CHAPTER IV
Timmy went on into the dining-room to find his brothers and sisters allgathered there excepting Dolly. But as he sat down, and as Betty began topour out tea, Dolly came in from the garden with the words:--"Guess whoI've met and had a talk with?"
She looked round her eagerly, but no one ventured an opinion. There wereso many, many people whom Dolly might have met and had a talk with, forshe was the most gregarious member of the Tosswill family.
At last Timmy spoke up:--"I expect you've seen Mrs. Crofton," heobserved, his mouth already full of bread and butter.
Dolly was taken aback. "How did you know?" she cried. "But it's quitetrue--I _have_ seen Mrs. Crofton!"
"What is she like?" asked Jack indifferently.
"How old is she?" This from Betty, who somehow always seemed to ask theessential question.
"D'you think she'll prove a 'stayer'?" questioned Tom.
He had hoped that someone with a family of boys and girls would have cometo The Trellis House. It was a beautiful little building--the oldestdwelling-house in the village, in spite of its early Victorian name. Butno one ever stayed there very long. Some of the older village folk saidit was haunted.
"Did you speak to her, or did she speak to you?" asked Rosamund.
And then again Timmy intervened.
"I know more about her than any one of you do. But I don't mean to tellyou what I know," he announced.
No one took any notice of him. By common consent efforts were always madein the family circle to keep Timmy down--but such efforts were rarelysuccessful.
"Well, tell us what's she like?" exclaimed Rosamund. "I did so hope weshould escape another widow."
She had hoped for a nice, well-to-do couple, with at least one grown-upson preferably connected, in some way, with the stage.
Dolly Tosswill, still standing, looked down at her audience.
"She's quite unlike what I thought she would be," she began. "For onething, she's quite young, and she's awfully pretty and unusual-looking.You'd notice her anywhere."
"Did you meet her in the post-office?" asked Betty.
"No, at church. She only arrived this morning, and she said she felt solonely and miserable that when she heard the bell ring she thought she'dgo along and see what our church was like."
"Oh, then she's 'pi'?" in a tone of disgust from Rosamund.
"I'd noticed her in church, though she was sitting rather back, close tothe door," went on Dolly, "and I'd wondered who she was, as she looked sovery unlike any of the Beechfield people."
"How do you mean--unlike?" asked Tom.
"I can't explain exactly. I thought she was a summer visitor. And thensomething so funny happened--"
Dolly was sitting down now, and Betty handed her a cup of tea, grievingthe while to see how untidy she looked with her hat tilted back at anunbecoming angle.
"What happened?"
"Well, as we came out of the church together, all at once that old,half-blind, post-office dog made straight for her! He gave a most awfulhowl, and she was so frightened that she ran back into the church again.But of course I didn't know she was Mrs. Crofton _then_. I got the doginto the post-office garden and then I went back into the church to tellher the coast was clear. But she waited a bit, for she was awfully afraidthat he might get out again."
"What a goose she must be"--this from Jack.
"She asked if she were likely to meet any other dog in the road; so Iasked her where she lived, and then she told me she was Mrs. Crofton, andthat she had only arrived this morning. I offered to walk home with her,and then we had quite a talk. She has the same kind of feeling about dogsthat some people have about cats."
"That's rather queer!" said Tom suddenly, "for her husband bredwire-haired terriers. Colonel Crofton sold Flick to Godfrey Radmore lastyear--don't you remember?"
He appealed to Betty, who always remembered everything.
"Yes," she said quietly, "I was just thinking of that. Colonel Croftonwrote Timmy such a nice letter telling him how to manage Flick. It doesseem strange that she should have that feeling about dogs."
Again Timmy's shrill voice rose in challenge. "I should hate _my_ wifenot to like dogs," he cried pugnaciously.
"It'll take you all your time to make her like _you_, old man," observedTom.
"I've asked her in to supper to-night," went on Dolly, in her slow,deliberate way, "so we shall have to have Flick locked up."
"Whatever made you ask her to supper, Doll?" asked Jack sharply.
Jack Tosswill had a hard, rather limited nature, but he was very fondof his home, and unlike most young men, he had a curious dislike to thepresence of strangers there. This was unfortunate, for his step-mother wasvery hospitable, and even now, though life had become a real struggle asto ways and means, she often asked people in to meals.
"Her cook didn't turn up," exclaimed Dolly. "And when she asked me if Iknew of any woman in the village who could come in and cook dinner forher this evening, I said I was sure Janet would like her to come in andhave supper."
"And I hope," chimed in Rosamund decidedly, "that we shall all dress fordinner. Why should she think us a hugger-mugger family?"
"I don't mean to change. I shall only wash my hands!" This from Timmy,who was always allowed to sit up to dinner. His brothers and sisters weretoo fond of their step-mother to say how absurdly uncalled-for theythought this privilege.
As everyone pretended not to have heard his remark, Timmy repeatedobstinately: "I shall only wash my hands."
"Mrs. Crofton won't care how _you_ look," observed Jack irritably. "If wedidn't now live in such a huggery-muggery way, I should always dress. Ido everywhere else."
Betty looked at him, and her face deadened. Though she would hardly haveadmitted it, even to herself, she regretted the way in which everythingat Old Place was now allowed to go "slack." She knew it to be bad for hersisters. It wasn't as if they did any real housework or gave useful helpin the kitchen. Dolly tried to do so in a desultory way, but in the endit was she, Betty, who kept everything going in this big, rambling oldhouse, with the help of the old nurse and a day girl from the village.
Timmy gave a little cackle, and Jack felt annoyed. He looked across athis half-brother with a feeling akin to dislike. But Jack Tosswill wastruly attached to his step-mother. He was old enough to remember what achange she had made in the then dull, sad, austere Old Place. Janet hadat once thrown herself into the task of being sister, rather thanstep-mother, to her husband's children, and bountifully had she succeeded!
Still, with the exception of Betty, they all criticised her severely, intheir hearts, for her weakness where her own child was concerned. And yetpoor Janet never made the slightest difference between Timmy and theothers. It was more the little boy's own clever insistence which got himhis own way, and secured him certain privileges which they, at his age,had never enjoyed. Timmy also always knew how to manage his delicate,nervous father. John Tosswill realised that Timmy might some day grow upto do him credit. Timmy really loved learning, and it was a pleasure tothe scholar to teach his clever, impish, youngest son.
* * * * *
Meanwhile Janet, who had remained on in the drawing-room, got up from thesofa and, going into the corridor, opened the dining-room door. For somemoments she stood there, unseen, watching the eager party gathered roundthe table, and as she did so, she looked with a curious, yearning feelingat each of the young folk in turn.
How changed, how utterly changed, they all were since Godfrey Radmore hadlast been in that familiar room! The least changed, of course, was Betty.To her step-mother's partial eyes, Betty Tosswill, at twenty-eight, wasstill an extraordinarily charming and young-looking creature. Had hernose been rather less retrousse, her generous, full-lipped mouth just alittle smaller, her brown hair either much darker, or really fair, as wasRosamund's, she would have been exceptionally pretty. What to thediscriminating made her so much more attractive than either of heryounger sisters was her lo
ok of intelligence and quiet humour. But ofcourse she looked not only older, but different, from what she had lookednine years ago. Betty had lived a full and, in a sense, a tragic lifeduring four of the years which had elapsed since she and Radmore hadparted in this very room.
Janet's eyes travelled past Betty to Jack. Just at that moment he waslooking with no very pleasant expression across at his little brother,and yet there was something softer than usual in his cold, clear-cutface. Janet Tosswill would have been touched and surprised indeed hadshe known that it was the thought of herself that had brought that lookon Jack's face. Jack was twenty-one, but looked like a man of thirty--hewas so set, he knew so exactly what he wanted of life. As she looked athim, she wondered doubtfully whether he would ever make that great careerhis schoolmaster had so confidently predicted for him. He was so--so--shecould only find the word "conventional" to describe him.
Janet Tosswill passed over Dolly quickly. To-day Dolly looked a littledifferent from the others, for she was wearing a hat, and it was clearthat she had just come in from the village. Her step-mother noticed withdissatisfaction that the over large brooch fastening Dolly's blouse wasset in awry, and that there were wisps of loose hair lying on her neck.
As for Rosamund, she looked ill-humoured, frankly bored to-day--but oh,how pretty and dainty, next to the commonplace Dolly! Rosamund's gleamingfair hair curled naturally all over her head; she had lovely,startled-looking eyes which went oddly with a very determined, ifbeautifully moulded, mouth and chin.
Betty was convinced that, given a chance, Rosamund would make a successon the stage, but Betty was prejudiced. There had always been a curiouslink of sympathy between the two sisters, utterly different as they were,and many as were the years that separated them.
Tom was the only one of the flock who presented no problem. He was farmore human than Jack, but, like Jack, absolutely steady and dependable.
Janet Tosswill's mind swung back to Godfrey Radmore. She wondered how hewould like the changes in Old Place, whether they would affect himpleasantly or otherwise. She was woman enough to regret sharply theiraltered way of life. When Godfrey had lived in Old Place, there had beena good cook, a capable parlourmaid, and a well-trained housemaid, as wellas a bright-faced "tweenie" there, and life had rolled along as if onwheels. It was very different now.
She wondered if Betty or Timmy had told the others of Radmore's comingvisit. It was so strange, in a way, so painful to know that to most ofthem, with the possible exception of Jack, he was only a name.
Suddenly Betty, turning around, saw her step-mother. "Dolly has met Mrs.Crofton, and she's utterly unlike what any of us thought she would be!"she cried out. "She's young, and very pretty--quite lovely in fact!Dolly asked her into supper to-night, as her cook has not yet arrived."
She had a sort of prevision that Janet was now going to tell the othersabout Godfrey Radmore, and she wanted to get away out of the room first.But this was not to be. Janet Tosswill had a very positive mind--shewas full of what she had come in to say, and the new tenant at TheTrellis House interested her not at all, so as soon as she had sat down,she exclaimed, "Perhaps Timmy has told you my news?"
Then all turned to her, except Betty and Timmy himself.
"What news?" came in eager chorus.
"Godfrey Radmore is in England. He telephoned from London just now, andhe's coming down on Friday to spend a long week-end!"
Rosamund was the only one who stole a look at Betty.
"Godfrey Radmore here?" repeated Jack slowly. "It's queer he would wantto come--after the odd way he's behaved to us."
"Yes, it is rather strange," Janet tried to speak lightly. "But there itis! The whole world has turned topsy-turvy since any of us saw him last."
"I wonder if he's still very rich," went on Jack.
Janet Tosswill felt startled. "Why shouldn't he be?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know--it only occurred to me that he might have lost some ofthis money in the same way that he lost that first fortune of his."
"It wasn't a fortune"--Betty's quiet voice broke in very decidedly--"andmost of it was lost by a friend of his, not by Godfrey himself at all. Hewas too proud to say anything about it to father, but he wrote and toldGeorge."
A curious stillness fell over the company of young people. They were allin their different ways very much surprised, for Betty never mentionedher twin-brother. All at once they each remembered about Betty andGodfrey--all except Timmy, who had never been told.
"And now what's this about Mrs. Crofton?" asked Janet at last, breaking asilence that had become oppressive. "Do I understand that she's coming tosupper to-night?"
It was Betty who answered: "I hope you don't mind? Dolly thought it theonly thing to do, as the poor woman's cook hadn't arrived."
"We mustn't forget to ask her in for lunch or dinner on one of the daysthat Godfrey is here," observed Janet. "I gather they're friends. Heasked if she'd already come."
* * * * *
Timmy was supposed to prepare his lessons between tea and dinner, butunlike the ordinary boy, he much preferred to wake early and work beforebreakfast. This was considered not good for his health, and there wasa constant struggle between himself and his determined mother to forcehim to do the normal thing. So after she had finished her tea, shebeckoned to her son, and he unwillingly got up and followed her intothe drawing-room. But before he could settle down at his own specialtable Betty came in.
"Janet, I want to ask you something before I go into the village. Thereare one or two things we must get in, if Mrs. Crofton is coming thisevening--"
The little boy did not wait to hear his mother's answer. He crept veryquietly out of the open window, which was close to his table, and thenmade his way round to the first of the long French windows of thedining-room. He was just in time to hear his brother Tom ask in a verysolemn tone: "I say, you fellows! Wasn't Betty once engaged to thisRadmore chap?"
Timmy, skilfully ensconced behind the full old green damask curtains,listened, with all his ears, for the answer.
"Yes," said Jack at last, with a touch of reluctance. "They were engaged,but not for very long. Still, they'd been fond of one another for an ageand George was his greatest friend--"
Rosamund broke in: "Do tell us what he's like, Jack! I suppose you canremember him quite well?"
Jack hesitated, rather uncomfortably.
"Of course I remember Radmore very well indeed. He had quite a tidy bitof money, as both his parents were dead. His snuffy old guardian had beenat Balliol with father. So father was asked to coach him. And then, well,I suppose as time went on, and Betty began growing up, he fell in lovewith her."
"And she with him?" interposed Rosamund.
"A girl is apt to like any man who likes her," said Jack loftily. "But Ibelieve 'twas he made all the fuss when the engagement was broken off."
"But why was it broken off?" asked Rosamund.
"Because he'd lost all his money racing."
"What a stupid thing to do!" exclaimed Tom.
"The row came during the Easter holidays," went on Jack meditatively,"and there was a fearful dust-up. Like an idiot, Radmore had gone and putthe whole of the little bit of money he had saved out of the fire on anoutsider he had some reason to think would be bound to romp in first--andthe horse was not even placed!"
"Poor fellow!" exclaimed Rosamund.
"He rushed down here," went on Jack, "to say that he had made up hismind to go to Australia. And he was simply amazed when father and Janetwouldn't hear of Betty going with him."
"Would she have liked to go?" asked Tom.
"Well, yes--I believe she would. But of course it was out of thequestion. Father could have given her nothing, even then, so how couldthey have lived? There was a fearful rumpus, and in the end Godfrey wentoff in a tearing rage."
"Shaking the dust of Old Place off his indignant feet, eh?" suggestedTom.
"Yes, all that sort of thing. George was having scarlet fever--in aLond
on hospital--so of course he was quite out of it."
"Then, at last Godfrey reopened communication via Timmy?" suggested theyounger boy.
"Timmy's got the letter still," chimed in Rosamund. "I saw it in hisplay-box the other day. It was rather a funny letter--I read it."
"The devil you did!" from Tom, indignantly.
She went on unruffled:--"He said he'd been left a fortune, and wanted toshare it with his godson. How much did he send? D'you remember?" Shelooked round.
"Five pounds!" said Dolly.
"I wish _I_ was his godson," said Tom.
"And then," went on Dolly, in her precise way, "the War came, and nothingmore happened till suddenly he wrote again to Timmy from Egypt, and thenbegan the presents. I wonder if we ought to have thanked him for them?After all, we don't _know_ that they came from him. The only present we_know_ came from him was Flick."
"And a damned silly present, too!" observed Jack, drily.
"Do you think he's still in love with Betty?" asked Rosamund.
"Of course he's not. If he was, he would have written to her, not toTimmy. Nine years is a long time in a man's life," observed Jacksententiously.
"My hat! yes!" exclaimed Tom. "Poor Betty!"
Jack got up, and made a movement as if he were thinking of going outthrough the window into the garden. So Timmy, with a swift, sinuousmovement, withdrew from the curtain, and edging up against the outsidewall of the house, walked unobtrusively back into the drawing-room.
When his mother--who had gone out to find something for Betty to takeinto the village--came back, she was pleased and surprised to find herlittle son working away as if for dear life.
What Timmy Did Page 4
