ORRIS'S LETTER
JOCK arrived at Pinestones about eleven o'clock the next morning. Dan
opened the door, and looked rather scared when he saw him.
"I want to see Miss Archer."
Dan hesitated, then led the way to the drawing-room, and in a few
moments Reyne appeared.
"Is Mrs. Calthrop staying here?" he asked, after they had shaken hands.
"Yes, for the night. Mother begged her to stay longer, but she and her
son are going to the 'Golden Bells' in the village. They seem to prefer
it. How is Orris? I can't tell you how upset the Calthrops are. Mrs.
Snow has told them that it must have been through some carelessness of
Orris's that the fire took place. I can't understand it, but I'm sure
Orris is not responsible for it, and I told Mrs. Calthrop so. She is
going to the farm this afternoon to see her."
"No, she isn't," said Jock, smiling. "I must see this good lady.
Wish me well through a most unpleasant interview, Miss Archer. It is
imperative that I should see her, but I think she will decline to do
it. You must get us together, for I'm not going away till I've had an
interview."
Reyne looked at him a little uncertainly. He spoke so decisively that
she felt he would not be easily turned away.
"I will go up to her. She has not left her room yet."
"Thank you. I hoped you would be my messenger; the fat would be in the
fire if you sent old Snuffy."
When she left him, Jock paced to and fro in the big drawing-room with
compressed lips. Once he paused, and with his hands in his pockets
stood looking out of the long windows, facing the garden. Then it was
that a dreamy look came into his eyes.
"I wonder," he murmured, "how soon I shall win her."
It was a long time before Mrs. Calthrop appeared. He judged rightly.
She had at first flatly declined to see him, and said it was great
impertinence for him to come near the house, but Reyne pleaded his
cause.
"I think it is on some urgent business matter. He would not come here
unless it was. He is generally too hard at work to make morning calls.
He may bring you a message from Miss Coventry. He works on the farm
where she lodges."
"From what I hear," said Mrs. Calthrop with asperity, "they are
continually together. And his behaviour towards the old housekeeper
here has been most insolent. He can have nothing to say to me."
"He may have discovered the origin of the fire. I told him I would
bring you down. I hope I did not do wrong."
After some further persuasion Mrs. Calthrop came downstairs.
When she opened the drawing-room door, her demeanour was haughty and
cold.
Jock looked at her, and a feeling of pity shot through his heart. Then
he said:
"I know you are surprised, and not very pleased to see me, but I shall
not stay long. This fire is a terrible affair. I conclude you have kept
up the insurance for the house and library?"
"That is my concern, not yours," said Mrs. Calthrop. "But as a matter
of fact, the insurance people are getting the police here to inquire
into the circumstances. It seems very mysterious. Miss Coventry may
throw some light upon the matter. I am going to see her this afternoon."
"That will be unnecessary when you have heard what I have to say.
Directly I heard of my aunt's death, I came home. As you must know,
the contents of her will were totally unexpected. But you acted too
precipitately. She made a later will than that which you possess, and
it is a very different one."
"I should like to see it."
Mrs. Calthrop spoke calmly, but her lips went white. She sat down, and
rested her clasped hands upon a small table in front of her.
"I have a copy of it. The original is with the lawyer in town, who drew
it up. Here it is. I should also like you to see a letter which my aunt
wrote to me. She did a very unusual and a rash thing: she sent me her
will by ordinary post, and told me to keep it until after her death.
She must have died within a few weeks of signing it."
Mrs. Calthrop took the document and letter from him. She opened the
letter first. It was as follows:
"MY DEAREST JOCK,—
"Yesterday I met the postman coming in at the gate and received your
welcome letter. I have never received any letters from you at all for
the last two years, or longer, but I am Inexpressibly thankful to know
that you have been working so well and steadily all this time. I was
led to suppose otherwise. I am not at all well. I wish you were home.
I have not been myself, and am now but a cipher in my own house. My
cousin Letitia overwhelms me.
"I cannot withstand her, and even Edmund has got upon my nerves. I
am sorry for the causes that drove you away. I shall go up to town
to-morrow and make a fresh will, 'by myself.' I am a free agent, after
all. And I shall send it out to you for safety. Wills get lost, and I
want you to come home and settle down and run the farm as you wished.
"I was unduly influenced last year after a bad attack of flu; and I
almost was made to believe that you were dead—or, at any rate, gone to
the bad altogether. And now I find that it is not true, and I'm glad
and thankful. My dearest love, and write to me again.
"Your loving aunt,
"ELLA."
Mrs. Calthrop read this letter through with icy composure. Then she
took up the copy of the will, but she did not read it.
"I would ask you to leave this with me. I would like my lawyer to see
it. It is a very extraordinary proceeding. I cannot understand such a
complete change of thought and action. Her mind must have been unhinged
at the last." Her voice was steady, but her hand trembled.
"Well," said Jock easily, "you see I'm the man in possession. I don't
want to turn Lady Violet and her daughter out. You let the house to
them for six months, so we'll let that still stand good. As regards
the library, it's as big a loss to me as it seemed to be to you, but
the insurance will help to restore the wing, if necessary. It will not
bring the books back. Those are gone for ever. Our lawyers must have a
consultation together and arrange business matters. Shall I tell Miss
Coventry you're coming to see her?"
"I shall be returning to town to-morrow," said Mrs. Calthrop. "I shall,
of course, wish to know if this later will is genuine and legal. You
will hear from me in a few days' time. Good morning!" She swept out of
the room.
And Jock gave vent to an exclamation.
"She has pluck, certainly!" he muttered to himself. And then he went
out into the hall, and almost tumbled into the arms of Mrs. Snow.
He did not chaff her as was his usual custom. He could not forget the
way in which she had talked about Orris.
"You'll remember the notice I gave you," he said gravely. "You have a
month more here, not a day longer."
Mrs. Snow stared at him, as if he were not responsible for his words.
In fact, she really did wonder whether he was right in his senses. But
he gave her no explanation, only joined Reyne and her mother, who were
taking a little walk up and down the terrace outside. In a very few
words he explained his position to them.
"The only apology I must make is the dismissing of Mrs. Snow, who is no
doubt serving you well. But she has been a most baleful influence in
this house for many years, and I want to get rid of her at once. I'll
try and find you another housekeeper to take her place."
But Lady Violet assured him this would not be necessary.
"It's kind of you to wish us to stay out our time, but I shall be very
glad to get back to town sooner. We will stay till the end of the
month, then you can take possession. I really must congratulate you,
Mr. Muir, for I know how you have loved the place. We have heard a good
deal of the village talk, and it seems right and proper that you should
come here."
Jock gave a funny little bow. He admired Lady Violet's quick change of
front. A few days ago she was alluding to him in terms of disparagement
as "that penniless young farmer."
Reyne looked at him with a friendly smile.
"I always felt you belonged here," she said. "But I can't understand
why you have been in hiding, as it were, all this time."
"I was going to wait till Mrs. Calthrop came back from her trip
abroad," said Jock, a little hesitatingly. "I wasn't in a hurry.
Besides, I wanted to give Preston a help with his place. I enjoy
farming—the practical part of it—and every year you're at it, you gain
experience!"
Then he made off, for he feared more questions, and he would not for
all the world have told anyone his real reason for remaining incognito.
He visited the farm in the afternoon, and there made a clean breast to
the Prestons, who were much amazed, and not a little perplexed, at his
news.
"Don't ask me why I've done it," he besought them. "It was a sudden
freak or fancy, and for many reasons I should like to have slipped
along as I was. But this fire and Mrs. Calthrop's return have hurried
things on a bit. It was no good her uselessly distressing herself over
the loss of her son's library, when it was in reality mine."
Then he went off to Orris. He found her under her favourite apple tree
in the orchard. She was reading, and for a wonder Pippa was away, out
for a walk with the village girl.
"Oh," he groaned, throwing himself down on the grass at her feet, "I'm
having such a time confessing! I can't stand the queries as to why I
haven't taken possession of my house before."
"Well, we all think it very foolish of you," said Orris.
"You know why I did it," he retorted, looking at her reproachfully.
"How are you feeling, Orris?"
"Very much better, thank you, Jock," she said, laughing. "If you will
use my name, I will use yours. After all, we know each other well
enough by this time to do so."
"Say my name again, do," entreated Jock. "You have put new life into me
by doing it."
She shook her head at him. Then she said:
"We have had rather a trying visit this afternoon. About two o'clock,
the inspector of the police from Spenbury called. I was put through a
searching cross-examination, and in the end I had to send for Pippa.
She was very funny, as you can imagine she would be. First, she was
rather frightened, then excited. She was asked to give an exact account
of herself when she was left alone in the library.
"'Teddy Bear wanted to smoke a cigarette,' she said, 'so o' course I
had to make one for him like mummy does sometimes. And then he wanted
me to light it for him, and I tried, but it wouldn't burn. And then
Aunt Ollie came along, and I threw the matchbox in the paper basket and
came away, and I 'sure you there wasn't one tiny bit of fire there! I
never left any fire at all!' She repeated this with much emphasis.
"I said to the inspector that there was no conclusive evidence that
she was the culprit. And he agreed with me, but it was a probable
explanation of the origin of the fire. He began talking about it to me,
and then Pippa stepped up to him with big eyes and, putting her hand on
his knee, said in an awed whisper:
"'If you don't know for certain, why don't you ask God to tell you?
He's the only Person who truly knows who did it.'
"The inspector smiled. 'I could ask, missy,' he said; 'that part would
be easy, but the difficulty would be to get the answer.'
"'Oh, I get lots of answers from God, I feel them inside me,' she said;
'and God knows quite well that I wouldn't have burnt up a house. I
couldn't do it if I tried.'
"I sent her out of the room. She is so assured that she did not do it,
that it does not trouble her. But I feel utterly crushed."
"There is nothing for you to feel crushed about. I'm sorry that the
inspector has bothered you. I meant to have got his ear first. He has
lost no time about it."
"Have you broken the news to Mrs. Calthrop? Tell me about it."
He told her.
"I feel I must see her," Orris said. "After all, she got me this job; I
am in her employ."
"Yes, but she won't like to see you. She's feeling sore and hurt all
round, and will get away from here as quickly as she can. Let her write
to you—she's sure to do that."
Orris looked doubtful.
"I will wait, if you think it wiser. When are you going to take
possession?"
"I'm not in a hurry. I've a lot of business to tackle, and the Home
Farm is my next affair. The man who is in charge of it is a rotter.
He'll have to go, and I shall take it over myself."
Orris looked at him meditatively.
"Through me and mine you have lost the most valuable part of your
property," she said. "I don't think I shall ever lift up my head again."
"I am not going to encourage you to bemoan past events," said Jock.
"You and I are going to begin a fresh chapter together, very soon. I
won't hurry you. I must tell you that the Elf is going to pay another
visit to the powder-room with me. Lady Violet has given me 'carte
blanche' to come and go as I please, and there is something I want to
give her out of the attic."
"You are very good to her."
Orris spoke slowly, as if weighing her words. For a moment she felt
inclined to confide in him her intentions ahead; then she judged
silence would be most prudent. And after some further talk, he took his
leave.
On the following Sunday, Pippa got her wish and went off to the
powder-room with him. And a few days later, she was shown the old
dolls' house in the attic. Jock promised to have it done up for her,
and she was in a state of wild delight about it.
Then, towards the end of the week, Jock came up to the farm again.
He had been very busy, had been up to town once or twice to see his
lawyer, and had been making many necessary changes on his small
property.
The village and neighbourhood heard of the news with much exhilaration.
They all wanted Jock to be owner of Pinestones. Now, as he strode
across the fields to Lilac Farm, his heart was filled with hope. Surely
Orris would listen to his suit! Surely she would not hold out much
longer! She was so downcast, so gentle and diffident now! It would be
easier to persuade her, to bend her to his will. He felt that he had
the power within himself to make her happy. And no one else in the wide
world could love her as much, or give her such wholesale worship and
adoration! So he reasoned with himself.
His step was blithe and gay as he opened the porch door. Mrs. Preston
had seen his approach and came to welcome him, but he was struck by her
tired dispirited look.
"Well, Mrs. Preston, I've come to see Miss Coventry. I haven't seen
her for these last three days, I've been so awfully busy. I hope she's
nearly well by this time."
Mrs. Preston looked at him with miserable eyes.
"She's gone away. She went yesterday."
"Gone away!" Jock looked dumbfounded. "Where to?"
"That I don't know. She wouldn't tell me. I am afraid she thought I
would tell you."
"But she hasn't gone away from me?" Jock's tone was short, sharp and
bitter.
"She's left a note to be given to you when you called."
Jock seized it, saying somewhat impatiently: "Why didn't you let me
have it yesterday? I suppose she has gone back to town?"
"I don't think she has. But perhaps the letter will tell you," said
Mrs. Preston. "I'm sure it's a blow to me. I loved having them here.
Miss Coventry has cheered me as I've never been cheered before, and as
to little Pippa, she's the darling of my heart. I dote upon her, and so
does Tom."
Jock strode off with his note to the old orchard, then, leaning his
back against Orris's apple tree, he read, with rather angry eyes, the
following letter:
"DEAR JOCK,
"This is going to be a difficult letter, for I fear you will
misunderstand me and be hurt. You have been so good, so kind, so
forgiving through this time of trouble, that I cannot bear to distress
you. But I must get away. And I don't want to be followed or to be
written to. They say time heals wounds. Time and absolute quiet may
heal mine. At present, I feel I want no sympathy, no friends, above
all, no environment that will open up the past. It is cowardly on my
part, but I want to be free of it all, to be able to take stock of
myself, as it were, under fresh and strange conditions. I hope I am
not morbid. I must face life again, and take up some work for the
sake of my darling Pippa, but for the present I am going to rest—my
brain, my body, my soul. So don't on any account worry over me, don't
try to discover where I am, don't write to me. If you really care for
me, do none of these things. Our part in the late destruction of your
property will keep people's tongues wagging busily for some time yet. I
am perhaps not altogether making this move on my own account, but the
position is bad for Pippa, who is being made the centre of comment and
attraction. I want her to forget her part in the tragedy. We shall be
quite well and comfortable. Do not give us a thought, but take care of
yourself and be happy.
"Yours always sincerely,
"ORRIS COVENTRY."
Jock read this through and through, snapping his lips together like
steel, as he did when he was much moved. The blow had fallen heavily.
He had not been prepared for it. He had not thought it possible that
Orris would take herself out of his life so suddenly.
"It's a cruel letter," was his first thought; and then he relented.
"Poor little soul! She has gone to hide her wounds, and thinks that she
can hide from me! She's more like a child now than I ever thought she
could be. Hide from me! It's quite an absurd impossibility!"