Return to Jalna. Mazo de la Roche

Renny’s wife came out of the library and almost collided with him. She was carrying a vase in which there were little bronze and yellow chrysanthemums. She had worn a look of anxious concentration which had turned, first to dismay, as she had almost dropped the vase, then to pleasure at the sight of Finch.

      “Why, Finch,” she exclaimed. “You here! How nice! Why didn’t you send us word to meet you?”

      “I wanted the walk.” He kissed her cheek and took the vase from her. “Where shall I put it?” he asked.

      “Just there on the table. Do come and sit down. I want to talk to you before you go to see the uncles.”

      They went into the library, where at this hour the sun blazed.

      “Where are the dogs?” he asked, feeling a lack in the room.

      “Outdoors.” She spoke firmly, as though it had not been without struggle that she had kept them there.

      “Oh … How are the uncles?”

      “Just fairly well. They’re still up in their rooms. Are you hungry, Finch? Will you have something to eat now or wait till lunch?”

      “I’ll wait, thanks.”

      “Have some coffee.”

      “I’d love that. But first tell me how you are getting on.”

      Alayne made a gesture of despair. “You can imagine. It’s impossible to get help. There’s an enormous crop of apples. How they’re to be picked, graded, and shipped, heaven only knows. Rags and his wife are out in the orchard now. We had the threshers yesterday. We’re half-dead.”

      He made noises of sympathy. “No wonder,” he exclaimed. Then he added admiringly, “But you always look so nice, Alayne.”

      She gave a faint smile. “Thanks. See how white my hair has got.”

      “It’s lovely. Becoming too.”

      “It’s not much wonder I’m white.”

      “No. Have you heard from Renny lately?”

      “I had a letter last week. He’s still in Italy. He’s well. I believe he could have got leave if he’d tried hard enough. But he seems to think he’s indispensable. Other officers aren’t.”

      “Of course he’s a colonel now.”

      “Yes. Just think — he went over in the spring of 1940. I haven’t seen him since. When he and Piers come home — if they ever do — they’ll be different men.”

      “They’ll not change, Alayne.”

      She gave a little shrug. “Perhaps not. But they’ll find the rest of us greatly changed. They’ll not recognize their own children. Why, Finch, you should see Maurice. He’s a young man. He’s charming. But Piers won’t understand him or get on with him — even as well as he used. As for Philip, his mother can do nothing with him. Maurice has had several actual fights with him, trying to make him behave.”

      “Hmph.” Finch’s expression became grim. “I pity him when Piers comes home. How are your own children, Alayne?”

      Her face lighted in pride. “Oh, they are developing wonderfully. Adeline amazes me. When I think of what I was at her age! Really I was a baby. She will take on any sort of responsibility. I honestly believe she thinks of herself as the Master of Jalna while Renny is away. She’s as strong as a pony.”

      “And Archer?”

      “He has a remarkable mind and a will like iron. He thinks everything out for himself.”

      Again Finch muttered, “Hmph.” A nice lot were growing up at Jalna.

      He did not ask for Roma, his dead brother Eden’s daughter. He knew that the child’s presence in the house was a sore point with Alayne.

      They went to the basement kitchen and Alayne made coffee. The kitchen, with its brick floor, its deep fireplace, was quiet and warm. They sat down by the table to drink the coffee and Finch lighted a cigarette. It was not till then that Alayne said:

      “Would you like to tell me something about your — separation from Sarah?”

      “It’s not a separation. It’s a divorce. Or soon will be. As you know, she went to Reno and got what they call a divorce there. Now I’ve filed a petition in Ottawa. God knows I have grounds for it!”

      “She has married again, hasn’t she?”

      “Yes. To a Russian.”

      “And you will be free to marry!”

      “I don’t think I shall risk it again.”

      “I think you’re very sensible.”

      He gave a little laugh. “But you did, Alayne. You married again.”

      “Yes,” she returned calmly, “but I was in love with Renny before my divorce from Eden. I don’t think you’re in love with anyone, are you?”

      “Not a bit. And don’t intend to be.”

      After a silence she said, “I think you should go to see the uncles. They’ll be so delighted. Life is pretty dull for them these days. We all are so busy.” She felt that Finch did not want to talk about himself. She saw that he was nervously tired.

      He looked about the kitchen. “How peaceful it is here!” he said. “God, what a world! I’d like to stay down here till the war is over.”

      “You’d not find the Wragges very peaceful company. They’re really terrible but I don’t know how we should have got on without them.”

      A bell jangled violently. Alayne looked up at the row of bells on the wall. “That is Uncle Nick’s,” she said. “I wonder what he wants.”

      She sighed, like a poor overworked housewife. Was this the Alayne, Finch wondered, who, in the old days, had never raised her hand unless she chose. Now she said:

      “They’re not so feeble as they think they are. It is simply that they’ve been waited on hand and foot all their lives. They’re spoilt.”

      “Don’t you come,” said Finch. “I’ll get whatever it is Uncle Nick wants.”

      “Thanks. But don’t go in too suddenly.”

      “I’ll whistle as I go.”

      The bell rang again.

      “That’s the way they go on,” exclaimed Alayne, “I wonder the Wragges stand it.”

      Finch ran up the stairs. Nicholas was standing in the passage outside his bedroom. He extended both arms to Finch. He gathered him in and embraced him. He said:

      “I heard your voice below. I couldn’t wait. I wanted to see you. Gad, what a long time it seems! Ernest! Here’s Finch!”

      Ernest came out of his room. “Come right into my room,” he said. “We’ll have a good talk. You look well, dear boy, but a little tired. How nice it is to have you home again! Mooey is back. Did you know that Mooey is back? A different boy. So improved. Such good manners. Not that he wasn’t a gentle boy. But now he has a manner. He’s grown up. Ireland’s been good for him.”

      The two old men placed Finch in an armchair and beamed down at him.

      “Did you get the newspaper cuttings I sent?” asked Finch.

      “Yes, yes,” answered Ernest. “They were very good. Very appreciative. We’re very proud of you. Proud of all our nephews. But we do miss you. Things are very different here. Alayne does the best she can, poor girl, but she has no real executive ability.”

      “Alayne does very well,” put in Nicholas.

      Ernest continued, “But she has no real authority over the Wragges. They do as they like. She cannot control the children and, if we try to