the radiator in the living-room, curled herself up on the sofa with a rug over her, and slept. She did not wake until the middle of the morning, when the district nurse came.
Her father came down to Ealing alone. Her mother had made arrangements to come with him, but she was coughing a good deal and far from well, and on the news of her mother’s death Jennifer’s father had persuaded his wife to stay at home and not risk making herself ill just for the funeral. So he came down alone, and met his daughter at the house at about two o’clock.
“I’m very sorry you had this alone, Jenny,” he said. “I’m very sorry indeed.”
“That’s all right, Daddy,” she said. “It’s a good thing I was working in London.”
He glanced around the drawing-room. “She was very fond of this house,” he said. “We tried once or twice to get her to come up to Leicester and live near us, but she insisted on staying here.”
The girl nodded. “This was her own house, and she wouldn’t have wanted to be a burden upon anybody. She was very independent.”
Her father said, “We never dreamed that there was anything wrong with her pension, or her money generally. I suppose I should have come to see her more often, and gone into things a bit more.”
“She probably wouldn’t have told you,” the girl said.
He asked her about the practical business of the doctor and the death certificate and the undertaker, and went out to see about thesethings himself. Jennifer went out to find somewhere for her father and herself to stay that night, and with some difficulty found a private hotel with a couple of bedrooms empty; then she went back to the house to wait for her father. When he came she made him tea, and they sat in the drawing-room among the Burmese relics before an electric radiator while she told him what had happened the night before.
“She insisted on giving me the cheque,” she told her father, “and she made me go out and post it to my bank. What ought I to do, Daddy? I’ll have to pay it back to the executor, shan’t I?”
He shook his head. “Keep it.”
“Is that all right?”
“I think so,” he said. “Unless she’s changed her will, I’m the executor and the whole of the residuary estate goes to your mother. The four hundred pounds is probably yours, legally. But anyway, it doesn’t matter.”
“Oughtn’t it to go back to Aunt Jane?” She paused. “After all, she sent it for Granny, not for me.”
He pondered this. “Did you say there was a letter from Jane Dorman?”
She went and fetched it for him from her grandmother’s room, and he read it carefully. “I don’t think you need give it back,” he said. “The intention is quite clear; she says that if Ethel didn’t need it she was to give it to a charity. Well, she doesn’t need it, and she’s given it to you. It’s yours to do what you like with, Jenny.”
The girl stared at the hot elements of the fire. “I’m not so sure about that,” she said. “I think it’s mine to do what Granny liked.”
“What do you mean?”
She told him what had passed between them in the last hour of the old life. “She kept saying what a rotten time girls have in England now, compared with when she was young,” she said. “I suppose all old people are like that, that everything was better in their day. And then, it seemed quite definite, she wanted me to go and see Aunt Jane with the money. Go to Australia, I mean. It seemed as if she thought that I’d be getting back into the sort of life she knew when she was a girl, if I went out there and stayed with Aunt Jane.”
Her father said thoughtfully, “I see. Do you want to go, Jenny?”
The girl said honestly, “I don’t know. I’ve not had time to think about it. I’d love to travel, of course, and see something of the world. But Granny’s world … that’s gone for ever, surely? Huntin’ and shootin’ and fishin’, and about fifteen servants all calling you Madam…. If
Her father came down to Ealing alone. Her mother had made arrangements to come with him, but she was coughing a good deal and far from well, and on the news of her mother’s death Jennifer’s father had persuaded his wife to stay at home and not risk making herself ill just for the funeral. So he came down alone, and met his daughter at the house at about two o’clock.
“I’m very sorry you had this alone, Jenny,” he said. “I’m very sorry indeed.”
“That’s all right, Daddy,” she said. “It’s a good thing I was working in London.”
He glanced around the drawing-room. “She was very fond of this house,” he said. “We tried once or twice to get her to come up to Leicester and live near us, but she insisted on staying here.”
The girl nodded. “This was her own house, and she wouldn’t have wanted to be a burden upon anybody. She was very independent.”
Her father said, “We never dreamed that there was anything wrong with her pension, or her money generally. I suppose I should have come to see her more often, and gone into things a bit more.”
“She probably wouldn’t have told you,” the girl said.
He asked her about the practical business of the doctor and the death certificate and the undertaker, and went out to see about thesethings himself. Jennifer went out to find somewhere for her father and herself to stay that night, and with some difficulty found a private hotel with a couple of bedrooms empty; then she went back to the house to wait for her father. When he came she made him tea, and they sat in the drawing-room among the Burmese relics before an electric radiator while she told him what had happened the night before.
“She insisted on giving me the cheque,” she told her father, “and she made me go out and post it to my bank. What ought I to do, Daddy? I’ll have to pay it back to the executor, shan’t I?”
He shook his head. “Keep it.”
“Is that all right?”
“I think so,” he said. “Unless she’s changed her will, I’m the executor and the whole of the residuary estate goes to your mother. The four hundred pounds is probably yours, legally. But anyway, it doesn’t matter.”
“Oughtn’t it to go back to Aunt Jane?” She paused. “After all, she sent it for Granny, not for me.”
He pondered this. “Did you say there was a letter from Jane Dorman?”
She went and fetched it for him from her grandmother’s room, and he read it carefully. “I don’t think you need give it back,” he said. “The intention is quite clear; she says that if Ethel didn’t need it she was to give it to a charity. Well, she doesn’t need it, and she’s given it to you. It’s yours to do what you like with, Jenny.”
The girl stared at the hot elements of the fire. “I’m not so sure about that,” she said. “I think it’s mine to do what Granny liked.”
“What do you mean?”
She told him what had passed between them in the last hour of the old life. “She kept saying what a rotten time girls have in England now, compared with when she was young,” she said. “I suppose all old people are like that, that everything was better in their day. And then, it seemed quite definite, she wanted me to go and see Aunt Jane with the money. Go to Australia, I mean. It seemed as if she thought that I’d be getting back into the sort of life she knew when she was a girl, if I went out there and stayed with Aunt Jane.”
Her father said thoughtfully, “I see. Do you want to go, Jenny?”
The girl said honestly, “I don’t know. I’ve not had time to think about it. I’d love to travel, of course, and see something of the world. But Granny’s world … that’s gone for ever, surely? Huntin’ and shootin’ and fishin’, and about fifteen servants all calling you Madam…. If
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