The Fingerprint

by Patricia Wentworth

  She walked away from him to the window. The garden lay under a grey sky that was rifting to let through a glimpse of wintry blue. The lawn went on for a long way, running down to trees which fringed a stream. The trees were leafless and the tracery of bare branches stood out against the water-flow. The weather had been mild and the lawn was green. The cedar had no winter change to make. Some of last year’s cones stood up on the sweeping branches like a flock of little brown owls. Field End had been her home since she was three years old. She had been sheltered and loved there. It was Mirrie who had been the lost waif with no one to care for her. It came into her mind that the anonymous letter turned this upside down. “You think pretty well of yourself… You’ve been brought up soft… You’ve got things coming to you that you’re not going to like. Some of those who are underneath now will be on top, and you will be underneath.” The words came out of the hidden places of her thought like rats coming out of their holes in the dark. It was all too fantastic to be real. She could have put the letter in the fire and-no, she couldn’t have forgotten about it. But she would have done her best not to let it make any difference to her, or to Mirrie, or to anyone. It wasn’t the letter, it was Jonathan’s reaction to it that was turning her world upside down. She had expected him to be angry, but his anger hadn’t turned against the anonymous letter-writer, it had turned against herself. All the concern, all the protective warmth were for Mirrie whom he had known for just six weeks. There was none to spare for the girl who had felt herself a daughter to him ever since she could remember feeling anything at all.

  Anthony had come to stand beside her. He put an arm about her shoulders, but he did not speak. It was she who broke the silence, turning to face him as she did so. “I think I shall have to go away.” He said, “It will pass.”

  He wasn’t touching her any more, but they were very close. She shook her head.

  “He has changed. He hasn’t got the same feeling for me any more. I thought he would be angry about the letter, but I didn’t think he would be angry with me. He never has been before-not like that. But I’ve seen it happen with other people, even when he has known them and been friends with them for a long time. It starts with something, anything, it doesn’t seem to matter very much what, and then he goes on working himself up until there’s nothing left that’s worth keeping. I’ve known it happen half a dozen times, and there’s nothing anyone can do. It doesn’t pass, and he doesn’t come round. The other person is just wiped right off the slate for good and all.”

  “ Georgina!”

  As if she had not heard him, she said,

  “And now it’s happened to me.”

  He took her hand and found it very cold.

  “It won’t happen that way with you-it can’t! You mustn’t do anything in a hurry.”

  There was a momentary flash in the dark grey eyes.

  “I don’t think I’ll wait until he tells me to go.”

  “He won’t do that.”

  “I think he will if I give him the chance. The bother is that I’m not trained for anything. Training takes time, and one has to live.”

  He waited a little before he said soberly,

  “You know, you are making too much of this.”

  “You didn’t hear what he said.”

  “People say a lot of things they don’t mean when they are angry.”

  Her eyes were suddenly bright with tears.

  “I thought he would be angry about the letter. I couldn’t believe it when he was angry with me.”

  He said as easily as he could,

  “Oh, he just flew off the handle. He does sometimes-everyone does. You know how it is yourself. You say something because you are angry, and you go on getting angrier because you have said it. It’s a sort of buttered slide.”

  She shook her head.

  “No-no, it wasn’t like that. The letter touched it off, but what he said-Anthony, what he said was there in his mind already. I think it had been there for a long time-perhaps since very soon after he brought Mirrie here. You see, he told me he was going to alter his will.”

  “He told you that just now?”

  “Yes, just now. But he had been thinking about it before that-he must have been. He said he didn’t want me to think that his decision had been made in a hurry, or because of any indignation he might be feeling at the moment. Those are his own words. And then he went on to say he was going to make provision for Mirrie. And I said, ‘Of course,’ and he told me not to interrupt, and he asked me whether I was going to pretend I wouldn’t care if he cut me off without a penny.”

  “And what did you say to that?” The colour came up brightly in her cheeks. “I blazed. I said of course I should care, because it would mean that he didn’t care for me any more. I said I was very glad about Mirrie, and I asked him what had put such horrible ideas into his head.”

  “What did he say to that?”

  The ringing tone went out of her voice.

  “It wasn’t any good. He called Mirrie ‘that poor child,’ and said I had always been jealous of her from the first and he had been a fool not to see it. It wasn’t any use talking to him after that. I did try, but it wasn’t any good. I think everything has gone, and I don’t think there is anything that can bring it back. So I shall have to go. I can’t stay here if he doesn’t want me any longer. I oughtn’t to have said anything about it. I wasn’t going to, only you were there and it came out. I don’t want to go on talking about it any more. I want you to go”

  He went as far as the door and turned round with a jerk and came back again.

  “ Georgina -”

  She shook her head.

  “I asked you to go away.”

  “Yes, I’ll go. I just want to say-to say-”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “It’s no good your trying to stop me. It’s just that I love you very much.” He caught himself up and repeated with a change of emphasis, “I love you very much. But I expect you must know that already. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I shall go on loving you always. Will you remember that, and if there is anything I can do, will you let me do it? That’s all, my dear.”

  He went out of the room and shut the door behind him.

  Chapter VII

  MIRRIE FIELD had seen Georgina and Anthony come up the stairs and go into her sitting-room. She had, as a matter of fact, seen Anthony go down. Her room was very nearly opposite Georgina ’s bedroom and sitting-room. She came out of it, looked down the passage towards the landing, and saw Anthony at the top of the stairs. He had come from the other side of the house, and a moment after she had caught sight of him he took the first step down and was out of sight. Since there was no one to see her, she ran to the end of the corridor. She wouldn’t have run if there had been any chance of her being seen. She just wanted to catch him up as if by accident before he had time to cross the hall and go into one of the downstair rooms. But when she came to the end of the passage he had only got as far as the bottom step, and Georgina was standing just below him, looking up with her hand on the newel.

  Mirrie could see that something had happened. She stepped back quickly because she didn’t want Georgina to see her. She didn’t want anyone to think she was following Anthony Hallam. She waited until they began to come up the stairs, and then she ran back to her room, where she left the door ajar and stood behind it listening. They came along the passage and neither of them said a word. She heard them go into Georgina ’s sitting-room and shut the door. Then she came out of her room and went downstairs and across the hall to the study.

  Jonathan Field was at his table driving a furious pen. He looked up sharply as she came in, but as soon as he saw her his face changed. She had a timid look, standing there by the door, her hand still on the knob as if she were not quite certain whether to go or stay. He put down his pen and said,

  “Come along in, Mirrie.”

  She shut the door and came a few steps forward.

  “I don’t want to interrupt
-”

  “You won’t be interrupting-I wanted to see you. Come along over here and sit down.”

  He got up, fetched a chair, and laid a hand on her shoulder before seating himself again. Throughout the interview which had just ended Georgina had remained standing, but Mirrie was to sit, and to sit comfortably. His glance softened as it dwelt on her. She was wearing some of the things she had bought with the cheque he had given her, a green tweed skirt, and a jumper and cardigan that went with it. The colour suited her. He said,

  “Well, my dear, I’m just off to town to see Maudsley. He is my solicitor. I want to get on with the business I spoke to you about the other day. There’s no time like the present.”

  “Oh- Georgina didn’t tell me-”

  “ Georgina didn’t know. That is to say, I have told her that I am going to make changes in my will, but she doesn’t know that I am going up to see about it today. As a matter of fact I have only just made up my mind about that. Wills are gloomy things, and I’ll be glad to get the business over and done with. Besides I want to see you in your proper place. I want everyone to know how I think of you. It’s only right that they should. From now on it will be just the same as if you were my daughter. You have the name already, so there won’t be any need to change it, and under my will you will have just what I would leave to a daughter.”

  Her hands were clasped in her lap, her eyes were lifted to his face.

  “Oh, you are good to me!”

  “My dear child-”

  “No one has ever been good to me like you are! It’s so wonderful I can’t believe it! When you brought me here I thought how wonderful it was. And then I thought how dreadful it was going to be to go back. I used to wake up in the night and cry about it. And then you asked me whether I was happy here, and you said-and you said that if I was I could stay- always. Oh you don’t know what I felt like-you don’t know!”

  Jonathan Field was considerably affected. He got out a stiff old-fashioned linen handkerchief and blew his nose, and with a quick graceful movement Mirrie was out of her chair and down on her knees beside him.

  “Oh, darling-darling-darling! You can’t possibly know how grateful I am!”

  He pushed the handkerchief down into his breast pocket and put an arm round her.

  “Grateful, are you? Well, there’s no need for that between you and me. But you’re glad to be my little girl? That’s all I want from you, you know-just to see you happy and enjoying yourself, and to know that you’re a little bit fond of an old fellow who is quite stupidly fond of you.”

  She looked up at him through her lashes.

  “Is it stupid to be fond of me? No one has ever really been fond of me before.”

  “My darling child!”

  She said, “It’s wonderful for me. You don’t know how wonderful it is.” And then she was dropping a kiss on his hand and slipping back on to her chair, and when she was there she took a small green handkerchief out of her cardigan pocket and dabbed her eyes with it.

  Chapter VIII

  IT WAS NOT until the rest of the party met at lunch that Jonathan Field’s journey to town became generally known. Mrs. Fabian had apparently encountered him in the hall and delayed him to the point of frenzy whilst she considered whether it would be worth his while to go to the Army and Navy Stores and enquire whether a certain kind of rice was now available. As they settled themselves round the diningtable, now reduced to its smallest proportions, she proceeded to relate the incident.

  “They always used to stock it before the war, so I thought it would be a good thing if he went and asked. The other sort is not really any good for milk puddings-at least that is what Mrs. Stokes always says, though I don’t see why. But the trouble is that I never can remember which is which. There is Indian, and Carolina rice, and one of them is good for milk puddings and the other isn’t. There wasn’t time for me to go and ask Mrs. Stokes. Really men are terribly impatient when they are starting for anywhere, and I don’t see that it could possibly matter as he was going by car, and I thought if he were just to ask them at the Stores they would be able to tell him-about which was which and the milk puddings, you know. But he seemed to be in such a hurry. Really he might have had half a dozen trains to catch instead of going all the way in his comfortable car! So I thought it would be best to leave it-especially when he said he had an appointment with Mr. Maudsley! Of course solicitors are very busy people, and I am sure they must make a great deal of money-at least my Uncle James always said they did. He was my father’s brother but they didn’t get on very well, and he kept on having lawsuits, so when he died there wasn’t any money at all. He used to get quite worked up about lawyers. I remember his getting a terribly large bill after a lawsuit he had over a dispute about some property on the borders of Wales which had come to him from his grandmother. I know he quoted a verse about it, and my mother was quite distressed. Now let me see if I can remember it-

  ‘Find me a parson that will not lie-’ She broke off and cast a deprecating look round the table. “Really that was very rude and uncalled for, but the person who wrote it may have had some unfortunate experience. Perhaps I had better begin again-

  ‘Find me a parson that will not lie,

  And a webster that is leal,

  And a lawyer that will not steal,

  And lay these three a dead corpse by,

  And by the virtue of these three

  The said dead corpse shall quickened be.’

  “But I’m not sure that I’ve got the lines in the right order, because after all it is quite a long time ago.”

  Johnny Fabian burst out laughing and said,

  “A bit hard on websters, don’t you think? I should have thought weaving was a most respectable trade-poor but honest and all that sort of thing. So Jonathan has gone up to see his solicitor, has he? Who is he going to cut out of his will?”

  It was purely a matter of luck that Stokes at that moment should have been out of the room. No one who knew Johnny could have deceived himself into imagining that the mere presence of a butler would be any check upon his tongue. Mrs. Fabian said, “My dear boy!” in a tone of indulgent reproof, Georgina looked across the table at him. But he only laughed.

  “Hush-not a word! What an inhibited lot we are. The more passionately interested you are in a subject, the worse form it is to mention it. Everyone is passionately interested in wills, but we mustn’t mention them.”

  Anthony said, “Dry up, Johnny!” and Stokes came back into the room bearing a covered silver dish. With the ease of long practice Johnny accomplished a dexterous verbal slide.

  “Anyone who pretends not to be interested in money is either a fool or a knave. If you’ve got any you’ve got to keep it breeding, and if you’re not interested enough to do that you wake up one day and find it’s gone and left you! If you haven’t got the stuff you have to work frightfully hard to get it, and if I’ve got to tell the truth and shame the devil I don’t mind saying it’s a rotten prospect. When you’ve got to do a twelve-hour grind every day, what’s the good of being rich? You just end up like the millionaires who live on tabloids and spend their vacations having a rest-cure in some expensive nursing home. On the other hand there’s something dreary about being poor.”

  Mrs. Fabian was beginning to help a dish of chicken and mushrooms which had been placed before her. She said,

  “ Georgina, my dear-this is always so good. Mirrie-Anthony-I am sure you must be hungry, and I don’t have to ask about Johnny.”

  She had an odd slapdash way of wielding a spoon and fork. Stokes, already outraged by not being allowed to hand the dish, watched gloomily whilst what he afterwards described as drips and drabs clouded the surface of a carefully polished table. When she had come down to helping herself, and he had been permitted to hand artichokes and potatoes, he was dismissed.

  “Thank you, Stokes-you can just leave the vegetables in front of Mr. Anthony.” Then, when he had gone out of the room, she broke in upon the general conversation
with a heartfelt, “Oh, yes, that is so true-what Johnny was saying about being poor. My father had a very good living, but he hadn’t any private means, so when he and my mother died in the same year there wasn’t anything left, and I went to live with my father’s aunts. It was very good of them, because they hadn’t really enough for themselves, but they took me in and brought me up, and when they died I wasn’t young and I had never been trained for anything. What they had been living on went to another branch of the family, so it really was quite a frightening prospect. One should not concern oneself with money, but it is very difficult not to do so when people keep sending in their bills and you haven’t anything to pay them with.”

  Johnny, who was sitting next to her, leaned over, patted her arm, and said,

  “Darling, desist. We shall all burst out crying in a minute.”

  She met his laughing look with an astonished one.

  “Oh, no, my dear, that would be foolish-and there is no need, because everything turned out for the best. Your father was a widower and you were only four years old, so of course he needed someone to come and run the house. But after a little he engaged a housekeeper and asked me to marry him, because he thought it would work out better that way. And so it did, and we were all very happy together until he died. And even then we should have been quite comfortably off if he had not put so much of his money into a South American mine. Dear me, I am keeping you all waiting and letting my chicken get cold! Won’t anyone else have some more? It is so good.”

  Anthony and Johnny responded by passing up their plates, and then Mrs. Fabian thought she would have a little more herself, and perhaps another artichoke and just one potato.

  On a formal occasion Georgina would play hostess, but when it was just a family party it was customary to allow Mrs. Fabian the place of honour. Today Anthony Hallam was in Jonathan’s place, Georgina on his right with her back to the windows, Mirrie and Johnny on his left. He leaned toward Georgina and said,