task of putting the car away and collecting Evelyn’s belongings from the front doorstep. So many times she had come back to Denham like this—from school in the long vacations; from holidays abroad with her father; from nearby dances and point-to-points, and Denham had always been the same, waiting and welcoming. She couldn’t bear to think about leaving it all behind her. Not just yet.
Evelyn went from room to room, touching this and that, remembering, too. She seemed to have forgotten their conversation on the way from Edinburgh, or had managed to dismiss it from her mind for the time being while she relived the happier past, and Susan had no immediate desire to renew it.
Almost before they had finished the simple meal Nellie had prepared for them, the telephone began to ring and Evelyn was once more in universal demand. People had heard of her return and were eager to drop in to welcome her home. Denham House had come to life again.
CHAPTER THREE
FOR the best part of two weeks Evelyn held court in the sunny drawing-room or out on the terrace when the weather was warm enough. A seemingly endless procession of friends and acquaintances flocked over the stone bridge and up the winding drive to tell her how happy they were about the stupendous news. There really might be another Adam Denham, after all!
Evelyn took everything in her stride, happily contented to be home, it seemed, and not worrying too much about the future. But the future was first and foremost in Susan’s mind. She went to the mill each day, since there were no private showings to be arranged at the house, and while she was busily employed she was almost able to forget about the doom which hung darkly over them.
Everything seemed the same. No further communication was forthcoming from Elliott’s, apparently, and she wondered, half hopefully, if they had changed their minds.
The image of Maxwell Elliott as a ruthless business man began to fade. He hadn’t even considered it worth his while to accept Evelyn’s pressing invitation to come to Denham House, so perhaps he was having second thoughts about the take-over bid. The odd thing was that she didn’t see him around, even on her travels. She might have expected to see him riding across the moor or in Hawick again, with the girl in the blue tweeds.
And what of Hope’s Star? When she thought about the mare she worried about it not being exercised enough, although she was forced to acknowledge that it was now no affair of hers. Hope’s Star had gone to the Carse, possibly to be given to the girl who had been Maxwell Elliott’s companion and was probably his fiancée or even his wife.
They knew so little about him, really, and she shrank from asking Evelyn if there was any further news from London.
When the letter came from the firm of solicitors in Edinburgh it was addressed to her stepmother, and Susan stood by while Evelyn opened it. They were in her father’s study, which was still the business room, and her stepmother sighed as she tossed the typewritten communication across the desk.
“It had to come one of these days, I suppose,” she said. “It’s all there, Sue, if you care to look at it before you go down to the mill.”
Susan, who had never taken any part in the administration side of Denham’s, read the letter with a growing sense of confusion. She ran through it twice before she looked up.
“I suppose it’s clear enough,” she said, “and you do mean to sell out to Elliott’s.”
Evelyn flushed, but she could be determined as well as kind.
“It isn’t a ‘sell-out’, as you put it, Sue. We’ll have adequate shares in the new company with our holdings in Denham’s. Surely you understand that?” she said.
Susan nodded, quite unable to reply for a moment.
“What I can’t understand is the bit about the house,” she said, at last. “They can’t possibly want this, too.”
Evelyn got up to stand beside one of the long windows overlooking the
Evelyn went from room to room, touching this and that, remembering, too. She seemed to have forgotten their conversation on the way from Edinburgh, or had managed to dismiss it from her mind for the time being while she relived the happier past, and Susan had no immediate desire to renew it.
Almost before they had finished the simple meal Nellie had prepared for them, the telephone began to ring and Evelyn was once more in universal demand. People had heard of her return and were eager to drop in to welcome her home. Denham House had come to life again.
CHAPTER THREE
FOR the best part of two weeks Evelyn held court in the sunny drawing-room or out on the terrace when the weather was warm enough. A seemingly endless procession of friends and acquaintances flocked over the stone bridge and up the winding drive to tell her how happy they were about the stupendous news. There really might be another Adam Denham, after all!
Evelyn took everything in her stride, happily contented to be home, it seemed, and not worrying too much about the future. But the future was first and foremost in Susan’s mind. She went to the mill each day, since there were no private showings to be arranged at the house, and while she was busily employed she was almost able to forget about the doom which hung darkly over them.
Everything seemed the same. No further communication was forthcoming from Elliott’s, apparently, and she wondered, half hopefully, if they had changed their minds.
The image of Maxwell Elliott as a ruthless business man began to fade. He hadn’t even considered it worth his while to accept Evelyn’s pressing invitation to come to Denham House, so perhaps he was having second thoughts about the take-over bid. The odd thing was that she didn’t see him around, even on her travels. She might have expected to see him riding across the moor or in Hawick again, with the girl in the blue tweeds.
And what of Hope’s Star? When she thought about the mare she worried about it not being exercised enough, although she was forced to acknowledge that it was now no affair of hers. Hope’s Star had gone to the Carse, possibly to be given to the girl who had been Maxwell Elliott’s companion and was probably his fiancée or even his wife.
They knew so little about him, really, and she shrank from asking Evelyn if there was any further news from London.
When the letter came from the firm of solicitors in Edinburgh it was addressed to her stepmother, and Susan stood by while Evelyn opened it. They were in her father’s study, which was still the business room, and her stepmother sighed as she tossed the typewritten communication across the desk.
“It had to come one of these days, I suppose,” she said. “It’s all there, Sue, if you care to look at it before you go down to the mill.”
Susan, who had never taken any part in the administration side of Denham’s, read the letter with a growing sense of confusion. She ran through it twice before she looked up.
“I suppose it’s clear enough,” she said, “and you do mean to sell out to Elliott’s.”
Evelyn flushed, but she could be determined as well as kind.
“It isn’t a ‘sell-out’, as you put it, Sue. We’ll have adequate shares in the new company with our holdings in Denham’s. Surely you understand that?” she said.
Susan nodded, quite unable to reply for a moment.
“What I can’t understand is the bit about the house,” she said, at last. “They can’t possibly want this, too.”
Evelyn got up to stand beside one of the long windows overlooking the
Similar Books
