Free The Young Clementina by D. E. Stevenson

don’t you? He must be mad.”
    â€œBut he can’t divorce you for that—for going out to lunch—”
    â€œNo, he can’t, he can’t do a thing. He’s got no proof…I shall fight it…he’ll see…he shan’t drag me through the mud…he’ll find I have something to say about it. He can’t prove anything wrong—not a thing—he’s mad. Garth is mad…I shall tell everyone he is mad…don’t look at me like that, Charlotte. What are you thinking about?”
    â€œI’m just thinking how glad I am that father is dead.”
    â€œChar! Oh, Char, don’t be a brute! It isn’t my fault; how could I help Garth going mad? There never was anything wrong, it’s all made up. He’s got to prove it and he can’t. You’ll see, Char, Garth will be the laughingstock of the—Char, speak to me, tell me it will be all right.”
    â€œHow can I, when I know nothing about it?” I asked her in a dazed way. “I don’t understand—anything.”
    â€œSay it will be all right,” she cried, seizing my hand. “Comfort me, Char. You must comfort me and say everything will be all right. I’ve had a ghastly day—simply ghastly. I didn’t know what to do—my head is bursting—you might be nice to me, Char.”
    â€œTell me more about it,” I said helplessly.
    â€œI’ve told you all about it,” she replied. “I’ve told you the whole thing is made up—a tissue of lies—what more is there to tell you? Char, you must go and see Garth and tell him to withdraw it—or whatever it is they do—tell him he can’t divorce me. I can’t stand it; I shall go mad—tell him that. You must , Charlotte, I’ve got nobody else, you must help me.”
    â€œWhere is Garth?” I asked her.
    â€œIn Wales. He has been away for weeks, climbing mountains or something. He goes off and enjoys himself, he never thinks of me; he’s utterly selfish, utterly selfish. My God, he shall pay for this—this insult.”
    She talked on wildly for a long time, wringing her hands and walking about the room. I could make no sense of what she said and I scarcely knew what questions to ask her to clarify matters, the whole thing was so unexpected, so bewildering, so absolutely incredible to me. The only coherent idea in Kitty’s head was that I should see Garth, that I should start off at once, for the outlandishly named Welsh village where he was staying, and persuade him to withdraw the petition.
    â€œHe’d do it if you asked him to,” she said confidently.
    â€œI’m quite sure he wouldn’t.”
    â€œHe would, I know he would.”
    â€œWhy on earth should he?” I asked.
    â€œOh, you have always been friends,” she said, looking at me strangely. “That’s why I came to you. If you ask Garth to withdraw it, he will. It’s not much to ask—I think you might do that much for me—for your only sister.”
    â€œMy dear Kitty, you are quite mistaken. Garth and I…haven’t been friends for years. He doesn’t even like me now. Besides, we don’t know, it might be a foolish move. We ought to consult a solicitor first.”
    â€œA solicitor,” cried Kitty. “Of course, I must go to a solicitor. I’ve been half mad with the worry of it or I would have thought of it before. Ring up and order a taxi at once.”
    She took out a comb and began to tidy her hair in front of the little mirror in my sitting room, and to rouge her lips.
    My idea was to take Kitty to father’s solicitors—an old-established firm—but Kitty declared they would be no use at all. She knew of somebody else, somebody I had never heard of.
    â€œHe’s clever,” she said. “I must have somebody with his head screwed on properly. These old-fashioned firms are no use at all. Mr.