“I’m afraid I’m not a doctor at all.”
“Oh? Then why did you want to see me?”
“Well, I was passing-”
“How did you know there was anything to pass, or anyone to come and see? Did you know my father and mother? If it was my father, Aunt Lydia wouldn’t be at all pleased. She has always been angry because my mother was a girl, and because my father wouldn’t change his name when he married her. If he had, we should have been Crewes and carried on the family, and now there’s no one. It makes her wild to think of Maxwells living in Crewe House, so perhaps she’ll just leave it to the nation, and Rosamond and I won’t have anywhere to go-like Vera Vavasour and her child in Passionate Hearts. Have you read Passionate Hearts? It’s by Gloria Gilmore.”
“I don’t think I have.”
“Oh, you would know if you had. It’s marvellous! I cried so much over the seventeenth chapter that Rosamond took it away. But she had to give it back again, because I wouldn’t stop crying until she did!”
He controlled his face.
“Why do women always like something that makes them cry?”
He had nearly said girls, but perceived that it would have been a mistake. Jenny was preening herself. His last minute substitute couldn’t have gone down better. As she continued to discourse upon her favourite books, he was conscious of disappointment. The Heart’s Awakening, Lady Marcia’s Secret, A Sister’s Sacrifice- If these were Rosamond’s choice-He said,
“That’s the sort of thing you like?”
She was flushed and eager.
“Oh, yes! Haven’t you read any of them?”
He shook his head.
“They’re not very much in my line.”
“What a pity! They’re lovely! But it’s so funny, Rosamond doesn’t care for them. She wants me to read dreadfully stuffy things, and why should I if I don’t like them? When I’ve got a Gloria Gilmore I just don’t care about anything in the world- not about my back or anything. Then there’s Mavis la Rue. She ’s marvellous, but Rosamond has got a regular down on her, I can’t think why. She makes you feel as if even dreadful things could be beautiful, if you know what I mean. Rosamond didn’t. And she took Passion for Two away from me even after I’d told her that. I didn’t think she would be so unkind, but she was. And I believe she had a row with Nicholas about letting me have it, because the books haven’t been nearly so exciting ever since.”
So Rosamond was not responsible for Gloria Gilmore. He experienced a ridiculous sense of relief. As he enquired, “Who is Nicholas?” Jenny made a casual gesture.
“Cunningham,” she said briefly. “He works at that place the other side of the village, Dalling Grange. Experiments for aeroplanes, you know-or perhaps you don’t, because it’s all frightfully secret. Aunt Lydia says they’ll blow us all up some day, but I expect she’s thinking about atom bombs. Anyhow I asked Nicholas, and he only laughed and said his lips were sealed.”
“He is a friend of yours?”
She sat up straight and pulled in her chin.
“I used to think he was, but now I’m not so sure-because of his giving in to Rosamond like that. He’s in love with her, you know. At least I suppose he is, because he looks at her that way, and it’s all right in a book. Gloria Gilmore and Mavis la Rue make it sound lovely, but when it’s someone you thought was your friend, and then you find out he is nothing but a trampled worm, it just looks sloppy.”
So Nicholas was sloppy about Rosamond. Craig was finding Miss Jenny Maxwell quite informative. The theme fascinated him. He pursued it.
“There’s a general consensus of opinion that people in love are apt to look silly-except to each other.”
“Rosamond isn’t in love,” said Jenny with the extremity of scorn. “She wouldn’t have time, for one thing. It’s Nicholas who is in love with her. I don’t suppose she even notices it. Aunt Lydia adores him, so he comes in and out a lot. The aunt he lives with is one of her oldest friends. They both adore Nicholas. The Cunninghams are just next door. Much too close for another house really, but it used to belong to the Crewes-a dower house for the old ladies of the family, with a way through to the garden so that they could come in and out and the family could drop in and visit them. People didn’t seem to get bored with their relations as much as they do now, and everyone thought it was a very nice arrangement. But when the money began to go wrong Aunt Lydia ’s father sold the Dower House, and of course Aunt Lydia minded dreadfully. She would mind if she had to sell a pebble off the drive, so you can imagine what she felt like when it was a whole house absolutely bang next door where she could see strangers going in and out. So it was just as well that she made friends with Miss Cunningham, wasn’t it? There was a brother too, and she fell in love with him-like Romeo and Juliet, you know. And then something happened. I don’t know what it was, because people won’t tell you. That’s one of the really horrid things about being young, and it’s no good their saying it’s the best time of your life, because it’s very- very-” She cast about her for a word and came out with “frustrating!”
Craig laughed.
“Cheer up-it will pass! ‘Youth’s a stuff will not endure’.”
She made a child’s face at him.
“That’s what people always say about the things they don’t have to put up with themselves! What was I saying? Oh, about Henry Cunningham. Nobody knows what happened-at least if they do they won’t tell. But he went away for more than twenty years, and Aunt Lydia never got over it. It’s frightfully difficult to think of anybody as old as Aunt Lydia ever having been in love, isn’t it? And very depressing too, because there’s a picture of her in the drawing-room quite nice-looking, and she’s pretty frightful now.”
It was at this rather embarrassing moment that Rosamond Maxwell opened the door. Her quiet manner held, but it had been shaken. She was even paler than she had been. He guessed at the effort which steadied her voice as she said,
“My aunt would very much like to see you, Mr. Lester.”
Jenny made an abrupt movement.
“What on earth for! He’s come to see me, hasn’t he!”
“I’ll bring him back, Jenny. You can go on with your talk afterwards. I think Aunt Lydia would like to see him now.”
Jenny’s spoilt-child expression warned him that he had better get out of the room as quickly as possible. Her protests followed him as she shut the door.
A little way along the passage he stopped.
“She seems to think I’m a doctor.”
Rosamond said, “Oh-” And, “You haven’t talked to her then?”
“Oh, yes, we’ve talked.”
He wondered what she would say if she knew how frank that talk had been.
“But not about her writing-”
“Mostly about how much she admires the great works of Miss Gloria Gilmore.”
Rosamond threw up a hand.
“What can I do! She does love them so, and they are really quite harmless. It is Nicholas Cunningham who brings them. His aunt has shelves and shelves of them, but I’ve told him not to bring any more of the la Rue woman’s stuff. Broken Vows and Passion for Two! Jenny was so cross when I took them away, but they were really nasty. I don’t think the others will do her any harm.”
He made a wry face.
“Children like sugar.”
Her smile came and went. It was a little tremulous.
“Don’t say that to Jenny.” Then, on an urgent note, “We mustn’t stand here talking. Aunt Lydia doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
She took him along to the door which she had opened before, went a little way in, stood aside for him to pass her, and said,
“Mr. Lester, Aunt Lydia.”