The Berry Scene by Dornford Yates

Author:Dornford Yates
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Berry Scene
ISBN: 9780755127078
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2013-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

I shall always consider that Berry did very well.

He spoke to Thomas Basing and shortly told him the facts. Then he asked him to visit Congreve without delay. “Much will depend,” he told him, “on how you handle this man, for Congreve alone can procure you admission to Rokesby Hall. If you shake Congreve, he will shake Mrs Medallion – enough to make her receive you and hear what you say. Then, after lunching with us, you can drive over to Rokesby and see the Arras Room. Perhaps she will let you sleep there, if that should be your desire.”

Basing was greatly excited and promised to act at once. And so he must have done, for that afternoon he rang up, to say that he had seen Congreve, who was returning to Rokesby the following day. “Mrs Medallion will receive me at four o’clock. Whether I can convince her, I do not know. But Congreve is clearly shaken and dreads that a grave injustice may have been done.”

Toby Rage had withdrawn to his Club; and there we had undertaken to ring him up. But not until after dinner. In any event it was better that he should keep out of the way.

Berry glanced at his watch and, using the greatest caution, rose to his feet.

“The stage,” he declared, “is set. If Mrs Medallion determines to stop her ears, there’s an end of the matter – and Toby, too. Of course she’s a very hard case, and more than once, in the past, our Toby has put a foot wrong. But Basing sounded all right and he’s got some way. That Congreve’s returning to Rokesby is excellent news. And now I’m going to shamble about the lawn. It can’t make my back any worse, and I must have some air.”

“I’ll come in five minutes,” said Daphne. “I must see Bridget about the laundry-maid.”

(As her mother before her, Bridget Ightham had risen to be our housekeeper: and, as her mother before her, she had come to command our affection and our respect.)

Jill and I made our way to the tennis-court…

“Poor Toby,” said my small cousin. “I do think Mrs Medallion should take his word.”

“So she should,” said I. “Except to save another, Toby would never lie. The lady is in a cleft stick. If she takes Toby’s word, she must allow that there are such things as ghosts. And that she cannot do. Ghosts are to her as miracles are to us. We don’t believe in miracles. And—”

“I do,” said Jill simply.

“I know, my sweet. But then you have a faith that most of us don’t possess.”

“I can’t see why,” said Jill. “Why we all shouldn’t have it, I mean. I’ve never seen a miracle done, but when you look at the world – and the dawn and the dusk and the seasons…a frosty night without a breath of wind or a cloud in the sky… I know people take them for granted, but those are miracles, Boy. Of course they were done a great many years ago, and I suppose we’ve got used to them.

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