“What! Paying money to a lot of old governesses. I can’t see what’s interesting in that.”
Miss Brown picked up the paste-pot. She moved over to the cupboard and stood in front of it.
“I think I’d better get that cupboard repainted. No good having one side of it marked ‘Betsy’ anymore.”
She put the pot away and joined Elizabeth at the window. “For someone who hopes to be a writer, you’re very unimaginative.”
“Why?”
“Well, shan’t I be an old governess?”
“You!” Elizabeth thought a moment. “Won’t you have any money when you’re old?”
“No. And all these people that the ‘Miss Long Memorial Fund’ supports were young once, too, weren’t they? Do you good to get to know some of them.”
Elizabeth frowned.
“I don’t feel I’ll ever be able to write living at home. I feel sort of shut in.”
Miss Brown picked up some scraps of newspaper off the floor.
“You’ll have your own money when you’re twenty-one. You can do what you like then. It’s only four years. I think it would be a good idea if you tried in those four years being pleasant to everybody. It will be a novelty for you, and you might find it interesting.”
Caroline and Laurence were gardening. Laurence straightened his back.
“You know, Mum, Uncle Ellison doesn’t keep this place too badly. After all, he never sees it, and to keep Bates for nothing but the flower-garden does make it all look nice. And it’s a good idea his paying Naomi to be about all the time, cleaning the place and opening the windows. It doesn’t look so awful, does it?”
Caroline laid down the basket into which she had been putting dead rose heads. She looked at the house.
“No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t look bad at all.” She twiddled her gardening scissors on her finger. “But I’ll tell you a secret, Laurie. It isn’t Uncle Ellison that pays Bates and Naomi, and Naomi’s daughter. I do.”
“Oh!” Laurence’s face expressed understanding. “I’ve always marvelled why he did it. Doesn’t seem like him. Does Dad know?”
Caroline flushed.
“I hate keeping things from your father. But, as a matter of fact, he doesn’t. I thought it was a mistake to tell him. It’s money I save out of my clothes and things. Some day I hope your Uncle Ellison will come to his senses, and when he does he’ll find it all in perfect order waiting for him.”
Laurence looked at her across the flower-bed with a smile.
“Does Dad know how much you come down here?”
“How do you know I do come down here much?”
“The people in the cottages. I’ve seen them when I’ve been out riding. Is it out of your money the repairs are being done? Or is that Uncle Ellison?”
“I don’t care for that man Penge that your uncle has as bailiff. He’s not a Kent man, and he doesn’t know the people. Besides, he’s only paid to be here twice a week. I will say that on those two days he’s very energetic, but he’s hard. Your uncle turned a lot of people off when he closed the house, and until they got more work there was no money for their rents. Fortunately, he had not been gone long when I heard about it. I was able to help. The people prefer dealing with one of us.”
“When do you get down? You always seem so terribly busy.”
“Every Tuesday. I’ve been coming for years.” Laurence grinned at her.
“When you’re supposed to be doing ‘The Miss Long Memorial Fund.’ What deceit!”
“It’s not really,” said Caroline quickly. “I can do ‘The Miss Long Memorial Fund,’ at any time and what I can’t do, Brownie does, bless her.” She looked rather shocked with herself “There was never any need to have a special day for the fund. I invented it.”
“You deceitful old woman.” Laurence jumped across the bed. “Come and walk with me. I’ve been wanting to ask you something, and I think this is a good moment.” He tucked his arm into his mother’s, and together they strolled up the lawn. “Do you think I could get out of Oxford. Would Uncle Ellison let me be his agent here?”
“Laurie!” Caroline stood still. Her face lit up. “Do you really want to?” Then she shook her head. “It’s not only Uncle Ellison. I’m afraid your father would never hear of it.”
Laurence shrugged his shoulders.
“Dad’s got to hear of it. He can’t make me go to Oxford. I’ve got some money of my own when I’m twenty-one, so he can’t push me into doing something I don’t want to. Why should I be a barrister? I don’t suppose I’d get through one of the exams.”
“Your father only said a barrister because he thought that if he chose something for you to do, it would help you to make up your mind.”
“But I have made up my mind.” His voice was eager. “Can’t you see, Mum? I could camp out in two rooms in the house, and Naomi, or that fat daughter, could look after me. There’s a lot of the timber wants seeing to, and then there’s quite a lot we could do to the house. If I was on the spot, I could see that Uncle Ellison got all the money he wants out of the place, and I could save enough to get the things done that need doing. The thing is, what’s the best way of getting at Uncle Ellison?”
Caroline walked for a moment in silence.
“Do you know anything about your Uncle Ellison?”
Laurence gave her a quick look.
“What sort of things about him?”
“Well, he’s a very sensitive person. He was as a little boy. Your father can’t bear even talking about him. He doesn’t understand his difficulties.”
“Perhaps he knows something about him that you don’t,” Laurence suggested gently.
Caroline looked up at the branches of a tree they were passing.
“That dead branch must come down. Oh dear, no. I know a lot of things your father doesn’t even know. But it puzzles me a little what he does with all his money. He’s quite a rich man, but he’s always in debt. I’m afraid he gambles.”
Laurence gave her a shrewd look. “You’ve been helping, have you?”
“Not much. Only twice. Each time he threatened to sell some of the land. Of course he mustn’t do that. One day he’ll settle down and be a good boy, and marry and have a little son, and then he’ll be terribly sorry he let any of the property go.”
“How old is he?”
“Still quite a boy. Twenty-eight.”
“Whom will Uncle Ellison leave this place to, if he doesn’t have a son?”
Caroline shook her head.
“The last time I paid some debts for him I asked that. I asked that, just in case anything happened, he made a will. There’s your Great-Uncle George’s grandson. He’s about Elizabeth’s age. I’ve never seen him, but I believe he’s a very nice boy.”
“What did Uncle Ellison say?”
“He didn’t answer himself. He never reads letters. That friend of his, rather a peculiar artist, Mr. Foldes, wrote and said that the mere thought of signing a will made your Uncle Ellison really ill. He said he himself would be over for an exhibition of his pictures this autumn, and perhaps I would see him and we could discuss a whole lot of things.”
Laurence flushed.
“I say, Mum, you’re not going to see him, are you? He sounds an awful fellow.”
“I don’t think he is, dear. And he’s a very clever painter. And in his way, I do think he tries to have a good influence on your Uncle Ellison.”
Laurence gave her an amused look.
“Oh, well, I suppose he won’t do you any harm. I say”—his face lit up—“do you think you could talk to him then about me? I’ll tackle Dad, as soon as he gets home.”
They had turned round and had walked back down the lawn. Caroline moved up the steps on to the terrace. She fingered one of the urns.
“If you come here as agent, you must see that some plants
grow in these. They look terribly bare. I should like to buy two peacocks. There were always peacocks when I was a child.” She brushed a bit of earth off the side of the urn. “I think you had better leave all the arrangements to me, dear. I will talk to your father. I think it would be better.”
Caroline was reading in bed. She heard John’s step on the stairs. She looked at her clock. Nearly two. He had said he was going round to the theatre to see how his play was getting along. The theatre must have been over a long time ago. She sat up and tied a knot in her handkerchief. A reminder that she really must ask Lilias to dinner.
“Hullo.” John saw her light and came in. “Still awake?”
“Yes. Waiting for you. You’ve been so busy with your new play since you got back from Spain, that I haven’t liked to disturb you, but as you’ve finished to-day, I thought I’d get hold of you at once, before you started off on something else.”
“What is it?” John asked cheerfully. “One of your old governesses?”
“No. Don’t fidget round. Come and sit down.” John came over and sat beside her on the bed.
“It’s about Laurie. He doesn’t want to go to Oxford, he wants to be Ellison’s agent at the Manor.”
John rose abruptly. He put his hands into his pockets and walked up and down the room. There was a long silence.
“Would that make you happy?”
“Yes.”
“Would it mean his seeing Ellison?”
“I don’t suppose he would. Ellison’s never in England, as you know.”
“I don’t like your brother.”
“That isn’t fair,” Caroline protested. “You don’t know him. You’re angry with him because you know it worries me that he won’t live at the Manor.”
John gave a short laugh.
“I don’t care tuppence whether he lives at the Manor or not. But I know a good deal about him. I don’t like his friends, and I won’t have Laurie or Jimmie mixed up with him. Who knows, if Laurie was at the Manor he might not come over to stay, with some of his ghastly friends?”
“He’s not likely to.” Caroline pushed the pillows up behind her. “Some day I hope he’ll marry and settle down there, but he shows no sign of doing that yet.”
“Do you suppose that Ellison would let him take it on?”
“I think he might. Some arrangement will have to be made by which he doesn’t have to pay any more than he does that nasty man Penge. But Laurie will have his own money, and he could live rent free. Besides, as he won’t be going to Oxford if he goes there, you could make him an allowance until he’s twenty-one, couldn’t you?”
John came back and sat down beside her.
“I don’t like it. Apart from anything else, it’s a wretched future. Ellison might take it into his head to come back any time, and then he’s got no career.”
Caroline clasped her hands, as if the intertwining of her fingers gave her courage.
“You remember you asked me, after the first night of Candytuft, about my going about more and entertaining. I’ve done it, haven’t I?”
“You’ve been splendid. But how does that affect Laurie?”
Caroline paused, feeling for words.
“Our life isn’t quite what I wanted. You’ve become so important, we never seem to be in at all. I don’t see nearly enough of the children. I shall see more of Betsy now, of course; we hardly ever have evenings at home with them all. But it is the life you wanted, isn’t it? And because you’ve got what you wanted, I’m pleased. I want you to let Laurie do this, for me. I know you’ve never been able to understand quite what I feel about the Manor, but Laurie does; and he would be the perfect person to look after the place. He loves the people, he loves the house, he loves everything about it. It would make me really happy to feel he was there.”
“Oh.” John stooped down and took off his shoes. “If you put it that way, I suppose I shall have to agree. I don’t understand Laurie. I never have. To me it’s inconceivable that a boy with the chances he has, should have no more ambition than to go looking after a property for his uncle. However, if that’s what he wants.” He got up. “Well, my dear, I’ll go and get my things off.” He stooped and kissed her. “I’ll have a talk with Laurie in the morning.”
“Mr. Timothy Foldes,” Pells announced.
Timothy came in as if he had known Caroline all his life.
“Now isn’t this fun! After all our letters. Are you what I thought you’d look like?” He moved away from her and put his head on one side. “New century, with a whiff of our late lamented Victoria, just for remembrance. How clever of you to find this house. Isn’t it charming? I’ve always said that if you are condemned to live in London there’s only one part in which to live, and that’s Chelsea. You must come and see my pictures. The Press are growing kinder and kinder, which makes me feel depressingly Sir Frederick Leighton.”
Caroline managed to break in: “Do sit down.”
Timothy sank gracefully into the chair beside her. He hung his hand prettily over the arm.
“Your brother, Mrs. England, is bringing his poor friend’s grey hairs in sorrow to the grave. What a naughty boy!”
“How is he?”
“Restless, very restless, poor fellow.”
“It’s a pity he’s so fond of gambling.”
“But how true,” Timothy agreed cheerfully. “And what’s the point? That’s what I’m always saying to him. It’s only fun when you’re at it. If you lose you can’t sleep. If you win you sit up all night. Why have a bed at all?”
Caroline leant forward.
“Mr. Foldes, I asked you to come here because I want you to do something for me. My eldest boy, Laurie, is nineteen. He was to have gone up this term to Oxford, to read Law. But he has no taste in that direction. What he wants to do is to be his uncle’s agent at the Manor.” Timothy moved to speak, but Caroline held up her hand to stop him. “It won’t cost Ellison any more money than it costs him to keep the man Penge. Ever since Ellison went away I have been supplementing the staff down there and, considering, the place is not in bad order. But if Laurie went there it could be its old self again. He could manage with just two rooms. My old nurse, Naomi, is married to Bates the gardener, and their daughter could look after him. I know Ellison would not read a letter from me, he won’t open letters from his family, I quite realise that; and I don’t suppose he would see me if I went over to Paris, so I want you, if you will, to try and arrange this for me.”
Timothy opened his eyes.
“You know, I’ve been wondering what you wanted to see me about. It’s not customary to invite the snake into one’s grass.”
“No,” Caroline agreed. “I expect you thought I was going to do what so many of my relations have done, implore you to send Ellison back to England. But I have realised for some time that would be hopeless at present. But it won’t hurt you, Mr. Foldes, to do this for me. It will make no difference to Ellison if Laurie is there. It’s a convenience—isn’t it?—to have me to write to when Ellison’s in trouble. That’s why I’m asking you to do me this favour.”
Timothy tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Ellison can be so difficult.”
Caroline looked him straight in the eyes. “Ellison would do anything for you.” Timothy got up.
“Well, I’ll see what I can manage, although really, you know, it’s a mistake spending any money on that place. The architecture is shockingly mixed. I can see you don’t agree with me. Well, it’s your money. I must fly. It’s been enormous fun meeting, hasn’t it?”
Caroline rang for Pells.
When the door closed she dropped her face into her hands and shuddered. Then she turned to the window and flung it open.
“Goodness, Mum, what a tearing draught, and all the rain is coming in.”
“I know, darling. But this room needed airing.”
; Chapter XVIII
CAROLINE looked out of the window of the railway carriage. Her ear was turned to Laurence’s eager conversation; but her country-bred eyes were on the last of the buttercups, and pleased by the white haze of the cow parsley. The country in June always made her think of her mother. The horse clip-clopping up dusty lanes, the buttercups, the cow parsley, the brown holland cover over their knees, the bottle of port wine lying at their feet, and perhaps a jelly quivering in a jar between them.
“I do think you’ll be pleased, Mum,” said Laurence. “It’s not looking bad at all. That fellow you sent down from the caterer’s is bringing a lot of flowers and stuff with him for the tents, so it won’t matter that we can’t make much of a show in the garden.”
“Have you fixed on the site for the tree?”
“Pettigrew has. Bates and I borrowed a Bath chair and pulled the old fellow to look at the place. Poor old man. It drove him mad that he was too crippled with rheumatism to get out of the chair, but you should have seen him, thumping the ground with his stick. It was rather a touchy point. You see, Grandfather and Pettigrew had made up their minds we should have to plant this one on the rise, which would be a bit tiresome, as it would get all the wind in the winter. But I couldn’t see there was need for that. There’s a perfectly good place on the level. It’s a shade nearer the other trees than the rest of the line, but not near enough to prevent it growing properly. Old Pettigrew thumped the spot and talked a lot about it being ‘awk’ard’ but he had to agree with me in the end.”
Caroline looked round.
“I’m glad you haven’t got to put it on the rise. There’s absolutely no shelter there in the winter. How is old Pettigrew?”
“This tree planting has given him a new lease of life. To hear the fuss he makes you’d think Bates had never handled a spade. Now that he’s found he can get up to the Manor in a Bath chair, he’s up at the place after Bates all day. Whenever he sees me he explains his presence in a noisy whisper: ‘You can’t trust these young fellows. Not to do a job proper.’”
Caroline laughed.
“Perhaps he bears Bates a grudge because of Naomi. She and I used to steal the peaches off the wall. Naomi used to giggle, ‘Lawks, what would Mr. Pettigrew say if he caught us at his fruit?’ How does the fruit look this year?”
Caroline England Page 22
