Jalna: Books 1-4: The Building of Jalna / Morning at Jalna / Mary Wakefield / Young Renny by Mazo de la Roche Read Free Book Online

beguilingly.
    “What a sweet box!” she said.
    Well, she was his loveliest granddaughter and she was going far away. He put the snuffbox in her hand.
    “Take it,” he said, “and when an Indian chief offers you the pipe of peace you can give him a pinch of snuff in exchange.”
    No one could have been more charming and self-forgetful than Adeline during the rest of the visit. But there was tension between her and Bridget. They were quite ready to part when the last morning came. The wagonette waited at the door for Adeline’s trunks, for she went nowhere without a quantity of luggage. She stood in the hall, tall and slender, in a dark green riding habit, her hair plaited neatly beneath the small hat from which a dark feather drooped against the creamy whiteness of her cheek. Her red lips were parted in a blandishing smile.
    “Ah, the beautiful visit I’ve had!” she cried, embracing Bridget. “Ah, thank you, dear cousin, for all you’ve done! When Philip and I are settled in our new home you and Corry must come and spend a year with us, for indeed ’t would take a year to repay you for all you’ve done for us!”
    Bridget was shorter than Adeline. Her eyes could barely look over the top of Adeline’s shoulder as they embraced. Her eyes, protruding a little because of the fervent embrace she was receiving, stared at the paneling on which a vacant space by degrees claimed her attention. Her eyes widened still more as her brain took in the fact that the childish portrait of Adeline was missing from the wall. It seemed too bad to be true! With a cry that was almost a scream, Bridget struggled in that strong embrace. Adeline held her close. In fact, feeling the tempest that was surging through Bridget, Adeline held her closer.
    “Let me go,” screamed Bridget in a fury. “Let me go!”
    The men stared at the two in consternation. With Bridget’s great crinoline vibrating about them, their bosoms pressed together, their arms clutching each other, they were a troubling sight.
    “What in God’s name is the matter?” demanded Renny Court.
    “He has given her the picture!” cried Bridget.
    “What picture?”
    “The portrait of Adeline! Corry has given it to her. It’s gone!”
    Everyone now looked at the wall. Corrigan turned pale. “I have done no such thing,” he declared. “If it’s gone, she took it.”
    Adeline was driven to release Bridget, who now faced her in fierce accusation.
    “You have taken it,” she said. “It is in one of your boxes. Peter!” she called out to a manservant. “Unload the boxes from the wagonette.”
    “Let them be,” said Adeline. She turned calmly on her cousins. “I did not take the picture,” she said, “but I only took what was my own, so let’s have no more fuss about it.”
    Peter stood, holding a trunk in his arms, not knowing whether to put it down or put it up. His sandy side-whiskers bristled in excitement.
    “Now, look here,” said Philip, “I’m willing to buy the picture if Adeline wants it so badly.”
    “And I’m willing to sell,” said Corrigan.
    “But I am not!” cried the wife. “I demand to have those boxes unpacked and the picture back on the wall!” She ran down the steps and took one end of the trunk which Peter was still holding, and tugged at the strap that bound it.
    Adeline flew after her. They struggled over the trunk. Adeline was the stronger but Bridget was in an abandon of rage. She stretched out her hand and, taking hold of one of Adeline’s smooth plaits, pulled it loose.
    “Now, now, don’t do that!” exclaimed Philip, in his turn running down the steps. “I won’t have it.” Never in his life had he been involved in such a scene as this. He caught Bridget’s wrist and held it a while, with the other hand, he tried to make Adeline let go of the trunk.
    Renny Court looked on, laughing.
    “Kindly restrain your wife,” said Philip to Corrigan.
    “Don’t you lay a finger on me, Corry Court!” cried Bridget. He