WHITEOAK HERITAGE

Reunion 23“I placed Mr. Renny at the head of the table of my own accord,ma’am. I thought that as it is him that owns the house it was natural hewould like to carve.”“Well! Well!” said Ernest. He eyed the pair of juicy roast chickensalmost accusingly, as though they had in some way been disloyal to theestablished order of things. Although he and Nicholas had had their fairshare of their father’s money, they could not help the inward twinge ofmortification at their younger brother’s inheriting of Jalna. But he hadbeen dead for four years and the sting of it had subsided. Renny’s return,his inheritance through his father and this pointed reminder of it, madethem uncomfortably aware of the change in family relations.“You should not have done such a thing without an express order,”said Lady Buckley.“Certainly not, certainly not,” agreed Ernest.“It doesn’t matter,” growled Nicholas.“An order from me!” exclaimed old Adeline. “Nothing’s to bechanged without an order from me. But it’s right for Renny to be at thehead of the table. He’s his father’s eldest son. Jalna is his … Well, now,where do you want me to sit? I begin to feel very weak. I need food.” Shepeered eagerly at the full-breasted birds on the platter.Nicholas got her into her chair. She unfolded her napkin and tuckedit deftly beneath her chin.“Don’t let those dogs in, boys,” she commanded.Eliza stood rigid, her lips puckered, on the defensive against criticismof her act. All eyes were fixed expectantly on the stairway whichcould be glimpsed through the open door. Ernest kept repeating underhis breath — “Well, well!” Nicholas drummed on the table with his fingers.Eden looked slyly at Meg, urging her to laughter, but she kepther countenance. The dogs made a concerted effort at return but wasrepulsed by the boys. The shadows of their waving tails were thrownagainst the pale woodwork of the staircase.Renny’s feelings as he went up to his old room were a strange mixtureof the familiar and the dreamlike. He had so often imagined it in hisyears of absence that now in its reality it was dwarfed and pressed in onitself. His own reflection in the mirror stared out at him like a stranger.