Return to Jalna. Mazo de la Roche

has nothing to do with it. I told you expressly that Miss Adeline was not to ride at any more shows this fall.”

      “I thought you’d changed your mind.”

      “When I change my mind you can be certain I’ll let you know. Adeline, go to your room and get into bed. I must telephone for the doctor. You will please wait here, Wright.”

      “Shall I carry the young lady upstairs, ma’am?” he asked.

      “I don’t need any help,” said Adeline. She began to mount the stairs, helping herself up by the banister. Archer followed close behind her.

      Alayne, rigid with anger, went into the library and telephoned to the doctor. Rags ostentatiously took the sheepdog by the scruff and pushed him down into the basement.

      Alayne, returning from the telephone, laid her hand on the carved newel post. From there she spoke to Wright.

      “I have had quite enough,” she said, “of your interference and your opposition to everything I wish to do. I will not endure it any longer. You can take a month’s notice from tonight.”

      The man went white. He had expected a severe reprimand — not this. He knew that it would be easy for him to get another situation, one with higher wages, but he had been at Jalna for more than twenty years, he had reached a time of life when he did not like change. He had trained many horses for Renny Whiteoak. He had ridden at innumerable shows on Renny’s horses, at Renny’s side. He had looked forward to keeping the stables in good order against his return. He had a real sense of loyalty toward Renny’s daughter. He said:

      “That’s pretty hard, ma’am, considering the way I’ve worked here. You won’t get another man to do it.”

      “I don’t wish to discuss the matter with you,” Alayne said coldly. “You will consider yourself discharged. If my daughter has a serious illness, you will be entirely to blame.” She turned and left him. Her legs felt heavy, her whole body dragged down, as she climbed the stairs.

      Wright, seething with anger, descended the stairs into the basement. Rags was mounding a tray with dishes to carry up to the dining room. His wife, crimson-faced, was drawing a pan of baked fish from the oven. Both turned expectant faces on Wright.

      “Well,” he said, “I’m fired.”

      “Naow!” exclaimed Rags, unbelievingly.

      “What’ll she be up to next!” cried Mrs. Wragge.

      “Firing us, I’ll bet,” said Rags. “Thinks she can run the ’ole blooming plice alone.”

      “She’s got a superiority complex, if ever anyone had,” added his wife. “Now she come down here yesterday and tried to tell me —”

      Wright interrupted, “If she thinks she can fire me she’s mistaken. I won’t go.”

      “Waon’t gao!” echoed Rags. “Ow can you ’elp yourself?”

      “The boss engaged me and he can fire me — if he wants to — when he comes home. She ain’t got the authority.” Colour was returning to his ruddy face. “Why, this here place would be sunk if I was to leave.”

      He remained in the kitchen expatiating on this subject till the ringing of the front doorbell announced the arrival of the doctor.

      Stout, white-haired Dr. Drummond took a serious view of Adeline’s knee. If the hospital were not so over-crowded, he said, he would recommend that she should be taken there. Alayne declared herself capable of doing everything necessary. She would telephone Pheasant to come to her aid.

      Hot compresses were to be applied all night to the knee.

      When she and Adeline were alone together the child said ruefully, “Oh, Mummy, it’s a shame that you should have to stay up all the night with me, when you have to take Archer to the hospital tomorrow.”

      “Don’t worry about me.” With an effort Alayne kept her voice calm. “But let this be a lesson to you. In future try to remember that sometimes I know what is best for you.”

      “I will.” Adeline gave a little moan and turned her face to the wall.

      It would have been logical for Alayne to ask Meg to come to her aid but they never had got on well together. She disliked the thought of asking a favour of Meg so she telephoned to Pheasant who gladly undertook to share the nursing. Adeline became more and more restless. By midnight she was delirious. Alayne again sent for the doctor. The little girl was in acute pain and only a strong sedative relieved her.

      It was a haggard Alayne who set off the next morning with Archer, dressed in his Sunday suit, a look of mingled self-importance and apprehension in his eyes. Wright was there with the car to drive them to the hospital. He avoided Alayne’s eyes as he held open the door of the car. It was a wet morning with the first chill of autumn in the air. If only, thought Alayne, Renny were there to take some of the load of responsibility from her shoulders. It was too much for her. She felt weighed down by it.

      At the entrance to the hospital Wright asked, half- sullenly: “How is the young lady this morning, ma’am?”

      “Very ill indeed,” returned Alayne icily. “I had to send for the doctor again, in the night. He is very anxious about her.”

      Wright made no reply. “The brute!” thought Alayne. “To think that he had nothing to say. I’m glad I discharged him. I’m glad.”

      She had been able to get a private room for Archer. He was pleased by this and stood docile while the nurse prepared him for bed. Alayne could see that the nurse admired him.

      “He’s an old-fashioned little boy,” said the nurse.

      “He is being very good,” said Alayne.

      “I promised I would, didn’t I? I always keep my promises. I’m not like some people.”

      “Listen to him!” exclaimed the nurse.

      How tiny he looked, standing there in his pyjamas! How helpless when the orderlies came with a cot on wheels and the nurse, with a jolly air, lifted him on to it. Alayne went to the door with him, holding his hand. When he was gone she came back to a chintz-covered chair and flung herself into it, almost too tired to think.

      She felt numb. A long while passed. Then she sprang up as the door opened and the sickening smell of the anaesthetic reached her. The cot appeared and Archer was put into the bed. “It is over,” thought Alayne. “Thank God, it is over.”

      “Is he all right?” she breathed.

      “He’s fine.”

      But a miserable time followed when he came out of the anaesthetic and painfully vomited up large gobbets of blood. His first remark was to make sure that the tonsils had been saved for him in a bottle.

      Alayne had intended to return to Jalna in the afternoon but Archer so clung to her that it was evening before she could bring herself to leave him. She alighted from the car and went into the house without a glance at Wright.

      Finch met her in the hall.

      “How is Adeline?” she asked.

      “Quieter. I’ve helped Pheasant with her. At this minute they both are asleep. Meg’s been here and wonders why she wasn’t sent for. She’s coming back to spend the night. So you can have a good rest. Rags has coffee waiting for you.” He tucked his arm under hers and led her comfortingly into the hall. All three dogs were there, the sheepdog’s coat wet, every disreputable hair of him beaded with mud. At sight of Alayne he rose and descended majestically into the basement.

VI A CHASTISEMENT AND A TEA PARTY

      MAURIRICE HAD SETTLED down quite comfortably into the life of home, with his mother and his two small brothers. Now he seldom had the lost feeling that had made heavy the first