I WAS STAYING FOR a few days in London, as I did now and then. On this occasion I had come to town to make some arrangements about patients who would shortly be sent to Marchlands from one of the big hospitals. I also had some purchases to make.
It was pleasant to be with my father, who would return with me to Marchlands at the weekend. He was very preoccupied at this time. I knew that he had a great deal on his mind, and I think he enjoyed dining quietly with me alone. In some respects he was more hopeful about the war. He told me that the first contingent of Americans was expected in June.
“This will have a demoralizing effect on the enemy,” he said. “And we can do with their help, of course.”
“Do you think the end is in sight?”
“Well, perhaps not exactly in sight. Round the corner maybe. There’s one thing that makes me uneasy.”
He sat biting his lips while I waited for him to go on.
Then he looked at me steadily and said, “There’s something wrong somewhere. Secrets…top secrets…are being betrayed.”
“How?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “There are bound to be spies around. Even in peacetime they are here, and in wartime…although it is more difficult for them to operate, their efforts are intensified. But lately…You remember the affair at Milton Priory?”
“You never found out how that came about?”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I was deeply involved in that. I felt responsible. I am sure someone had been at my papers. It’s unsettling. Well, we can only be watchful. But some of these people are devilishly clever.”
“Perhaps it will all be over soon. Won’t that be wonderful?”
He agreed that it would.
It was the next day when Tom Green, one of the men from the stables at Marchlands, arrived at the house.
I was astonished to see him and thought for a moment that something must be very wrong.
I must have betrayed my anxiety for he said quickly, “All’s well at Marchlands, Miss Lucinda. It’s just that a woman came. She seemed to be most upset-like…and wanted to give a letter to you….And, as I had to come up to London on an errand for Mrs. Greenham…to the hospital here…I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes.”
“A woman?”
“Yes, miss. Really upset she was…in quite a state. She asked for you. She didn’t want to see anyone else. She was real distressed when I told her you were away.”
“Did she give her name?”
“No, miss. All she said was she wanted to see Miss Lucinda Greenham, and when I said I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, she said she would write a note to you. So I settled her down with pen and paper and she wrote and I gave her an envelope and she said to put this with a letter she’d brought and she said would I give it to you the moment you came back. I said I would. I was right-down sorry for her. So I took the opportunity-like…”
“Give me the letters.”
He felt in his pocket and produced them. My name was written on one. It said Private. Urgent.
I did not want to open it under the groom’s curious eyes, so I said, “Thanks. I’ll see what this is all about.”
I went up to my room.
The other envelope was rather bulky and it was addressed to Major Merrivale.
I slit the envelope addressed to me. I took out the note. At the top of it was the address 23 Adelaide Villas, Maida Vale, London.
Dear Miss Greenham,
I don’t know whether I’m right in this, but it is something I must do.
Would you please give this letter to Major Merrivale? I don’t know whether I should write to him in this way, but as he is in your hospital and he should know what’s happening, I had to. I thought you looked like a kind young lady, and perhaps I could explain to you. But as you are away, I don’t want to trust it with anyone else.
I saw your picture in the paper with the gentleman who won the medal and there was a bit about the hospital. I just thought you looked like the sort who would understand and help me.
Would you give this letter to Major Merrivale as soon as you can? I hope it won’t be too late. It is very important to someone.
Yours truly,
Miss Emma Johns
I sat for a moment reading the letter and wondering what it could mean. Hadn’t the stableman told her that Major Merrivale was no longer at the hospital? Of course not. She had not mentioned his name. She had just asked for me. It was clear that she did not want to tell anyone else to get a message to him. It must be something very important as she would only entrust it with me…because I had a kind face!
It was very mysterious.
Obviously I should get the letter to Major Merrivale without delay. But I did not know where he was. I had heard that he had a small pied-à-terre in London, but where, I did not know. Nor had I ever heard the address of his home in the country.
Annabelinda could help me. But would it be wise to give her the letter? I detected some urgent plea in the note addressed to me that I alone should deliver the envelope.
I was not sure what to do.
I read the note again. 23 Adelaide Villas, Maida Vale. As I was in London, I could go there. I could explain to Miss Emma Johns that the major was no longer at the hospital and that I did not know how to reach him, unless she would wish me to pass on the letter to his fiancée.
The more I thought of it, the more I liked the idea, for I must confess that I was very curious to know what this was all about.
So that very morning I took a cab to Maida Vale.
Adelaide Villas was a pleasant crescent of small houses, all alike and not without charm. I knocked at number 23. The door was opened by a woman of about thirty and I guessed at once that she was Miss Emma Johns.
“Miss Emma Johns?” I said.
She nodded, staring at me, and I saw recognition dawn in her eyes. The picture that had been taken of me with Robert must have been a good likeness.
I went on. “I’m Lucinda Greenham.”
“Oh…please come in.”
I stepped into a small hall. She opened a door and I was in what was obviously a sitting room—neat, tidy and well cared for.
She told me to sit down, and I said at once, “I came because I was unsure what to do. The fact is, Major Merrivale is no longer at Marchlands Hospital.”
“Oh,” she said blankly.
“I thought the best thing to do was to come and see you, as I happened to be in London. I was not quite sure how to act. There seemed a certain amount of secrecy.”
She was clasping and unclasping her hands.
“It’s an awkward situation,” she said at length. “I wouldn’t have dreamed of writing to the major but for Janet being so ill. She’s not got long, you see.”
“Janet?”
“She’s my sister. I look after her and the children.”
“And…er…you wanted…?”
She was silent again, frowning.
“You’ve been so good to come,” she went on. “That was kind. I knew you’d be kind. And I thought if I could get to see you and talk to you…it would be all right. You could have given him the letter and no one else know…if you see what I mean.”
“Up to a point,” I replied. “But I think if I knew what this was all about, I might be able to help more.”
“Well, you see, I have always been with them. Janet…she’s a bit younger than me…eight years. She was always so pretty. I’d looked after her since our mother died…soon after Janet was born, in fact. She’s always been like my baby. I don’t rightly know…”
“Is it something you’d rather not tell me?”
“I’m that uncertain. I really want her to see him before she goes.”
“Goes?”
“She hasn’t got long to live. It’s her chest. I knew it was coming. She’s had this weakness for some years, and there are the little ones. Oh, I know they’ll be all right. But it’s just that she wants to see him before she goes-like.”
“I’ll do what I can to help. I don’t know where the major is living, but I can find out. But as there was all this secrecy I wondered how to act and whether I ought to see you first.”
“I don’t know. The young lady he is going to marry…you see, I don’t know whether it would be right. I don’t want to upset the major. He’s been so good. It would finish Janet off if she thought she’d made trouble for him. She loves him, you see. Otherwise it would never have been. And he’s always been so good to us all.”
“I am just wondering how I can help. If you told me…”
She hesitated and then seemed to come to a decision.
“Well,” she said. “There was never any deceiving or that sort of thing. Janet went as parlormaid in some grand house in the country. He was a guest. He saw her and that was that. He made it quite clear in the beginning, and Janet, who knew how these things worked out, understood right away. It was her decision, and she’s never regretted it. He bought this place for her, and when Martin came along, I moved in with her. It suited us all. And then there was Eva. It was a happy little family. We had some good times. And there was never any trouble about how we were to live. There was always the money coming, regular as clockwork. Oh, he was good to us. Special presents and all that sort of thing. Janet was a very happy woman. She’d always known there couldn’t be a marriage and she got along very well without it.”
“I understand,” I said.
“The last thing Janet would want would be to make trouble for him when he’s been so good to her. But you see, she hasn’t got long and if he knew, he’d want to see her as much as she wants to see him. She knows the children will be all right…but she wants to make sure.”
“Yes, of course.”
“And if anyone got to know…if it came out, I mean…she’d never forgive me for bringing it out like this. There was that bit in the paper about him being engaged…so I thought…well, I had to do something.”
“An idea has just struck me,” I said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. My uncle is in the same regiment. It is very likely that he would know the major’s address in London. He is in London just now, briefly, but I could get in touch with him. And if you would like me to deliver the letter to the major, I would do so.”
“Oh, yes…yes, I’d trust you.”
“Then that is what I will do.”
“Thank you. Poor Janet. She doesn’t complain, but it is her dearest wish to see him. She just wants to thank him for all the happiness he has given her, and tell him she doesn’t regret it. She wants to make sure for the children, too. I have an idea that, now he will soon be married, he doesn’t regret anything from the past any more than she does….”
The door opened and a boy looked in. He must have been about eight or nine years old.
“It’s all right, Martin,” said Miss Emma Johns. “Where’s Eva?”
A very pretty little girl put her head around the door.
“Well, both of you, run along. There’s good children. I’ll be with you soon.”
They both eyed me with a certain curiosity, as I did them. I fancied there was a look of Marcus about them.
The door shut behind them and I rose to go.
I said, “If I am successful in getting the address from my uncle, I will take the letter and let you know I have done so. But I expect the major will come to see you then.”
“It is a long time since we have seen him. Since the war started, he has been away fighting and then in the hospital. There was no holding up of the money. That’s paid into a bank. There is some solicitor doing it. I’ve never seen any letters from them. It was all arranged like that. I didn’t know which way to turn. You’ve been a great help, Miss Greenham.”
“Well, if I couldn’t get in touch with my uncle, I could ask the…the fiancée. But perhaps you wouldn’t want that?”
“Oh, no, Miss Greenham. I wouldn’t want it to get to her ears. You never know…you understand?”
I did understand perfectly. “Well, I will let you know what happens,” I said. “And if I can get the address, I will deliver the letter personally into the hands of Major Merrivale.”
I left her then and made my way home.
I thought it was an ironical twist of fate that both the prospective bride and groom should have children whose identity must remain secret from the other.
I went immediately to Uncle Gerald’s London house. As I had expected, he was not at home, but Aunt Hester was very helpful.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I can give you Marcus’s address. He won’t be in the country just now. He’ll be in London. He’s taken a house temporarily but I believe he often goes to the country for weekends…when he can get away. Or he might go to the Denvers’. There is all this preparation for the wedding. I think they are all very pleased about it, and it will be good to see Annabelinda settled. Let me get the address for you.”
Aunt Hester was a very practical woman without much imagination, and such people can be very useful at times. She did not ask any awkward questions as some might have done, and very soon I was on my way to Marcus’s London address.
I could not hope that I should find him there and I did not, so I left a note asking him to get in touch with me immediately and tell me when I could see him, as I had something for him that I believed was urgent.
It was about five in the afternoon when he called at the house. My father was not at home, so I could see him without any questions being asked.
I received him in the drawing room and I could not suppress a certain exhilaration as he came into the room. He looked even more handsome than I remembered, and his slight limp did not make him less attractive. He looked at me as though I were the one person in the world whom he most wanted to see.
“Lucinda!” he said. “What a pleasure to see you! I can’t tell you how delighted I was to receive your note.”
“I’m so glad you came. I’ve been rather anxious about this.”
He looked gravely concerned and I told him what had happened. I was amazed how calmly he received the information.
“And this is the letter I have for you.”
He took it, glanced at it and put it into his pocket.
“I believe it is very urgent,” I said. “Miss Emma Johns was rather upset.”
“I understand,” he said. “I will deal with it at once.”
“Then I had better not keep you.”
He looked distressed and I reminded myself that this did not mean he wanted to be with me so much. It was all playacting. I should never allow myself to be so deceived again.
“And how are you, Lucinda?” he said.
“Well, thank you, and I see you have recovered your health.”
“Yes, but they won’t let me go out again. I’m stuck here in London.”
“There are many, I daresay, who are pleased about that.”
“Does that include you, Lucinda?”
“Naturally, one likes to think one’s friends are in comparative safety.”
“And I hear you have Robert Denver with you.”
“Yes. He has a leg wound, too.”
“Which you are hoping will keep him in comparative safety?”
“Of course.”
“He’s a noble hero, isn’t he?”
“He is very brave and I am glad that his bravery has been recognized.”
“It is always good when people get their desserts.” He grimaced slightly, and I could not help smiling.
“I think that letter needs your immediate attention,” I said.
“Would you excuse me if I read it now?”
“I think you should do that.”
He sat down and slit the envelope. I watched him as he read.
His expression remained impassive. I did not know what he was feeling. He was a superb actor.
“If you feel you should leave…”
“How understanding you are! I think I must leave. It is disappointing that our meeting should be so brief.” He took my hands and looked searchingly into my face. “But we shall meet again…often. It has been so long.”
“You are going to be busy,” I reminded him. “Weddings need much preparation.”
“I often think of you, Lucinda.”
“Oh, do you? Well, I wish you happiness, and I hope everything goes as you wish.”
There was no mistaking his show of reluctance at leaving, and I wondered how much of it was genuine.
I was very disturbed. All that day I could not stop myself from thinking of him and his affairs.
The next morning I called at the Maida Vale address. Miss Emma Johns opened the door and invited me in.
“It was so good of you,” she said. “I knew that I could trust you to do all that should be done.”
“I am sure he will come,” I said.
“Oh, he came last night.”
“It must have been just after I gave him the letter. I discovered his address through my aunt, and I went at once to see him.”
“Thank you. Thank you. I can’t tell you what happiness his visit brought to Janet. She’ll the peacefully now. He saw the children, too. He’s always been good to them. He has assured her that everything will be all right. Their future is taken care of and there is nothing for us to worry about. He is such a good man…a dear man. I don’t know how to thank you, Miss Greenham. I knew you’d help. I knew I shouldn’t have to worry if I could see you and explain.”
“I am so pleased I was able to be of use.”
“Janet’s sleeping peacefully now. She blessed him and said she hoped he’d be happy in his marriage. She said his bride was the luckiest woman in the world. Poor Janet, she did love him so much. He was wonderful with her. I heard her laughing. I know now she’ll die happy. She knows he still cares for her and she always understood how it had to be. Thank you again, Miss Greenham, for all you have done.”
“It was really very little.”
“You’ll never know how much.”
I came away from Maida Vale feeling I had learned another vital lesson about human nature.
I wondered what the general opinion would be about Marcus and his secret family hidden away in Maida Vale. But what happiness he had brought to that family. The unselfishness of genuine love was brought home to me. Janet Johns was prepared to remain the mistress in the background of his life; she was happy to accept what he could give her and be content. She must have loved him very much.
I learned something about him, too. He was superficial, but he certainly knew how to inspire devotion. It occurred to me that we were all complicated beings and that none of us should stand in judgment against any other.
A few days later I received a letter from Marcus.
My dear Lucinda,
How kind of you to act as go-between in this matter! You especially would understand. Thank you for all the trouble you took. Everyone concerned is most grateful. You have acted as I would expect you to…with the utmost kindness and tact.
I hope all goes well with you always. Annabelinda has told me how delighted you are to have her brother with you. She has explained to me what truly great friends you are.
I am hoping to see you soon.
Admiring you, as ever,
Marcus
I thought how typical of him that letter was. He treated the matter of his secret family as though it were nothing unusual; and the fact that I shared in the secrecy did not perturb him in the least. Who but Marcus would have skimmed over the exposure of his liaison with such composure?
I still found myself thinking of him rather tenderly.