“You needn’t. I can drive already. But I never, never hoped to have a car of my own.” She was flushing and paling. “I can’t imagine— Oh, Ford! you shouldn’t spoil me so terribly. I—I haven’t really done anything to deserve it.” And she turned and hid her face against his arm.
“Why, darling”—his voice was unexpectedly gentle —”why should you do anything to deserve it? We’re not going to reckon things on that basis, you know.” And he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I think you need a car, to save you as much exertion as possible. And, in any case, I like to give you a car,” he finished, as though that in itself were really quite sufficient reason.
She laughed a little unsteadily and hugged him.
“It’s the most wonderful present, Ford. I hadn’t imagined anything remotely like that. I thought perhaps a handbag or—or a clip-on or something. But a car! Oh, it’s lovely.” And she affectionately stroked the shining bonnet.
“I’ll bring her over to-morrow, and we’ll get your licence and you can try her out,” he promised.
“Yes. But I want just to sit in her for a moment now,” Jessica insisted.
So she got into the driving seat, and he sat beside her and explained the mechanism, and also the beautiful shining gadgets which marked it so indisputably as a luxury car.
They were still sitting there, laughing and talking, when a shadow fell across the entrance to the garage, and Angela came in.
“Oh, I thought I might find you here,” she said, addressing her brother first. And then—“Hallo, Jessica.”
“Hallo, Angela.” Jessica opened the door of the car and leant out. “Have you seen my car? Isn’t she heavenly?”
“Yes, it’s a beautiful car,” Angela agreed quite politely, but without enthusiasm, and Jessica thought she probably considered that her brother had been wasting his money.
“Well, what is it?”
Ford had got out of the car now, and stood looking down at his sister, like a man who had been interrupted in some very pleasant task but was in too good a humour to resent even that.
Angela held out an open letter which she had in her hand.
“I’ve just had this letter from Paula. She’s very upset because her engagement’s been broken off. I’m not really surprised. I always knew Edward wouldn’t suit her.”
Jessica was aware that there was a moment’s complete silence before Ford replied, and when he did speak, his voice was very cold.
“I’m sorry,” he said formally, “but I don’t know that it’s really very much our concern.’
“Of course it is, Ford! Paula is one of our oldest friends,” Angela retorted. “Besides, I’ve made it my concern. I’ve wired to say she must come here for a while. A complete change is the best thing when you’ve had an emotional upset.”
“I don’t think you should have done that without asking me,” her brother said extremely curtly. “I would rather not have Paula here.”
“But, Ford, how unreasonable of you! She will be here as my guest, not yours, and I’ve always been free to invite my own guests to Oaklands.” Angela, for once, sounded almost plaintive. “I can’t put her off now, you know.”
“No. I realise that,” Ford said grimly. And, as he turned to hand Jessica out of the car, she saw that he looked pale, and as near angry as she had ever seen him.
CHAPTER TEN
HAVING once made her sensational announcement, Angela took pains to be extremely affable—not only to her brother, but to Jessica as well. She admired the car, said she thought it was a good idea that Jessica should have one of her own, and finally pressed her to stay to dinner.
Jessica was glad to be able to refuse—on the perfectly legitimate plea that the twins were expecting her home.
“You do indulge those children, don’t you?” remarked Angela in the tone of one commending Jessica’s sentimental feelings while deploring her lack of judgment.
“No,” Jessica said, a good deal nettled. “I don’t think I do. They’re very good children, and stand on their own feet well for their age. But, if I’ve told them I’ll be home, I don’t like to disappoint them without a very good reason.”
“Of course not,” Angela agreed with deceptive softness. “But I think you’d go a little far in sacrificing yourself for them,” she added reflectively. “Don’t you, Ford?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” retorted her brother impatiently. “Come along, Jessica. I’ll run you home.”
There was no suggestion of their using Jessica’s own lovely little car, and somehow the bloom had gone from the pleasure of that gift. Not that Jessica regarded her car with any less breathless admiration, nor that she felt any less grateful to Ford for his generous impulse. But the intrusion of Angela and, by implication, of Paula too, had sounded a jarring note against the very perfect harmony which had existed for a few happy minutes between her and Ford.
She hardly knew whether she was relieved or disappointed when he said he would not come in. Immediately her nervous fears told her that he was more agitated than she had thought about Paula’s coming, while she welcomed the chance of being left alone to consider the new and disagreeable situation which Angela had created. And though she thanked him again very eagerly for the car, she thought he looked a little sombre as he kissed her—as though to him too the car had become of secondary importance.
The twins greeted her cheerfully, and Judy thrust her books into her satchel with a thankful “That’s done!”
“Did you get your geometry right in the end?” asked Jessica sympathetically.
“Well, I finished it,” said Judy with a nice distinction of meaning. “In a way,” she added.
“What do you mean—’in a way’?” Jessica felt bound to enquire.
“Well, I got an answer,” Judy explained. “Only it seems very improbable.”
“Maths answers are more often improbable than not,” her brother assured her consolingly, and Judy seemed content to leave the matter there.
“Anyway, I shall get a few marks for trying,” she remarked cheerfully.
Jessica felt that she ought to point out that this was a rather poor standard of performance at which to aim. But, just as she was about to say so, Judy diverted her attention by asking, “Any news from Oaklands?”
“No. What news should there be?” Jessica spoke quickly and a trifle defensively because she was very conscious of the news there had been about Paula. Then she recalled Ford’s gift to her, and added hastily, “At least—yes, there is some news. Ford has given me a wonderful present. What do you think it is?”
Judy made various wild guesses, ranging from a puppy to a diamond tiara. But Tom just thought deeply for a few moments and then said solemnly:
“Is it a car?”
“Yes,” Jessica said, a good deal surprised. “How did you know?”
“A car!” screamed Judy delightedly. “What sort of a car? Do you mean a car for your very own?”
Jessica smiled and nodded, while Tom forged on with his own deductions.
“I bet it was that ripping red coupe he was driving up from the station. When I saw it, I knew it was new, and I didn’t see what Ford needed with a new car himself, and he wouldn’t give one to anyone but you, so I wondered even then.”
Jessica looked at her brother with something like respect, while Judy cried:
“Oh, I wish I’d noticed it more!”
“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to notice it now,” Jessica pointed out soothingly. “Now eat up your supper.”
Judy proceeded to do so, though with many pauses to ask searching questions about the car, while Tom interjected highly technical enquiries from time to time —none of which Jessica was able to satisfy.
“I say, you don’t know much about your own car, do you?” Judy said rather reproachfully at last.
“Well, I didn’t have very long to examine it,” Jessica objected.
“Didn’t you? Why not?”
“Well—” J
essica hesitated, and thought of Angela coming in and spoiling the pleasure which she and Ford had been finding in each other and the car. “Oh, Angela came in, and we were talking about other things, you know.”
“More interesting things than the car?” enquired Judy sceptically.
“She wanted to speak to Ford about a friend of hers who is coming to stay.”
“Oh,” said Judy, and was so obviously going to ask further interested questions that Jessica was extremely relieved to see her gaze shift suddenly to the gate and that part of the path which could be seen from the window. “Here are Mary and David back again,” she exclaimed in a tone of pleased speculation.
Jessica followed her glance with some surprise, and saw that this was indeed the case. David, she thought, might quite well have found his way back, with the idea of further discussion, or Mary might have come over, as she so often did, for a casual chat. But that they should have come back together, like this, seemed to call for some specific reason.
The front door always stood open at this time of year, and Mary was sufficiently at home at The Mead to wander in and out as she pleased. After a moment, her voice called from the hall:
“Hello! Anyone at home?”
“Yes. We’re all here,” cried Judy. And, jumping up, she ran to meet Mary in the doorway. “Hello, Mary. I’m glad you looked in again. What do you think? Ford has bought Jessica a car. Isn’t that a marvellous present?”
“Marvellous,” agreed Mary, standing in the doorway and smiling round gaily on everyone. “But Jess isn’t the only one to have a present to-day, Judy. David has brought me a present—and what do you think that is?”
“Goodness, I can’t imagine!” declared Judy, finding it too much to be asked to guess twice in one day.
So Mary just laughed and held out her left hand, and they all saw that a very lovely sapphire ring glittered on her “engagement” finger.
“Mary, how lovely!” shrieked Judy, while Tom said, rather aggravatingly, “I’m not a bit surprised.”
“You horrid child! Of course you are,” declared Mary cheerfully, while Jessica could only say, “Darling, how—how amazing!” and then look past Mary to where David was standing, smiling, with the satisfied air of a man who knows he has done a very good day’s work.
She got up then, and came to Mary, to throw her arms round her and kiss her, and exclaim with the utmost sincerity, “I’m so glad, dear! I’m so terribly glad!”
And this was nothing less than the truth. For, however puzzled she might be by the situation—in view of what she had thought until this moment—she knew, in that moment when she saw Mary and David standing there together smiling, that her two dearest friends belonged inevitably to each other, and that they were going to be doubly dear because they were together.
“Well, Jess”—David smiled and held out his hand to her—”you didn’t give very much for my chances, did you? But it seems I was luckier than either of us guessed.”
“Oh, David!” With a little gasp, Jessica seized the hand he held out to her. “What an idiot I was!” And she hoped he would never know that, when he had asked her, as Mary’s nearest friend, what his chances were, she had been so ridiculous as to suppose that he was asking about his chances with herself.
“Don’t blame yourself,” David said with a laugh. “Mary’s very good at concealing her feelings. I wouldn’t have given much for my chances myself two hours ago.”
“I like that!” declared Mary with amused candour. “You concealed your feelings so well that I didn’t know whether it was Jess or Angela Onderley that you were after.”
“Oh, Mary!” David laughed and pulled a face. “I don’t mind your thinking I could fall in love with Jess. Anyone could.” And he gave Jessica an affectionate smile, which was entirely devoid of distress or self-consciousness. “But you do my taste less than justice if you think I could fall for Angela. Though I suppose it’s very ungallant of me to say so,” he added reflectively.
“No, it isn’t,” declared Jessica with considerable energy. For the mention of Angela made her recall, with something like fury, that it was she who was entirely responsible for starting the ridiculous misapprehension.
That Angela might honestly have made some wrong guesses was understandable. But that she should have stated categorically that David confessed frankly to a passion for Jessica could be nothing less than a plain lie.
“Detestable girl!” thought Jessica with quite unusual heat. “No doubt she saw David had a sort of affectionate, friendly concern for me, and she decided to work that up into something else. I expect she told him, in his turn, that I should probably be forced to marry her brother in order to keep a roof over the children’s heads! That would account for his more than friendly worry when I announced my engagement to Ford.”
The more Jessica thought about it, the more certain she became that she had hit on the explanation for the series of misunderstandings, and it was all she could do to keep herself from asking David point-blank if Angela had made any such suggestion to him.
However, realising that the less other people knew about Angela’s scheming, the less damage there would be done, she managed to contain herself, and joined with sincerity in the congratulations and discussions which naturally followed.
It seemed that neither Mary nor David thought there was any need for a long engagement.
“I dare say we shall be married about the same time as you, Jess,” Mary said.
“How lovely,” Judy exclaimed. “Won’t Mrs. Forrest be pleased? She likes weddings.”
No one felt able to testify conscientiously to Mrs. Forrest’s probable pleasure, since all felt that she had never really intended David to marry at all. So there was a short and noncommittal silence, and then Mary said:
“I like your frock, Jess. It’s new, isn’t it?”
“Um-hm. There’s a three-quarter length coat that goes with it. Come on upstairs and I’ll show you,” Jessica said, seizing the opportunity for a few minutes alone with her friend. “You can have ten more minutes, children, with David, and then it’s definitely bed,” she added over her shoulder as she and Mary went out of the room.
The moment they were alone together, Jessica flung her arm round Mary and hugged her.
“Are you frightfully happy, darling?”
“Yes. And frightfully relieved,” Mary admitted with candour, and they both laughed.
“Didn’t you really guess that David was keen?” Jessica enquired, curious to find whether others had been as far out as she in their guesses.
“Well, yes. At least, sometimes I felt nearly sure. But the fact was, of course, that David didn’t intend to have anything too obvious until his mother was out of the way,” Mary explained frankly. “There’s no good in pretending she won’t be pretty mad, poor pet, though, of course, she’ll get used to the idea, and she likes me personally.”
“I’m sure she does,” interrupted Jessica warmly.
“But she would have nipped things in the bud if it had struck her there was any bud to nip,” Mary retorted shrewdly, but without rancour. “And I don’t think David meant to have any trouble of that sort. He’s extraordinarily determined, for all his sweet nature, you know.”
“So while he was busy hiding things from his mother, he also succeeded in hiding them, to a certain extent, from you?” suggested Jessica amusedly.
“Something like that,” Mary agreed. “And then he was so anxious and concerned over you that—I know you’ll think this ridiculous, Jess—there was a time when I wondered if it were you he was keen on.”
“I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all,” Jessica said with some humour. “The same idea struck me, as a matter of fact,” and she laughed heartily, because it was such a relief to be able to be frank with Mary about this.
“No. Did it really?” Mary laughed, too, but with a shade of worry in her tone. Then, after a minute she said, “Tell me frankly, Jess—there isn’t—I mean—you aren’t the least bit disappo
inted about—about David and me, are you?”
“Not the very least bit in the world, darling!” Jessica assured her with amused emphasis. “I think David’s a darling, and I can’t imagine anything nicer than you two marrying. I can tell you—I was a good deal upset when it did pass through my mind that he was keen on me, and I’m inexpressibly delighted that it should have been you.”
“That’s all right, then,” Mary said, with a relieved smile.
“Though I’m flattered to think,” Jessica added mischievously, “that David should have been so kindly concerned about my illness that we both thought he was in love with me.”
Mary laughed, bit her lip, and then said a little doubtfully:
“It wasn’t only about your illness that he was worried, you know.”
“No?” Jessica raised her eyebrows. “About what else?”
“About your marriage, Jess. And he still is—and so am I.”
“You have no need to be,” Jessica said slowly, almost coldly. But Mary cut quickly across her denial:
“I hope that’s true, but I’m not quite sure. There’s something that has to be said, Jess. which must seem not at all my business, and yet”—Mary frowned—”I’ve got to say it. I can’t help knowing—we both can’t help knowing—that, except for Ford Onderley’s proposal of marriage, you and the twins would have had to accept the sort of life with your uncle and aunt which you would all have hated. I can’t get it out of my mind that you may be marrying a man you don’t care about, simply to provide a happy home for the children.”
“You needn’t worry about that,” Jessica interrupted, leaning back against the end of her bed and speaking quite steadily. “It just isn’t true.”
“Well, of course you’d have to say that,” Mary said. “I should do just the same myself. And it’s nobody’s business but your own whether it is the truth or not. But what I want to do—what David and I both want to do—is to remove that sense of compulsion from you, so that you can make a perfectly free choice, Jess.”
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