“What do you mean by ‘about with Rosamond’? Rather an odd expression, it seems to me. She has had one or two business conversations with him on Jenny’s behalf, I believe. The silly child scribbles. A lot of nonsense, I daresay, but it has helped to keep her amused. Mr. Lester belongs to a publishing firm, and it seems Jenny sent him some of her rubbish. I am told it has become the fashion to publish the writings of children and of uneducated persons. Another symptom of modern decadence!”
Mrs. Merridew beamed.
“Is Jenny really going to have something published? How exciting for her!”
Miss Crewe had removed her gloves before partaking of Florrie’s scones. Her impatient gesture set the colours flashing in the crowded rings. Miss Silver reflected that it could not be good for the settings to be worn really jostling one another in such a manner. Such fine stones too-diamond, emerald, sapphire, ruby. And very much better kept than was often the case with the rings which elderly ladies wore.
The impatience was not in gesture alone. It was in Miss Crewe’s voice as she said,
“Certainly not! Even if it were proposed, I shouldn’t allow it! Mr. Lester appears to have enough sense to agree that she is too young, but he seems to think that there might be a prospect later on, and he has been advising her as to what she should read. She should, of course, be at school. Her education has been disastrously interrupted, and Rosamond spoils her in a ridiculous manner, but the very first moment she can be packed off I shall certainly see that it is done.”
Mrs. Merridew gave a little gasp of dismay.
“Rosamond won’t like that at all!” she said with more truth than tact.
Miss Crewe began to put on her gloves-black kid, very old and rubbed. The flashing rings were swallowed up, the fingers stroked down over them.
“Rosamond will do as she is told,” said Lydia Crewe.
Mrs. Merridew evaded the issue. It was sometimes exceedingly difficult not to quarrel with Lydia, and it wasn’t any good, besides being so awkward in a village. She pulled down the old grey and black checked shirt which was rather too tight and had an embarrassing tendency to ride up and said,
“Dr. Lester was always so kind, and very clever too. I was so glad to hear that he keeps well.”
Lydia Crewe gave a short unpleasant laugh.
“I thought you said you had no conversation with the nephew.” Tone and phrasing removed Craig to a distance quite beyond her own circle.
“Well, it was really Mrs. Stubbs-”
Miss Crewe’s eyebrows rose.
“Village gossip? My dear Marian!”
Mrs. Merridew flushed.
“I was so glad to have news of him. Mr. Lester is most attentive to his uncle. It is not every young man who would take so much trouble. He tells Mrs. Stubbs that Dr. Lester is really wonderful- asking after everyone at Hazel Green and most interested.”
Miss Crewe pushed back her chair with a jerk and got up.
“I always thought him a very disagreeable and sarcastic old man,” she said, and made her farewells.
When she had gone out under the arching yews, Mrs. Merridew told Miss Silver all about the engagement to Henry Cunningham and the breach which now existed.
“Nobody really does know quite what happened, but he went away in a hurry and poor Lydia changed very much. There is no doubt that she was very fond of him, but I have always wondered how it would have turned out-if they hadn’t quarrelled, I mean, or whatever it was that happened. Because he was really very young. She must have been quite ten years older than he was, and not at all an adaptable person, if you know what I mean.”
Miss Silver said that she knew perfectly.
Mrs. Merridew gave a reminiscent sigh.
“Well, there it was. She was quite handsome in those days, but never what you would call attractive to men-too much inclined to lay down the law, and always wanting her own way, and of course they don’t like that, do they? But she and Lucy Cunningham were the greatest friends, and she saw a lot of Henry. I don’t want to say anything unkind, but it always seemed to me that he didn’t have much chance. He was only just down from Cambridge and rather at a loose end-and then there was this silly scandal-”
Miss Silver was brightly attentive.
“I don’t think you told me about that, Marian.”
Mrs. Merridew hesitated.
“No-no-I don’t suppose I did. It was a very stupid affair. The Maberlys have left the neighbourhood, and it’s better forgotten-only of course these things never are-not really.”
Miss Silver had added several inches to little Josephine’s hood. She looked across the bright wool with her head very slightly on one side and said,
“You interest me extremely.”
After being snubbed by Lydia Crewe this was balm to the feelings. Mrs. Merridew relaxed and gave herself up to what a rather startling poet has described as “the rapture of the tongue’s prolonged employ.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter with you, for you don’t know any of the people. The Maberlys were immensely rich. He was a company promoter or something like that, and they rather threw their money about. It was all a little ostentatious, but I think they meant to be kind. She certainly did, but you know how it is. Her clothes were much too new and too expensive, and she wore too much jewelry. And then she lost a very valuable diamond ring, and somehow it began to be put about that Henry Cunningham had taken it. I can’t remember all the ins and outs, and one never does know how that kind of rumour starts, but there it was. I didn’t believe it myself, because-well, one doesn’t, not about people you know, and Mrs. Maberly was the sort of woman who couldn’t even go out to tea without leaving her bag or a scarf, and she might have taken off the ring and left it simply anywhere. I remember they dined with us at the Grange, and she was showing us a very handsome bracelet which her husband had given her for Christmas. Well, after they had gone the butler found it behind the cushion in her chair. It had slipped down where the loose cover was tucked in, and really it might not have been found for a day or two, because we were short-handed even then-and as Lucas said at the time, it wouldn’t have been at all pleasant. So you see, Mrs. Maberly might have done anything with that ring.”
“It was never found?”
“I really don’t know. The Maberlys went away. He had business interests in the States, and they went over there for a time- I don’t think they stayed anywhere for very long. So she might have found the ring and never troubled to let us know-she was one of those good-natured, casual women. And meanwhile Henry Cunningham went away and never came back. Nobody knows whether it was the talk, or whether he just got into a panic about marrying Lydia. His sister Lucy did nothing but cry, and poor Lydia just turned to stone. Nobody dared ask her what had happened, and it wasn’t any good asking Lucy, because she obviously didn’t know. Oh, well, it’s all a long time ago.”
Miss Silver pulled on her cherry-coloured ball.
“But Mr. Cunningham came back in the end?”
Mrs. Merridew nodded.
“About three years ago. Such a surprise-and of course he was very much changed. But Lucy was so pleased. She went about telling everyone what an interesting life he had had, but I think he had really been one of those rolling stones, and I don’t believe she knows a great deal about it.”
“And Miss Crewe?”
“Oh, my dear, that is the embarrassing part of it. As far as Lydia is concerned, he hasn’t come back at all. Of course in a village they are bound to meet, and she just cuts him dead- stares straight at him and walks past as if he wasn’t there. Why, only this afternoon-”
She went on talking about Lydia Crewe.
CHAPTER 10