“No,” said Mrs. Forbes. “And as the silly child has left half her things behind, I shall be grateful for her address.”
“Well, I don’t know the name of Miss Danesworth’s house, but my cousin is Mrs. Merridew and she lives next door-Mrs. Merridew, Ambleworth, Hazeldon. I’m sure she’d be only too pleased to be of any use. She’ll see that Jenny gets the parcel, I’m sure.”
Mrs. Forbes made herself give a civil answer. She was about to turn away, when Miss Crampton said,
“Of course you know this Richard Forbes?”
Mrs. Forbes was too taken aback to be altogether wise. She said, “What Richard Forbes?” and she said it more sharply than she should have done.
Miss Crampton was delighted. Her smile bordered on the genial as she said,
“Why, don’t you know him? How very extraordinary! He is Miss Danesworth’s nephew. She has the house next to my cousin Mrs. Merridew, and Jenny is staying with her. You surely knew that!”
Mrs. Forbes said firmly, “Oh, yes. Yes, of course. You confused me. Oh-so Jenny is with Miss Danesworth-and the nephew is staying there, too-”
Miss Crampton didn’t know when she had felt so pleased and excited.
“My dear Mrs. Forbes, they arrived together! He and Jenny arrived together at seven o’clock in the morning! What do you think of that?”
Mrs. Forbes was brought to a standstill. Her tongue burned with the things which she must on no account say to Miss Crampton. How she restrained herself, she did not know. She stood quite still and gathered herself together.
“A most inconvenient time to arrive anywhere,” she said. “The young man is a cousin of ours of course, but a very distant one. I’ve never met him myself, but I believe that Jenny has. I forget where. It may have been with those friends she made at school, but I really forget.”
Miss Crampton was enjoying herself. She said, “Oh, really?” and Mrs. Forbes said, “Yes,” in her most decided voice. And then,
“Well, I’ll be getting home. Good-morning, Miss Crampton.”
Miss Crampton went home and sat down and wrote a letter to her cousin Mrs. Merridew.
“My dear Laura,
Your letter has interested me very much indeed. I met Mrs. Forbes in the village shop this morning, and I don’t think there is the slightest reason to suppose that she knew where Jenny had gone. It is really the most extraordinary thing, and I can only imagine that the girl had run away. You know, you didn’t meet her when you were here with me two years ago, because she was still at school then. And you didn’t meet Mrs. Forbes either. But I spoke to you about the girl, and you seemed quite interested. Only you seem to have forgotten that her name is not Forbes at all. She is the illegitimate child of the Richard Forbes to whom Alington then belonged. He was killed in the war. And Jenny’s mother came back to her old governess Miss Garstone, right at the gates of Alington House. I must say Miss Garstone behaved in a very peculiar way about the girl. No one was allowed to see her. Miss Garstone said she was ill. And I did hear that she never spoke. Not from Dr. Horton, who was most aggravating about the whole thing. He was attending my dear Father at the time-it was during his last illness- and you would have thought he would have spoken freely to me. But no! Not at all! He simply said, ‘Ah, Miss Crampton, sad things do happen during a war.’ And he went on to say that the only thing to do was to leave the girl alone. Alone! She wanted rousing-I said so all along. And I was perfectly right, because she died when the baby was born. Which shows! But to return to this girl Jenny. From what you say, it looks to me as if she was pretending to Miss Danesworth and to this Mr. Forbes that she was legitimate. That is to say, if you are right about her calling herself Jenny Forbes. It doesn’t do to make a mistake about that sort of thing. Please write again without delay and let me know on this point. If Jenny is really passing herself off as a Forbes, Miss Danesworth should be informed and the fraud exposed.
Your affectionate cousin
Melita Crampton.”
Mrs. Forbes walked home. At first indignation lent her a certain force. She moved quickly and with a very determined tread. And then, as she got out of the village, her step slackened and she began to walk slowly and yet more slowly. She had felt as if the time taken to walk up to Alington House was too long. She couldn’t wait to get on the phone to Mac, and to tell him what she had just been told.
And then, as her first fury died down and her step slackened, a change came over her mood. The girl in the telephone exchange-she would be listening. Mrs. Forbes didn’t see her missing a call at this juncture. She would know all about Jenny going off, and she would listen her very hardest to any call from Mrs. Forbes to Mac. She came slowly up the drive and into the house. She must write-that was what she must do. She mustn’t do anything to show alarm. She must write to Mac.
It was unlucky for Meg that she chose this moment to intrude.
“Mother-”
Mrs. Forbes turned.
“What are you doing here?”
Joyce would have run away, but Meg stood her ground.
“I only wanted to know-about Nanna’s kitten. It’s the dearest little thing-black with greeny blue eyes-and it will be ready to come away from its mother in a fortnight. But Nanna wanted to know, because her niece would have it if we don’t.”
Mrs. Forbes turned a quite uncomprehending look upon her little daughter. She simply didn’t know what the child was talking about. Her temper had begun to rise.
“What is it-what is it?”
Meg began again. Grown-up people were very stupid. She had put it quite plainly.
“It’s Nanna’s black kitten-the one she was keeping for us-for Joyce and me. It’s got a white star on its chest, and it’s the dearest little thing -it really is. Please, Mother, do let us have it.”
Mrs. Forbes turned on her.
“I thought I told you to go up to the schoolroom! Don’t you know enough not to disobey me?”
Meg knew danger when she saw it. She saw it now. It was not the time to continue the conversation about the kitten. She scuffled away, and Mrs. Forbes turned and went into the writing-room. She wrote:
“Dear Mac,
I have just had a very unpleasant experience. I was down in the village at Mrs. Boddles’, and that Miss Crampton was there. She is a most impertinent woman, and I have never had more to do with her than I could help, but on this occasion there was no avoiding her. She informed not only me but Mrs. Boddles and everyone else in the shop that Jenny was staying next door to her cousin Mrs. Merridew at a place called Hazeldon in the next county. It seems that she arrived at seven o’clock on Sunday morning with a young man. Goodness knows how or where she picked him up. His name, if you please, is Richard Forbes. He is probably no connection, but on the other hand I do seem to recollect your father saying something about a cousin -quite a distant one-who was killed in an air raid with his wife. They left a boy. I remember your father saying something ridiculous about seeing him through his schooling, and then later on saying it wouldn’t be necessary, as there was quite a lot of money and his mother’s sister was willing and anxious to look after the boy. That would be this Miss Danesworth whom Miss Crampton mentioned. She said that Jenny arrived next door to her cousin with this man at seven o’clock in the morning! And she said further that Jenny was calling herself Jenny Forbes! If this is a fact, it can only mean one thing-Jenny knows! How she can, I can’t imagine. I think you should come down for the week-end.
Your loving Mother.”
When she had finished the letter she went up to the schoolroom, collected Carter and the little girls, and sent them out to the post. Mac would get the letter next morning.
Mac got it. It was lying on his table when he came out of his room whistling. He stopped when he saw the letter, picked it up, and opened it. He read it through twice. Then he lit a match and set fire to it. It burned away to a black ash. He opened the window and crumbled up all that was left of it. Afterwards when he had shut the window again he stood by it for a long time thinking and planning. It wasn’t as nice weather as it had been in the country. The thought went through his mind and was gone again. How many people knew that she had written to him? He must be careful-he must be very careful. He wouldn’t go down-no, certainly he wouldn’t go down. He frowned at his hands. Some of the black ash from the burned paper had smudged them. He went into his room again and washed off the smudges. It was easy enough to have clean hands if you took a little thought.