THE WITCH NEXT DOOR

EPISODE 42

Previously:-

" And when they were gone he reflected with added zest on the six thousand pounds he was getting for them out of Joe Pillin and his ships. He would have to pitch it strong in his speech at the general meeting. With freights so low, there was bound to be opposition. No dash nowadays; nothing but gabby caution! They were a scrim-shanking lot on the Board--he had had to pull them round one by one--the deuce of a tug getting this thing through! And yet, the business was sound enough.

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Those ships would earn money, properly handled-good money. His valet, coming in to prepare him for dinner, found him asleep. He had for the old man as much admiration as may be felt for one who cannot put his own trousers on. He would say to the housemaid Molly: "He's a game old blighter--must have been a rare one in his day. c***s his hat at you, even now, I see!"

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To which the girl, Irish and pretty, would reply: "Well, an' sure I don't mind, if it gives um a pleasure. 'Tis better anyway than the sad eye I get from herself." At dinner, old Heythorp always sat at one end of the rosewood table and his daughter at the other.”

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She had a horror, too, of what she called "the pleasures of the table"--those lusts of the flesh! She was always longing to dock his grub, he knew. Would see her further first! What other pleasures were there at his age? Let her wait till she was eighty. But she never would be; too thin and holy! This evening, however, with the advent of the partridge she did speak."Who were your visitors, Father?" Trust her for nosing anything out! Fixing his little blue eyes on her, he mumbled with a very full mouth: "Ladies." "So I saw; what ladies?"

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He had a longing to say: 'Part of one of my families under the rose.' As a fact it was the best part of the only one, but the temptation to multiply exceedingly was almost overpowering. He checked himself, however, and went on eating partridge, his secret irritation crimsoning his cheeks; and he watched her eyes, those cold precise and round grey eyes, noting it, and knew she was thinking: 'He eats too much.

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' She said: "Sorry I'm not considered fit to be told. You ought not to be drinking hock." Old Heythorp took up the long green glass, drained it, and repressing fumes and emotion went on with his partridge. His daughter pursed her lips, took a sip of water, and said:"I know their name is Larne, but it conveyed nothing to me; perhaps it's just as well." The old man, mastering a spasm, said with a grin: "My daughter-in-law and my granddaughter.

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" "What! Ernest married--Oh! nonsense!" He chuckled, and shook his head. "Then do you mean to say, Father, that you were married before you married my mother?" "No." The expression on her face was as good as a play! She said with a . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . sort of disgust: "Not married! I see. I suppose those people are hanging round your neck, then; no wonder you're always in difficulties. Are there any more of them?" Again the old man suppressed that spasm, and the veins in his neck and forehead swelled alarmingly. If he had spoken he would infallibly have choked. He ceased eating, and putting his hands on the table tried to raise himself.He could not and subsiding in his chair sat glaring at the stiff, quiet figure of his daughter. "Don't be silly, Father, and make a scene before Meller. Finish your dinner." He did not answer.

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He was not going to sit there to be dragooned and insulted! His helplessness had never so weighed on him before. It was like a revelation. A log--that had to put up with anything! A log! And, waiting for his valet to return, he cunningly took up his fork. In that saintly voice of hers she said:"I suppose you don't realise that it's a shock to me. I don't know what Ernest will think--" "Ernest be d---d." "I do wish, Father, you wouldn't swear.

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" Old Heythorp's rage found vent in a sort of rumble. How the devil had he gone on all these years in the same house with that woman, dining with her day after day! But the servant had come back now, and putting down his fork he said: "Help me up!

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" The man paused, thunderstruck, with the souffle balanced. To leave dinner unfinished--it was a portent! "Help me up!" "Mr. Heythorp's not very well, Meller; take his other arm." The old man shook off her hand. "I'm very well. Help me up. Dine in my own room in future." Raised to his feet, he walked slowly out; but in his sanctum he did not sit down, obsessed by this first overwhelming realisation of his helplessness. He stood swaying a little, holding on to the table, till the servant, having finished serving dinner, brought in his port. "Are you waiting to sit down, sir?" He shook his head. Hang it, he could do that for himself, anyway.

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