Variable Winds at Jalna by Mazo de la Roche

Author:Mazo de la Roche
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn Press
Published: 2010-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

XII

A Variety of Scenes

PATIENCE HAD LEFT her lonely seat on the door-sill of the side entrance and wandered along a sandy path that skirted the orchards and led to where the vegetables flourished. It was a season of rich growth. Among their dark leaves could be glimpsed the white of cauliflowers, the long pale shapes of vegetable marrows, the golden spheres of squash. In orderly rows the beets, the parsnips, the carrots. No one troubled to admire them, thought Patience, yet in their own fashion they were beautiful. A plum tree stood among them, though it had no right to be there. No other, not even the damson, made such good jam. It was delicious to eat, also. Patience picked one, and before she bit into it admired it as it lay on her palm. The moonlight seemed to admire it too, increasing its bloom, its lustre, till it was almost as lovely as a flower.

Beyond the vegetable garden a field had been given over to tomato plants. They had not been properly staked but had been allowed to run wild over the ground. Yet it was amazing to see how productive they were. Hundreds upon hundreds of tomatoes gleamed, red and smooth as silk, along the pungent vines.

Patience saw the form of a man bending among the vines, filling a basket with the fruit. At first she thought it might be one of the farm hands, but coming closer she saw that it was Humphrey Bell, a young man who lived alone in a house beyond the ravine. This house belonged to Renny Whiteoak. Humphrey Bell was a writer of short stories, who earned just enough to keep soul and body together. Soul was pure-minded, to judge by the look in his eyes. Body also was attractive, except for the extreme paleness of his hair and eyelashes. In the moonlight these looked almost white, but his eyes were of a charming harebell blue.

“Hullo,” called out Patience. “Getting some tomatoes?”

He straightened himself. “Yes, and I’m not the thief I look. Your uncle told me to help myself.” He displayed the basket half full of tomatoes. “I really have taken more than I need. That’s the way when one gets something for nothing.”

“I’ll help you,” said Patience. “Let’s get plums from that tree.” Without waiting for his reply she began to gather the plums. He stood admiring the grace of her arms as she reached upward, where was the finest fruit.

Then — “You’re looking unusually elegant,” he said, “for loitering in a vegetable garden.”

“We are having a family dinner party for Adeline’s fiancé and his sister.”

Humphrey said in his rather diffident way, the way of a sensitive man who is too much alone, “And you — I’d expect you to be in the middle of things — the life of the party.”

Patience laughed almost scornfully. “Me? Goodness, no. They’ll not miss me. As a matter of fact, the party is rather scattered. The young people have paired off and are strolling about in the moonlight.

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