The Alington Inheritance Read Online Free PDF

woman’s clutches. I hear she’s a terror.”
    It was the old trick. When she was with him she forgot everything she had been thinking about him. He had only to smile, to say two words in his sympathetic voice, and she stopped thinking. And that wasn’t right. That was just glamour. Like the fairy stories. Life wasn’t a fairy story, it was real—not fairy gold which had turned into withered leaves when you took it out and looked at it next day. And these thoughts were together in Jenny’s mind. They made a strange confusion there. And then, before she knew what she was going to say, she spoke. She heard herself speaking.
    “Why didn’t you come down in time for the funeral?”
    She saw the flash in his eyes which meant that she had made him angry. He stood there a couple of steps above her and looked down at her. There was an antagonism between them. For the moment it was stronger than the attraction which had always been there and was sometimes very strong.
    He gave a little laugh.
    “My dear Jenny! Not really in my line, you know—not funerals! But I’ll come and dance at your wedding if you ask me.”
    “I shan’t ask you,” said Jenny. The confusion in her had melted into a steady flame of rage. She looked up at him with a burning look, and then passed him by and was gone.
    Mac was rather taken aback. Jenny had always been easy. Too easy really for his taste. This change lent interest to her. So he wasn’t going to have it all his own way? Well, so much the better.
    Jenny went on to the top of the stairs, where Meg was waiting for her.
    “Were you quarrelling?” she asked. “You sounded as if you were.”
    Jenny laughed. It was an angry little laugh. She felt angry. She looked angry. She also looked astonishingly pretty, but she didn’t know that. She tidied her hair, washed her hands, and put the little chest of drawers down on the middle of her big one where she could see it from her bed. Meg was very much interested.
    “Oh, what a darling little chest of drawers! Is it yours? May I look at it? Is there anything in it?”
    “There are the things I made for Garsty for her birthday and for Christmas when I was a little girl. I’ll show you some time. Not now.”
    “It’s a baby chest of drawers! It’s got a bow front, and it’s got darling little ivory handles too! Oh, I do love it! Don’t you?”
    Jenny said, “Yes.” It was just the one word, but there was something in it that stopped Meg’s chatter.
    They took hands and went down to the schoolroom, where Joyce was curled up in the sofa corner with a picture book and Alan sat strumming at the piano. He wasn’t as tall as his brother, and he certainly wasn’t as good-looking. He was, in point of fact, very much like his father. Jenny was struck with the resemblance as he swung round to meet her.
    He said, “Jenny—” in a moved tone, and then, “I was so s-sorry—I really was.”
    She said, “Thank you,” in a little voice. There was a warm feeling at her heart—there always was for Alan.
    And then Meg broke in with “She’s got the darlingest little chest of drawers from Garsty! She brought it home with her just now! It’s all round in front, and it’s got the dearest little ivory handles on it!”
    Joyce scrambled down off the sofa. ,
    “I want to see it! I want to look! Where is it?”
    “It’s in her room on the chest of drawers!” Meg called back to Jenny, “I won’t let her touch it till you say we may,” and was gone.
    “I’m so s-sorry, Jenny,” said Alan. He only stammered when he was upset, so she knew that he really meant it.
    Jenny said, “I know. But it’s no good talking about it, Alan—it’s happened.” And then the door opened and Carter came in with the tea.
    “What are you doing here, Mr. Alan?” she said, putting down the tray.
    “I’m going to have tea with the children.”
    “Oh, no, you don’t. You will have tea in the drawing-room with Mrs. Forbes and Mr. Mac. This is schoolroom tea