Giant’s Bread · Book I · VII · Chapter 1 7 4

IV

Joe and Vernon had few other children to play with. The Vicar, whose children Vernon had played with when he was younger, had gone to another living, and his successor was unmarried. Most of the children of families in the same position as the Deyres lived too far away for more than a very occasional visit.

The only exception was Nell Vereker. Her father, Captain Vereker, was agent to Lord Coomberleigh. He was a tall stooping man, with very pale blue eyes and a hesitating manner. He had good connections but was inefficient generally. His wife made up in efficiency for what he lacked. She was a tall commanding woman, still handsome. Her hair was very golden and her eyes were very blue. She had pushed her husband into the position he held, and in the same way she pushed herself into the best houses of the neighbourhood. She had birth, but like her husband, no money. Yet she was determined to make a success of life.

Both Vernon and Joe were bored to death by Nell Vereker. She was a thin pale child with fair straggly hair. Her eyelids and the tip of her nose were faintly tinged with pink. She was no good at anything. She couldn’t run and she couldn’t climb. She was always dressed in starched white muslin and her favourite games were dolls’ tea-parties.

Myra was very fond of Nell. “Such a thorough little lady,” she used to say. Vernon and Joe were kindly and polite when Mrs. Vereker brought Nell to tea. They tried to think of games she would like, and they used to give whoops of delight when at last she departed, sitting up very straight beside her mother in the hired carriage.

It was in Vernon’s second holidays, just after the famous episode of the wasps’ nest, that the first rumours came about Deerfields.

Deerfields was the property adjoining Abbots Puissants. It belonged to old Sir Charles Alington. Some friends of Mrs. Deyre’s came to lunch and the subject came up for discussion.

“It’s quite true. I had it from an absolutely authentic source. It’s been sold to these people.⁠ ⁠… Yes⁠—Jews! Oh! of course⁠—enormously wealthy. Yes, a fancy price, I believe. Levinne, the name is.⁠ ⁠… No, Russian Jews, so I heard.⁠ ⁠… Oh, of course quite impossible. Too bad of Sir Charles, I say.⁠ ⁠… Yes, of course, there’s the Yorkshire property as well and I hear he’s lost a lot of money lately.⁠ ⁠… No, no one will call. Naturally.”

Joe and Vernon were pleasurably excited. All titbits about Deerfields were carefully stored up. At last the strangers arrived and moved in. There was more talk of the same kind.

“Oh, absolutely impossible, Mrs. Deyre.⁠ ⁠… Just as we thought.⁠ ⁠… One wonders what they think they are doing.⁠ ⁠… What do they expect?⁠ ⁠… I dare say they’ll sell the place and move away.⁠ ⁠… Yes, there is a family. A boy. About your Vernon’s age, I believe.”

“I wonder what Jews are like,” said Vernon to Joe. “Why does everyone dislike them? We thought one boy at school was a Jew, but he eats bacon for breakfast, so he can’t be.”

The Levinnes proved to be a very Christian brand of Jew. They appeared in church on Sunday, having taken a whole pew. The interest of the congregation was breathless. First came Mr. Levinne⁠—very round and stout, tightly frock-coated⁠—an enormous nose and a shining face. Then Mrs.⁠—an amazing sight. Colossal sleeves! Hourglass figure! Chains of diamonds! An immense hat decorated with feathers and black tightly curling ringlets underneath it. With them was a boy rather taller than Vernon with a long yellow face, and protruding ears.

A carriage and pair was waiting for them when service was over. They got into it and drove away.

“Well!” said Miss Crabtree.

Little groups formed, talking busily.