river.
“The fact that you’ve been working and showing here had something to do with it,” she explained. “They felt that the business should be kept intact, every facet of it, and you must admit that we were doing rather well, showing to the trade out here. The atmosphere of a Scottish country house added something, Sue. Make no mistake about that. It was one idea that paid off in a big way. Your idea.”
“Don’t try to placate me,” Susan interrupted harshly. “This is our home. I’ve loved it all my life, but perhaps you can’t understand such a stupid sentiment—”
“Sue, I can, only too well.” Evelyn came to put a gentle hand on her arm. “But the truth is that we can’t afford to keep Denham. Not as a private house, anyway. Its upkeep is enormous, and it’s far too big for our needs, without a man about the place, I suppose I mean.” A swift stab of jealousy pierced through Susan. What did Evelyn mean? Was she already planning to marry again, even quite soon after the baby was born?
“Perhaps you don’t think you owe anything to Denham,” she challenged.
“Sue, you’re so wrong!” Small, intense, lovely, Evelyn stood with her hands clasped before her in an attitude of entreaty which she could not fail to recognise. “I love this house, but what can we do about it? The money we get for the mill will all be invested in the new venture. It will be a simple transfer of shares. We have very little hard cash. Isn’t it far better that Denham House should go with the mill than pass out of our orbit altogether?” Susan stared at her incredulously.
“You don’t mind about someone else being here—utter strangers?” she asked.
“Not if they can keep Denham as it should be kept,” said Adam’s wife, “and I have their promise that the baby can be born here.”
“When?” Susan demanded in utter surprise.
“I’ve seen Maxwell Elliott out and about. In fact,” Evelyn confessed, “I’ve been to the Carse.”
Oh, treacherous Evelyn! Susan felt her throat contract, as if all the breath had been squeezed out of her.
“I didn’t know,” she managed, at last. “You should have told me.”
Anger had died in her, giving way to despair. This was it. The end of argument and pleading had come, and Evelyn meant to agree to the take-over. The contract was almost sealed, signed and delivered.
“You know I can’t object,” she said. “Not when you want this thing so much. You seem to know these people now, better than I do.”
“I haven’t met the elder brother yet,” Evelyn confessed. “He’s coming over towards the end of the month and Max would like everything fixed up by then, if it’s at all possible.”
Max! Susan thought. It had gone as far as that.
“This older brother,” she asked, deliberately ignoring the reference to Maxwell Elliott. “He’s obviously putting up most of the money.”
“His fair share of it,” Evelyn agreed. “They’ve been in sheep for a long while in New Zealand, but he’s in the wool brokerage business now. Quite a man, from what I can gather. A real tycoon!”
She was happy with their bargain. Susan could see that, and now it only remained for them to sign away Denham House and the deal would be complete. She stumbled towards the door.
“He’s doing everything to the letter of the Law, isn’t he?” she observed. “Not coming near while the transfer goes through, but I bet he’ll be on the doorstep just as soon as we’ve signed on the dotted line. The take-over will be complete,” she added bitterly, “and Maxwell Elliott will be the man in possession.”
Before Evelyn could answer, she had gathered up her handbag and gloves and made for the door. She would be late getting to the mill and the thought irked her more than usual. Nellie was on the point of opening the front door.
“I won’t be back for lunch, Nell,” she told her as the door swung wide. “I haven’t time—”
The remainder of her sentence hung in
“The fact that you’ve been working and showing here had something to do with it,” she explained. “They felt that the business should be kept intact, every facet of it, and you must admit that we were doing rather well, showing to the trade out here. The atmosphere of a Scottish country house added something, Sue. Make no mistake about that. It was one idea that paid off in a big way. Your idea.”
“Don’t try to placate me,” Susan interrupted harshly. “This is our home. I’ve loved it all my life, but perhaps you can’t understand such a stupid sentiment—”
“Sue, I can, only too well.” Evelyn came to put a gentle hand on her arm. “But the truth is that we can’t afford to keep Denham. Not as a private house, anyway. Its upkeep is enormous, and it’s far too big for our needs, without a man about the place, I suppose I mean.” A swift stab of jealousy pierced through Susan. What did Evelyn mean? Was she already planning to marry again, even quite soon after the baby was born?
“Perhaps you don’t think you owe anything to Denham,” she challenged.
“Sue, you’re so wrong!” Small, intense, lovely, Evelyn stood with her hands clasped before her in an attitude of entreaty which she could not fail to recognise. “I love this house, but what can we do about it? The money we get for the mill will all be invested in the new venture. It will be a simple transfer of shares. We have very little hard cash. Isn’t it far better that Denham House should go with the mill than pass out of our orbit altogether?” Susan stared at her incredulously.
“You don’t mind about someone else being here—utter strangers?” she asked.
“Not if they can keep Denham as it should be kept,” said Adam’s wife, “and I have their promise that the baby can be born here.”
“When?” Susan demanded in utter surprise.
“I’ve seen Maxwell Elliott out and about. In fact,” Evelyn confessed, “I’ve been to the Carse.”
Oh, treacherous Evelyn! Susan felt her throat contract, as if all the breath had been squeezed out of her.
“I didn’t know,” she managed, at last. “You should have told me.”
Anger had died in her, giving way to despair. This was it. The end of argument and pleading had come, and Evelyn meant to agree to the take-over. The contract was almost sealed, signed and delivered.
“You know I can’t object,” she said. “Not when you want this thing so much. You seem to know these people now, better than I do.”
“I haven’t met the elder brother yet,” Evelyn confessed. “He’s coming over towards the end of the month and Max would like everything fixed up by then, if it’s at all possible.”
Max! Susan thought. It had gone as far as that.
“This older brother,” she asked, deliberately ignoring the reference to Maxwell Elliott. “He’s obviously putting up most of the money.”
“His fair share of it,” Evelyn agreed. “They’ve been in sheep for a long while in New Zealand, but he’s in the wool brokerage business now. Quite a man, from what I can gather. A real tycoon!”
She was happy with their bargain. Susan could see that, and now it only remained for them to sign away Denham House and the deal would be complete. She stumbled towards the door.
“He’s doing everything to the letter of the Law, isn’t he?” she observed. “Not coming near while the transfer goes through, but I bet he’ll be on the doorstep just as soon as we’ve signed on the dotted line. The take-over will be complete,” she added bitterly, “and Maxwell Elliott will be the man in possession.”
Before Evelyn could answer, she had gathered up her handbag and gloves and made for the door. She would be late getting to the mill and the thought irked her more than usual. Nellie was on the point of opening the front door.
“I won’t be back for lunch, Nell,” she told her as the door swung wide. “I haven’t time—”
The remainder of her sentence hung in
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