally she would be Jonathan’s heiress. But now there was Mirrie Field, and Jonathan had changed his will. Anna Fabian’s body might be comfortable, but her mind was in a sad turmoil. There were visions of Georgina and herself in a garret, though just why it should have been a garret she could not have explained. It was really a great deal more likely to be some tumbledown cottage with no water laid on and only outdoor sanitation. The thought that Georgina would have to find a job brought an added touch of gloom, since it left her to face the garret, or alternatively the cottage, alone. She looked up in a distracted way as Georgina came in, and said,

“It is very wrong of me, I know, and we shouldn’t be thinking of anything except poor dear Jonathan, but oh, my dear, I don’t know what I am going to do-I really don’t. Because you see, though I would be willing to take any kind of post, I am afraid-”

Georgina came over and sat down on the end of the sofa.

“Now, Cousin Anna, what is it?”

Mrs. Fabian burst into tears.

“Dear Jonathan-always so kind! And of course I have no claim, no claim at all, but if he has left everything to Mirrie-”

“I am quite sure you have nothing to worry about.”

Mrs. Fabian pressed a solid linen handkerchief to her eyes.

“He went up to town to make a new will, and Mirrie says-”

“Yes, I know. But I am quite sure that you needn’t worry.”

“Did Jonathan tell you so? Oh, my dear, when you went out of the room last night, did you see him? I have been so hoping that you did, because of course I couldn’t help noticing that there was something wrong, and it would have been so dreadful if he had gone like this without any chance of making it up.”

Georgina looked past her.

“Yes, it would have been dreadful, but it didn’t happen. We talked-everything was all right between us. And everything is going to be all right for you. You won’t cry any more now, will you, because we have a visitor and she will be coming down to tea.”

“A visitor!”

Georgina began to explain Miss Silver.

“I think you will like her. I think she will be a great help to us all.”

“But, my dear-an enquiry agent! Of course that is only another way of saying she is a private detective, and even nowadays, when people do the most extraordinary things, it doesn’t seem to be a proper occupation for a lady.”

“Darling Cousin Anna, Miss Silver is one of the most completely proper people I have ever met. You must have heard Cousin Vinnie talk about her.”

Mrs. Fabian gave her eyes a final dab and sat up. Miss Alvina Grey, daughter of a previous Vicar of Deeping and now for many years resident in what had been the sexton’s cottage, had had quite a lot to say about the events in what had come to be known as the Eternity Ring case. It was into her room that Mary Stokes had rushed, declaring that she had seen a murdered girl in Dead Man’s Copse. Mrs. Fabian had certainly heard the tale a number of times. It was only because of her present distress of mind that she had failed to connect Georgina’s guest with the little lady from London who had been staying with Monica Abbott, and who had played such a helpful part in unravelling that mystery. She said quite briskly,

“Yes, yes, of course. You were away at school, and the name had slipped my mind. Some people are so good at names, but they never seem to me to mean anything, and I don’t pretend to be able to remember them. After all, as Shakespeare says,

‘What’s in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet.’

Silver-yes, that was it, I remember perfectly now-Miss Maud Silver, and everyone spoke very well of her. I remember your Cousin Alvina took a great fancy to her, and she gave her the recipe for those particularly good afternoon teacakes of hers.”

The ground thus prepared for a meeting between the two ladies, Georgina left a restored Mrs. Fabian and was crossing the hall, when Anthony came out of the morning-room. When he saw her he turned back. She followed him into the room and he shut the door. She said,

“Where are the others?”

“Johnny has taken Mirrie out in his old ruin of a car. She’s been crying herself sick, and he thought a little fresh air.”

Georgina nodded.

“She really was fond of Uncle Jonathan. I suppose he was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her, poor Mirrie. Uncle Albert and Aunt Grace sound fairly grim.”

Anthony had walked over to the window. He turned round now and came back to her.

“Never mind about Mirrie just now. I want to talk about us.”

She looked up faintly startled.

“What is it?”

He said abruptly,

“Mirrie says that Jonathan did make a new will when he was in town. He told her so.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about Mirrie.”

“We’re not. It’s what she said about Jonathan’s will.”

She moved to the hearth and stood looking down into the fire.

“I don’t think I want to talk about wills, Anthony.”

“Nor do I. I want to talk about us. I only mentioned the will to get it out of the way. Jonathan told Mirrie that he was treating her as a daughter, and if that means anything at all it means that she will get the bulk of whatever he has to leave. And that means-oh, Georgina, don’t you see-it means that I can ask you to marry me.”

There was an applewood log on the fire. It sent out a very sweet smell. About half of it had burned to a grey ash, but it had not fallen away. Little glowing sparks ran to and fro in the ash under the draught from the chimney.

Georgina looked down at the sparks. Her colour had risen a little. She said in a low voice,

“I don’t know that I care very much about a conditional offer of marriage, Anthony.”

“What do you mean? I couldn’t ask you if you were going to have all that money.”

“That would depend upon whether you thought more of the money than you do of me.”

She looked up at him for a moment. He had time to see that her eyes were bright with anger, and then she was watching the fire again.

“ Georgina!”

“What else? If the money didn’t matter more to you than I do, you wouldn’t let it come between us. I can’t see that it’s any better that way than it would be if you asked me just because I had got the money. In either case you would be letting the money matter more than I do. I won’t marry anyone who does that.”

He took her hand and held it to his cheek.

“You don’t really think I care about the money!”

“You do if you let it come between us.”

“But if you haven’t got it-darling, don’t you see that it makes everything quite easy? I mean, he has probably left you something, but from what you told me yesterday it doesn’t sound as if it would be very much.”

She turned a quiet look upon him.

“I’m wondering just how much your pride would let you take. It might be as well to think it out. Suppose he had left me five hundred a year-”

He broke into angry laughter.

“What are you trying to say?”

“It’s a case of what you would say.”

“Do you know that he has left you that?”

“No, I don’t. I just wondered where you would feel you had to draw the line. And you haven’t answered me. Could you or couldn’t you bear to marry someone with five hundred a year?”

Before she had any idea of what he would do he had taken her by the shoulders.

“If you think I’m going to be haggled with-”

“Anthony!”

“You don’t really think I care about the damned money!”

Georgina looked at him.

“We could always give some of it away, you know. Supposing-just supposing it was more than you felt you could bear – No, Anthony, you are not to kiss me! Not until I say you can. If you won’t be haggled with, I won’t either. I don’t know what Uncle Jonathan has left me, and I don’t want to know. I want to get this settled between us first, and it’s not going to be settled on any question of money. If I have anything, it will be ours. If I haven’t got anything, what you have got will be ours. If I’ve got more than you are going to feel happy about, we can get rid of it. We can talk it over and decide how much of it you can bear to keep. Now don’t you think we might stop going on about the money?” Her voice faltered on the last words.

He put his arms round her and they kissed. It was some time before she said, “You mustn’t!”

“Why mustn’t I?”

“Because-because-oh, I oughtn’t to have let you! I was just thinking of getting the money out of the way.”

“What else is there?”

“Something that matters more than that.”

“Jonathan? I know, darling. But I think he would have been pleased.”

“Yes, he would have been pleased. He liked you very much, but-but-”

“There aren’t any buts.”

Now that it came to the point, it was too difficult to say. She leaned against his arm and felt the comfort of it. Why couldn’t they just stay like this, knowing that they loved each other and neither thinking nor caring about the future? All through the world’s history lovers have wished that it would stand still for them, but it still goes on. The enchanted moment flies, no matter how much they cry to it, “Verweile doch, du bist so schön!” Georgina said in a strained voice,

“It’s no use, Anthony. Frank Abbott thinks I did it.”