The Jalna Saga – Deluxe Edition: All Sixteen Books of the Enduring Classic Series & The Biography of Mazo de la Roche (654 page)

“You shall not marry,” she said, “if you do not want to; but remember — you must return every one of your wedding presents, with a note explaining that the wedding is not to take place.”

Adeline almost screamed: “Write fifty notes of that sort — on top of all my thank-you notes? I’d rather get married!”

Archer now came carrying a tray with instant coffee and digestive biscuits for all four. “I would feel just the same if I were going to be married. I’d scream the house down.”

Adeline laughed through her tears and hungrily ate more than her share of the digestive biscuits. From this time she moved forward to the ceremony without hesitation.

On the morning preceding the wedding, Finch, accompanied by Dennis, came to view the presents. Renny went with them into the library. “A nice display, isn’t it?” he said, with the very same expression he wore when showing the medals and ribbons won by his horses.

“Very nice indeed,” Finch said admiringly. “Keep your hands off them, Dennis,” he added, as the boy handled one thing after another.

Dennis wore a white singlet and grey trousers. He looked fragile, yet alert and happy. With him out of earshot, Renny said to Finch, “what are you going to do about him, now that the visit to Ireland is off?”

“I have heard of a school in New England where they take in difficult boys and, as I have some concert engagements there, I’m going to take him along.”

Dennis had caught the last words. Now he came, with a light, almost dancing step to Renny. “My father and I,” he said proudly, “are to travel together. It’s the first time we’ve done that since I was a little fellow and he brought me from California after my mother died.”

“That will be fun,” said Renny.

“Yes, won’t it?” He caught Finch’s sleeve in his hand and held it. He added, “I’m going to hear him play in two concerts. I’ve heard him practicing these pieces. I won’t be like the rest of the audience. I’ll know everything beforehand, and that’s what I like.”

The midsummer leaves made silken-green curtains for every window of the church. The clay had come when Renny led his only daughter up the aisle to give her in marriage to the bridegroom of his choice. Young Philip, immaculately dressed, looked a young man to be proud of. He and his brother Christian stood at the chancel steps for what seemed a long time before the bride appeared. The small church was packed with people. A sigh of admiration rose from them as Adeline, very pale and beautiful, progressed along the aisle. Renny led her proudly, protectively. Her only attendant was her little cousin, Mary.

Mary also was in white and carried a basket of rosebuds. It was a trial to her to be stared at by so many people. Entering the church, with the air vibrating with the clamour of the wedding bells, she saw Noah Binns frantically ringing them. “I’ll ring them wedding bells,” he had declared, “if it’s the last thing I do.” He put his creaking back into the ordeal and he survived, gasping and ghastly.

As Mary moved along the aisle, her downcast eyes were fixed on the sweet rosebuds in the basket she carried. She was not surprised to see among them a pretty little blond spider. Whether it was for the spider or for herself she did not know, but a tear shone bright on her pink cheek. Piers saw it as she passed close to him and could scarcely stop himself from wiping it away.

Both Philip and Adeline made their responses with admirable clarity. Firmly he placed the ring on her finger, and, led by the Rector, said “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

They knelt together, she who had held his hand and helped him to learn to walk. They who had pulled each other’s hair in childish combat.

Finch was at the organ, and never in that church had the wedding march been played with such splendid dominion over the instrument.

The air was full of music and admiring congratulations. Adeline remained very pale, but Philip was rosy as a young god.

Renny Whiteoak had, for this occasion, bought a new car; and Wright, well turned out in dark blue, with chauffeur’s cap, was to drive the newly wed pair to Jalna. Wright was proud of his part in these important doings. He drove the car slowly and with dignity. Behind him Philip and Adeline sat, a little embarrassed, as though surprised to find themselves alone together. He just touched the flowers of her bouquet. “Pretty,” he said.

She drew away. “Don’t,” she said.

“Okay” he said, and took out his gold cigarette case, a wedding present, and lighted a cigarette.

“Don’t,” she repeated.

“why not?” he asked, surprised.

“It isn’t appropriate.”

He sent a puff of smoke down his nostrils.

In a sudden fury she snatched the cigarette from his lips. They scuffled for it, but before he recovered it it had fallen on her veil and burned a small hole in it.

“Oh — I am sorry!” he exclaimed.

She tapped Wright on the shoulder. “Stop the car, Wright,” she ordered, still in a fury.

Wright stopped the car. He looked inquiringly over his shoulder.

Adeline opened the door. “I’m getting out,” she said.

“what’s wrong?” asked Wright dumfounded.

“Everything,” she raged. “Look at this.” She pointed to the hole in her veil.

“I didn’t mean to,” said Philip — “I’m sorry.”

“I’m getting out,” she repeated.

“You can’t,” shouted Philip, and caught her by the wrist.

But she had the door wide open and was already, impeded though she was by train, veil, and bouquet, descending into the dusty road.

This was the sight that met the eyes of Renny Whiteoak in the car following. In an instant he, too, was in the road coming to meet her. She poured out an incoherent story of the mishap, while Philip, very red in the face, followed her along the road. Other cars, filled with wedding guests, were collecting.

Renny took his daughter by the hand. “There’s a good girl,” he repeated soothingly. “A good girl. What’s a little hole in your veil? Come, come.”

“It’s not only that,” she said. “It’s everything.”

“There’s a good girl,” he soothed, as though she were a nervous filly. “There’s a good girl.”

“You’ve got to come in the car with us,” she said. “I won’t go in it without you.”

To humour her, he got into the car with her; and so the bride, the bridegroom, and the bride’s father returned to Jalna together. They were silent, Philip gazing resolutely out of the window, Adeline holding tightly to Renny’s thin muscular hand. When the car stopped at the door that stood in welcome wide open, Renny put off his air of tenderness and said authoritatively: “Now you will stand in the receiving line and behave yourself properly. No more tantrums or I’ll take a stick to your back.” But he smiled as he said it.

Something very like a smirk dimpled Philip’s cheek. He offered his arm to Adeline and she laid her slender gloved band on it. Little Mary had overheard this threat, for she was waiting in the porch. Now she stole to a corner of the dining room and had a little cry.

But she was not left in peace. Rags soon sought her out. “They’re asking for you, Miss,” he said, “to stand in the line. And what a picture you look, to be sure!” He led her to the drawing room.

How glad she would be when all was over and she was safe at home, in an old cool dress, and with Ernest to play with! It was a comforting thought to her that some of the men of the family would very soon be leaving. Philip was going on what he called a honeymoon. Maurice and Patrick were soon to go to Ireland. Uncle Finch was taking Dennis to the States; she hoped he would never come back.

Mary did not think of Ernest as a male. He was a baby — hers to play with and keep for her own, always. Now, in an old dress, she bent over him as he lay in his cot laughing up at her. The bright whites of his eyes showed round the bright blue of the iris. He had got two teeth.

Her face close to his, she sniffed the pleasing scent of his flesh.

“You’re prettier than a spider,” she said, “sweeter than a rose.”

“what’s that you say, Mary?” demanded Pheasant.

“Oh, nothing,” said Mary.

THE END

RICH AND FAMOUS WRITER

Heather Kirk

Copyright © 2010 The Estate of Mazo de la Roche and Dundurn Press Limited

First published in Canada by Macmillan Company of Canada in 1953.

This 2010 edition of The Whiteoak Brothers is published in a new trade paperback format.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of undurn Press. Permission to photocopy should be requested from Access Copyright.

Editor: Michael Carroll
Copy Editor: Matt Baker
Design: Courtney Horner
Epub Design: Laura Boyle

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

De la Roche, Mazo, 1879-1961.
     The Whiteoak brothers / by Mazo De La Roche.

ISBN 978-1-55488-741-5

    I. Title.
PS8507.E43W4 2010       C813'.52        C2009-907535-0

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Ontario Arts Council
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through the
Book Publishing Industry Development Program
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, and the
Government of Ontario
through the
Ontario Book Publishers Tax Credit
program, and the
Ontario Media Development Corporation
.

Care has been taken to trace the ownership of copyright material used in this book. The author and the publisher welcome any information enabling them to rectify any references or credits in subsequent editions.

J. Kirk Howard, President

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