Centenary at Jalna by Mazo de la Roche

Author:Mazo de la Roche
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn Press
Published: 2011-07-11T00:00:00+00:00

XVIII

Back to Fiddler’s Hut

The wind blew bitterly cold from the north on this morning. It blew the leaves from the trees, almost to the last one, so that the trees stood naked; their lovely shapes, which had been veiled by the foliage, now spread themselves in intermingling limbs against the stormy sky. The seven who had so eagerly arrived were just as eager to turn homeward. To place Sylvia and Wakefield safe and sound at home again was Finch’s concern. To return to his studio and finish the sketches he had made was Christian’s. Maurice, in a mood of melancholy, wandered alone by the lake. Only Adeline and Pat Crawshay were concerned to leave the house in order. In her there was a fastidiousness that refused to leave confusion behind her. In him there was the desire to help her in whatever she did. He sought to make himself as much like the others as possible, yet so strong was his individuality that it could not be done. He could sail a boat, shout, sing, be half-drowned or half-drunk, but always was the product of a serene life.

Finch drove his car to the opening of the path that led to Fiddler’s Hut. There Wakefield alighted.

“Your things will come in the other car,” Finch said to him. “Are you all right? Shall I go with you?”

“I’m fine,” said Wakefield. “I’ll go alone and surprise Molly.”

Sylvia was so tired that, wrapped in a rug, she was half-asleep in her corner of the car. Wakefield closed the door as quietly as he could, murmured a goodbye, and went off along the path. The golden leaves lay thick on it. Wakefield experienced a thrill as of childhood in scuffing through them. He moved leisurely along the path, scuffing the leaves, his face already alight for Molly’s welcome.

The door of the Hut was closed and it pleased him to knock on it softly rather than to walk straight in. Molly must have been expecting him the day before. She would be anxious when he told her of all he had been through.

He knocked a second time but there was no answer.

“Are you there, Molly?” He called out and opened the door and went in.

How tidy the room was! Tidy and empty and silent as was all the Hut. He saw the letter lying on the table and snatched it up and tore it open. He read:

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