Menfreya in the Morning

4

When Fanny and I arrived at Liskeard I was surprised to find A’Lee waiting for me. I had known that I was to be met, but I was expecting the Menfreya carriage.

“Miss Gwennan’s orders,” said A’Lee, greeting me as though I had never been away.

“But isn’t this the Leverets’ carriage?”

“She be almost a Leveret, Miss Harriet. She be giving her orders already.”

His lower jaw shook with suppressed laughter; I was certain that Gwennan was giving the neighborhood something to talk about.

On the way to Menfreya he told me that Gwennan herself had planned to meet me but had gone into Plymouth to see about some arrangements for the wedding.

“With most young ladies it’s their mammas that makes the arrangements. Not so with Miss Gwennan. Lady Menfrey learned to do as she was told long ago, I reckon.”

“And you’re looking forward to the day when she’s mistress of Chough Towers, I can see,” I said.

“There’ll be plenty and enough going on then, I reckon, Miss Harriet.”

“It’s good to be back,” I told him. “I feel as though I haven’t been away. Yet it’s quite a long time, A’Lee.”

“Aye, you’m right there. Quite a little maid you were when we last see ‘ee. Now you’m a young woman. It’ll be your turn next, I reckon.”

” ‘Well, nobody’s asked me, sir, she said,’ so far.”

His jaw wagged. “You were always a caution of a maid, you were, Miss Harriet. I reckon the one that has the sense to ask ‘ee will be doing well for himself.”

“Let’s hope that I have the sense to accept him when he does. It’s just struck me that this is a subject which occurs rather frequently in my life. Is it usual, or is it because I have reached that tiresome stage which is known as marriageable?”

“Oh, you be a regular caution, Miss Harriet”

‘Tell me, are there any changes here?”

“Doctor died some six months back.”

“Dr. Trelarken?”

“Yes. He took in a partner, Dr. Syms. He be there atone now.”

“And Miss Trelarken?”

“Oh, Miss Jessie, her went away … to London, I think. Her was staying with an aunt of hers up there, and there was talk of her being a governess or companion. There wasn’t no money, you know, and her’d have to earn her living like, poor young lady.”

“I should think she would be … capable.”

“Oh yes, very capable. Twouldn’t surprise me if her didn’t marry before long. She were a lovely-looking maiden.”

“Very beautiful.”

“Oh, yes. I always said to Mrs. A’Lee that it done you good to look at her. There was a time when we used to think…”

“Yes, what did you think?”

“Well, Mr. Bevil, he were sweet on her. Mind you, he’s been fond of a good many maidens in his time, I’d say; but with Jessie Trelarken it did look … Oh, well, seems it came to naught. He be a big politician now, as you do know. Got in with a big majority, I can tell ‘ee. People here is close, you do know. They like to stick to their own. Reckon they sees it as right and proper to be represented by a Menfrey again.”

“Oh yes, my father was a bit of an outsider, wasn’t he?”

“Well, ‘tis like this here. He didn’t never belong, did he? Now you, Miss, you have an air of belonging. I reckon it was because you come down here when you was a little 'un. And us don’t forget that you run away from London to come to we.”

“Oh … that was long ago.”

“Us don’t forget. It makes us think that you could belong with us more than most foreigners. You was a little 'un when you come here, and us do know that this is where you like best to be. Twas always so.”

“You’re right. I do feel happy here.” Then, Miss Harriet, it’s where you belong to be.”

“Look,” I cried, “I can see Menfreya Manor.”

“Aye, well be there in a little while now.”

“It’s always exciting to get the first glimpse after I’ve been away.”

“I can see you’ve a love for the old place. They say Mr. Harry have promised to do all sorts of things for the house after the marriage, and you can bet your dear life Miss Gwennan will keep him up to that.”

“You mean repairs?”

A’Lee pointed with his whip. “Place like that do need constant repairs, Miss Harriet. Why, what it do rightly need is men working on it all the time, for being big like that … and having stood up these many hundred years to our gales and our seas, well, stands to reason, it wants building up like.”

“And Harry Leveret is going to help. I’m so glad.”

“That’s why they’m so pleased with the marriage. I reckon they wouldn’t be so content to welcome in Mr. Harry but for his money. If you was to ask me, I reckon the lucky one in this little old wedding is Miss Gwennan. Menfrey! Why be so proud just because you can trace your ancestry back a few hundred years? Reckon we’ve all got ancestors, eh?”

“I reckon so,” I said.

“Well, if all the tales I’ve heard of Menfrey doings be true, ‘twouldn’t be all that to be proud about.”

“You’re right,” I answered. “Still, if the Leverets are pleased and the Menfreys too, that’s a fortunate state of affairs. Oh … look … there’s the island.”

“My word, yes, I’d been forgetting. It do belong to you now.”

“Not exactly to me. My father married and I have a stepmother.”

“Oh, to her then?”

“Not exactly to her either. I’m not at all sure. In any case, it’s in my family now.”

“Us don’t like it much … the old duchy passing into the hands of foreigners, but as I said: Ml rightly be the little maid’s, Miss Harriet’s, now, and that don’t seem so bad like.”

That’s kind of you.”

” Tisn’t kind. Tis true.”

“I shall look forward to going over to the island.”

“You don’t be planning to go spending no more nights there, I reckon.”

“I suppose everyone here will remember that forever.”

“”Oh, ‘twas a right good story. It were in the papers. Daughter of the Member and all … and all London looking for her when she were hiding here in the duchy … right here, you might say, in our very midst.”

“It was a silly thing to do. But remember, I was very young.”

“Us didn’t think it were all that silly.”

His jaw began to wag again and I was silent for now we had reached the gates of Menfreya, which faced the road, and were turning in through the archway on which was fixed the ancient clock which was never allowed to stop.

I looked up. It was keeping perfect time as usual, and I remarked on this.

” ‘Course it be in good order,” said A’Lee. “Reckon it mustn’t never be aught else. Tis Thomas Dawney’s task to see it do keep hi good order, and ‘tis what the Dawneys has been fed and clothed and roofed for, this last hundred years —ever since the clock did stop and Sir Redvers Menfrey were thrown from his horse, they Menfreys has made sure as nothing do happen to the clock.”

Through the gateway we went under the clock, past the lodge and those quarters which had been the home of Dawneys for a hundred years, and there were the lawns with the hydrangeas and azaleas all in bloom and the lovely cotoneaster which was covered in scarlet berries all through the winter.

In the great hall, with its pictures on the walls, its vaulted ceiling and its staircase on either side of which were suits of armor worn during the Civil War by the Menfreys of the day, I remembered that night when I was brought hi from the island by Bevil, and how Gwennan had stood on the staircase reproaching me.

Now A’Lee pulled the bellrope, and Pengelly, the Menfreys’ butler, came into the hall and conducted me into the red drawing room, where Lady Menfrey was waiting to receive me.

It was wonderful to be with Gwennan again. She was like a flame; she seemed to have been born with a radiance which was dazzling. I felt alive merely to look at her.

She came in while I was having tea with Lady Menfrey, swooped on me in her exuberant way and carried me to her room. She had changed, of course. She was indeed a woman—voluptuous and beautiful, eager and excited.

This, I thought, is Gwennan in love.

She talked about the plans for the wedding. The whole neighborhood expects a grand affair. It’ll be rather like a medieval pageant, I imagine. My wedding dress is going to be a copy of one worn by my great-great-great-grandmother. I have to keep going for fittings. Such a bore, because I have to take Dinah with me. Chaperone! Unmarried young ladies are not allowed to go into the big city alone. One of the best things about being married is freedom, I do assure you, Harriet You will be in chains still, while I shall be free.”

“Some husbands, I have heard, can be jailers.”

“Not my husband. Do you imagine I’d go from one prison to another?”

“Actually, I think your family is more lenient than most”

“What are we talking about when there’s so much to say? Now you are maid of honor. Makes me sound like a queen, doesn’t it? And you are going to be dressed in lilac chiffon and you’ll look…”

“Hideous,” I added.

“That’s the idea. A contrast to the beautiful bride.”

We were laughing together. It was good to be with Gwennan. The thought struck her, for she said so.

“I’m so glad you’ve come, Harriet When I’m married you must be our first guest at Chough.”

“It’s odd to think of you there.”

“Yes, isn’t it? Mind you, we’re making tremendous alterations. Harry is making it like a palace to fit his queen.”

“I believe you’re madly in love with him.”

“Shouldn’t I be? Only I’m supposed to hide it until the wedding day. He has to go on his knees to me before the day; then he forces me to mine when I have to honor and obey.”

“He wouldn’t dare!”

“I should hope not. He adores me. Now, listen. Tomorrow, we are going into Plymouth. It’s rather amusing. Dinah has a sister there, and I send her off to see her. That leaves us free.”

“Free for what?”

“You’ll see. But first we have to go to the dressmaker’s to see about that lilac gown of yours.”

She was smiling—looking I thought, into the future; and I realized how very fond I was of her, because I sensed a new softness in her and I guessed that was being in love. Gwennan would love more fiercely than most people. Everything she did was done with such verve. If Harry Leveret loved her and she loved him, they should be very happy.

Then she said a strange thing: “Harriet, I sometimes think I should have done well on the stage.”

I raised my eyebrows and waited for her to enlarge on this subject, but she said nothing and went on smiling into the future.

The next day we were driven to the station and there took the train to Plymouth. Dinah, Gwennan’s personal maid, accompanied us and deposited us at the dressmaker’s, arranging to pick us up late in the afternoon.

I said, “We are spending a long time at the dressmaker’s.” But Gwennan only smiled and retorted that I must leave everything to her.

I was measured; I saw the lilac material, and Gwennan said that we should come back in three days for my first fitting. We were in the shop for only half an hour.

“I have a treat in store for you, Harriet. We are going to the theater. You’ll like it. It’s rather wonderful. Romeo and Juliet. You remember how well you could read poetry, but you were no good in the plays, were you. You could never forget yourself. That’s your trouble.”

“Why didn’t you say we were going to the theater?”

“Why should I?”

“As a matter of interest.”

She was silent, and the smile still played about her lips.

“I might even take you backstage after the show.”

“You mean … you have a friend in the production?”

“You always said I surprised you, and you never knew what I was going to do next Are you surprised now?”

I agreed that I was.

“You’re going to enjoy this, Harriet.”

She bought our tickets and we went into the theater. I saw from the program that it was a repertory company who were spending a short season in Plymouth and were doing Henry Arthur Jones and Finero besides the occasional Shakespearean production.

But I was more interested in Gwennan’s attitude than anything I should see on the stage. Some adventure was in progress. I knew the signs and I began to have misgivings.

Why should she be so interested in the theater on the eve of her wedding?

She pointed to a name on the list of players. “Eve Ellington,” I read. “What of it?” I asked.

“You can’t guess who that is?”

J. shook my bead.

“Remember Jane Ellington?”

I did. I could see Jane in the center of our room in France, reciting scenes from Hamlet.

“Good heavens,” I said. “No!”

“Yes,” she answered. “She wrote to me that she would be here, and I came along to see her. Then I went backstage, as she had invited me, and I met some members of the company. I’ve been several times since.”

“That’s why you thought you’d like to be on the stage! Rather late to think about that when you’re shortly to become Mrs. Leveret, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said, “it’s very late. What you would call the eleventh hour.”

“No,” I said, “it’s on the stroke of midnight.”

“That won’t be until the actual ceremony,” she answered firmly.

“You wouldn’t be any good. You’d never learn a part”

The curtain rose and the play began. It was cheap and tawdry, I thought, and the acting indifferent; oddly enough, Gwennan seemed entranced. Romeo was handsome enough and I looked for his name hi the program: Benedict Bel-lairs; and I noticed that Eve Ellington played Lady Capulet. I recognized her immediately and settled down to watch her. Poor Jane, who had had such grand ideas!

When the curtain fell on the first act I said as much to Gwennan. “What rubbish,” she said. “She has to start, hasn’t she? I think it’s quite an … achievement.”

“You think she will be another Ellen Terry, and I suppose Romeo is Irving in embryo.”

“Why not?”

“I should imagine that even in the beginning of their careers they played rather differently.”

“You’re too cynical, Harriet You always are. Just because you don’t attempt anything, there’s no need to sneer at people who do.”

“Why . .. you’re stany-eyed!”

“I appreciate .effort, that’s all.”

I was silent I was beginning to feel really disturbed.

I thought the play was never coming to an end. I kept glancing at Gwennan; she was unaware of me; her eyes were intent on the stage. This was quite unexpected; but then it was the unexpected that one must expect with Gwennan.

Eagerly she took me backstage after the performance. I had never been behind the scenes of a theater before and I found it exciting, though somewhat squalid. It was pleasant to see Jane again; and she welcomed me warmly. We sat on a packing box and talked. She loved the life, she told me; she wouldn’t exchange it for the richest husband in the world. I guessed she was referring to Gwennan’s coming marriage. Her people had been averse to her going on the stage, so she had simply run away. She reckoned she was very possibly cut out of her father’s will. Who cared? The smell of greasepaint was worth all the fortunes in the world when you were eighteen and in love with your chosen profession.

Gwennan was talking to Romeo. He was still in costume and his face was shining with greasepaint; but I could see that he was very good-looking.

“I want to introduce you to Benedict Bellairs,” she told me.

He took my hand and bowed over it.

“Welcome backstage,” he said.

I felt a shiver of apprehension in my spine, I did not like Gwennan was secretive, which was strange, for she rarely kept anything to herself and had always said the first thing that came into her head without consideration. That was why the change was alarming.

I could not talk to her on the journey back because of the presence of Dinah; but I gathered that the visits to Plymouth, which had been very frequent, invariably included a visit to the theater.

Why had she suddenly become so interested?

After we had retired for the night I went to her room, determined to find out how seriously she was involved. As I knocked I heard her speaking, but she called, “Come in,” and I found her standing in the center of the room, in her dressing gown; she had obviously been declaiming in front of the mirror. I saw a book open on a table, and I knew it for the Shakespeare we had used at school.

“Juliet, I presume,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

I glanced at the open book. “The balcony scene. Let me hear you. ‘Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo …?' Start from there. I’ll be Mr. Benedict Bellairs.”

She had flushed. “Trust you!” she said angrily, and slammed the book shut.

“You certainly look stage-struck. Gwennan, what are you planning?”

“Nothing.”

“I always knew when you were scheming. Remember how I used to guess.”

“I was inspired by the performance this afternoon, that’s all”

“It’s more than I was.”

“Could you ever be inspired by anything?” , “Perhaps not Unless it’s your performance. Do let me see your Juliet.”

“Stop it.”

“I will when you tell me how far this has gone,”

“And stop that You sound like the mistress of the house who finds the master kissing the parlormaid.”

“Well, have you been kissing anyone?”

“Really, Harriet!”

“What about this Benedict person? You aren’t what you used to describe as ‘sowing your wild oats’ with him, an your”

“I find him interesting, that’s all”

“And does Harry know how interesting you find him?”

“Stop it! I wish you hadn’t come.”

“Perhaps I’d better go back.”

“Don’t be a fool. How could you now?”

“But, Gwennan, I am seriously concerned. You’re not a schoolgirl now; you’re a young woman on the verge of marriage. Have you thought of Harry?”

“I shall be thinking of Harry for the rest of my life. I want a chance to think of someone else … for the last time.”

“Spoken like a bride!” I said. “Gwennan, it’s time you grew up.”

“You tell me that. You … baby! What do you know of life? Only what you read.”

“It’s possible that one might discover more of life through books than backstage with a third-rate theatrical company.”

“Stop if.

“You’re becoming repetitive.”

“And you’re insolent.”

I rose to go, but she caught my hand. “Listen, Harriet The company is going away the week before the wedding. Then that will be the end.”

“I don’t like it”

“You wouldn’t, Madam Purity.”

“I only hope . ..”

“Liar. Your only hope is that Bevil falls in love with you and marries you.”

I turned away, but she would not let me go. “We know too much about each other, Harriet. And there’s something else we know. We’d always stand together—no matter what sort of trouble one of us was in.”

It was true.

The next day Gwennan and I rowed over to the island. There was the house with its four walls, each looking out on the sea. It had been freshened up a little, and I guessed that my father had had that done before he died, but old Menfreya furniture was still in the place.

“What does this remind you of?” asked Gwennan.

There was no need to ask. I should never see the island after a length of time without recalling the night I had spent mere, and most of all that moment of fear when I had heard Devil’s voice below and he had come in with the girl from the village. I had been too innocent then to realize for what purpose he had brought her there; but of course I knew now that that would have been one incident in a long chain of similar ones in Devil’s life.

I felt vaguely depressed, thinking of Harry, who loved Gwennan; and Gwennan, who on the eve of marriage to him was letting her fancy stray to Benedict Bellairs; and Bevil, who like his father and most of the male Menfreys, seemed to believe it was the natural order of things to fly from female to female like a bee whose duty in life was pollination.

The boat had run aground and we scrambled out.

“Fancy,” she said. “It’s yours now. This little bit of land is lost to the Menfreys forever. It’s like the sea slowly encroaching on the land. And here it is rising from the ocean. A reproach to us every time we look out to sea. In years to come future Menfreys will shake their heads and say: ‘Sir Endelion lost the island. That was a dark hour for Menfreya.’ Unless, of course, it comes back to the family through marriage.”

“Perhaps,” I suggested, “the marriage of a daughter to a rich man might make it possible to buy back the island.”

“It’s not easy to wrest Menfrey soil from those who acquire it Money is not always enough.”

“Let’s have a look at the house.”

I unlocked the door.

“Typical,” said Gwennan. “In our day the doors were never locked. Change and decay in all around I see …”

“It looks less decayed than when it was yours.”

“It looks almost prim. I wonder what the ghosts think now.”

“Are there more than one?”

“I think so. This is a much-haunted house. But perhaps the ghosts won’t appear for foreigners. They’re very particular, Cornish ghosts are.”

She was unnaturally flippant I wondered whether she was a little ashamed.

We went through the house, passing among the dust-shrouded furniture. I broke away from her and went alone to the bedroom where Bevil had discovered me. I could picture him now pulling off the dust sheet and myself looking up at him. Bevil, for whom I felt a special need … now!

“I should never want to live here,” I said. “The best thing about it is the view.”

“Just sea right away to the horizon.”

“No, I mean on the other side. The coast and Menfreya,”

Gwennan smiled at me fondly. “I believe you love the old place as much as we do.”

We did not stay long on the island and went back to Menfreya; as we climbed the cliff garden, went through the porch which faced the sea and passed the stables and outhouses, one of the grooms came out.

“Mr. Bevil has just come home,” he said.

“So he has arrived has he,” smiled Gwennan; and she looked at me slyly.

I tried to make my face expressionless, but I don’t think I was very successful.

There followed some of the happiest days I had ever known. Bevil brought an atmosphere of gaiety into Menfreya.

Perhaps this was enhanced because I ceased to think about Gwennan. Bevil was constantly in OUT company; Harry Leveret rode over from Chough Towers every day, and the four of us took a morning ride. Lady Menfrey, who was in perpetual fear that her headstrong family would do something outrageous, consoled herself that we chaperoned each other. I became almost gay; on horseback I was happier than on my feet; there I felt an equal and, probably because of this, I was a good horsewoman. Everything seemed to be in my favor. Jessica Trelarken was miles away—somewhere in London, according to A’Lee. Harry was completely wrapped up in Gwennan, and she in her own complicated affairs. That left Bevil and myself.

We would ride ahead of the others; sometimes we lost them.

“I don’t think they’ll miss us,” said Bevil. I shall never forget walking our horses through the woods, with dappled shadows cast by the foliage; the feel of a horse beneath me always brings back that wild exhilaration. I discovered then that for me there would never be any other in my life to compare with Bevil. He seemed all that I had dreamed he was in my childhood when I had made of him a knight… my knight The birdsong; the soft breeze coming off the sea—that gentle southwest Cornish wind that is like a caress, soft and damp, and beautifying because it makes your skin glow; the sudden glimpse of the sea, midnight-blue, azure-blue, peacock-blue … pale almost to greenish-blue, aquamarine—all the blues in the celestial artist’s palette —and grays and greens and mother-of-pearl. But never, as I said to Bevil, so beautiful as when touched by the rosy glow of sunrise.

“Don’t tell me you wake early to see it?”

“I do. But the best view is from the island house; then you can look back at the land and Menfreya … Menfreya in the morning is the loveliest sight in the world. I saw it once …”

He laughed and his tawny eyes were on me—on my throat and my body and then they were looking into mine.

“I remember the occasion well. I found you cowering under a dust sheet and thought you were a tramp.”

“I had thought you were a ghost until I heard voices. You were not alone, remember.”

“Of course not I didn’t go to see the view. But one day I will. You will have to invite me, for the place is no longer ours; and I promise you I'll arrive early and we’ll look at Menfreya hi the morning… together.”

“I should like that”

He looked over his shoulder.

“It seems we have lost them again,” he said with a grin.

“I think Harry has taken some pains to get lost”

“And I confess I made no effort to prevent him.”

“You think it wise?”

“When you know me better, Harriet, which I hope you will, you will discover that I am not often wise,”

“You’re all very happy about Gwennan’s marriage, I believe?”

“It’s ideal. Harry’s a fine fellow; and they’ll live at Chough Towers. It couldn’t be better.”

“And he’s very rich.”

“There’s money in the duchy if you know where to find it Tin, china clay, the stone we built our houses with, and our seas chock full of fish. There are fortunes waiting for the energetic.”

“And the Menfreys are not energetic?”

“We never had to be. But believe me, being the Member for Lansella is no sinecure. You know that from your father’s day.”

“Do you enjoy the life?”

He turned to me. “I always wanted it It seemed wrong that Lansella should not be represented by a Menfrey. It always has been, and I believed when I was quite young that rd go into politics. I had all sorts of plans for reforms. I was young and idealistic. I could have told you all the important events as far back as Peel’s ministry, Russell’s, Derby’s, Aberdeen’s and Palmerston’s. I’ve followed Disraeli’s career and Gladstone’s … And, of course, Rosebery’s and Salisbury’s.”

“Yes, I have too.”

“You. But why you, Harriet?”

“Because I used to feel sometimes that if I could talk to my father about politics he might become interested in me. I really believed that it was possible at one time.”

He was looking at me intently. “Tell me, Harriet, don't you think the world of politics is a fascinating one?”

“The people are fascinating. I should love to have met Mr. Disraeli. His marriage must have been quite perfect He with his curls, flamboyance and brilliant wit; she in her feathers and diamonds. I have always heard that they were devoted to each other; and I think that is wonderful.”

“How romantic you are. I had no idea.”

“It was natural that she should be devoted to him because he was Prime Minister, favorite of the Queen, and everyone waited for what he would say next; but she was, so I heard, a rather ridiculous woman, years older than he was and not very intellectual. And he married her for her money. Fancy! Yet he said later, or perhaps someone else said it, that although he married her for her money, after years together he would have married her for love.”

“Marriages of convenience often turn out the best in the end. Theirs was a shining example. They have everything on their side.”

“Except love?” I suggested.

“Love is something that takes time to grow perhaps.”

“What of love at first sight?”

“That’s passion, my dear Harriet, a less hardy plant.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I believe only what is proved. I am a man of little faith, as you see,”

“Well, let us hope that one day you will be able to prove your theories.”

“I shall, Harriet, I've no doubt. It’s interesting, you know, your being the daughter of the late Member.”

“You find it so?”

He studied me, his eyes screwed up against the sunlight.

“You’ll have to help me during the next election.”

“I should enjoy it”

“A woman can be a great help—particularly the daughter of the late Member.”

“But you don’t need help down here. They’re only too eager that you should represent them.”

He leaned towards me and gripped my wrist “I shall need your help,” he said; and I flushed with pleasure.

I was so happy; I had to keep reminding myself that this was how he was with women. He knew exactly what to say to please them best.

He was smiling at me. ‘Tin glad,” he went on, “that yon are growing up now, Harriet. We must meet more frequently.

My chambers are not far from your. You must ask your stepmother to invite me.”

“I will”

We lightly touched our horses flanks and cantered across the open stretch of country which lay before us.

We had reached the moor and we tethered our horses for a while and sat on a stone wall. It was a glorious morning, with the sun shining on the long grass picking out the globules of moisture clinging to the blades—for there was a little mist up there—and making them glitter like crystals. The soft wind touched my skin and I was happy.

Then he returned to Jenny.

“You enjoy being part of that menage, Harriet?”

“It’s my home, I suppose.”

“I wonder she cares to stay on in that house.”

“She was planning to buy a house in the country, but she can’t touch the capital my father left her. Presumably she holds it in trust for me.”

“So that’s the way it is.”

“I don’t understand fully. All I know is that Greville, Baker and Greville told her she could not have the money for the house.”

“Then you, my dear Harriet, will be a considerable heiress, in certain circumstances.”

“I hope I shall never inherit, for that means she would have to die first I should hate that Do you know, I’ve grown quite fond of her.”

“Those sentiments do you credit, Harriet.”

“They do credit to my good sense. If I had inherited all my father’s fortune I should be a prey to those gentlemen who are looking for a marriage of convenience. I prefer my own modest fortune and comparative safety from attack.”

“Dear Harriet, your fortune, modest or otherwise, is not your only asset”

“You surprise me.”

“Do I? Then it is tit-for-tat. You surprise me with your conversation.”

“I suppose you previously thought I had none?”

“It is only recently that you have given me the opportunity to enjoy it.”

“It is only recently that you have sought that opportunity.” He laughed and, taking my hand, pressed it “Harriet,” he said, “promise that you will give me many more such opportunities, here and in London,”

He leaned towards me and kissed my cheek. Not passionately, as I imagined he kissed others, but gently, wonderingly. I thought: He is regarding me in a different light He is getting to know me, to like me. Or was he getting to know about my fortune and liking that?

But it was no great fortune, because Jenny was only a few years older than I, and I should not be likely to inherit for years, if ever.

The thought made me happy. It was not the fortune. It was myself.

Such happiness for one unaccustomed to it was almost too intoxicating.

When we mounted our horses, he said: “So your stepmother didn’t know how she stood?”

“She heard the will read; she saw the solicitor, but didn't take in the legal facts.”

“I should have thought something so vital to herself would have made some” impression-“

“I was present when the will was read, but I didn’t grasp it Actually my mind was wandering and I was thinking ...”

“What?”

“Oh, what a waste it was that my father and I had never been friends, and then never could be.”

“One of these days, Harriet, someone ought to make up to you for all you’ve missed.”

“That would be justice, but life isn’t always just, is it?”

“Perhaps we should see that it works out that way.”

What did he mean? Was it tantamount to a proposal?

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, after we had left the moors. “You are rather vague about your inheritance aren’t you? You could find out, you know.”

“I could go to Greville, Baker and Greville.”

“You needn’t do that. You could see a copy of the will in Somerset House. Would you like me to look into it for you when I’m in town?”

I felt a sudden quiver of alarm, but I said: “Yes, please, Bevil, do.”

“I will,” he said. “You leave it to me. Quite a cool wind blowing up.”

Was it that cool wind, I thought, which was making me feel a little cold?

Looking back after a tragedy, the preceding days seem to have taken on an unreality. One has been living with the obvious and yet failed to see what is under one’s nose.

Those were days of sunshine and preparations, and the wedding was coming nearer. Nine days … eight days … When I had been in Plymouth a few days before, Gwennan and I had gone to the theater and I had seen the company’s bills posted outside the building, with “Last Week” stamped across them.

Thank goodness, I thought. When they’re gone, Gwennan will settle down and forget all about them. In a short time when she had returned from her honeymoon and asked me down to stay with her as she had promised, we would laugh and christen it the Greasepaint Period.

She surprised me on the last day of the company’s stay in Plymouth by not going to say goodbye to them. I thought with relief: She has finished with them already.

My dress was ready and hanging hi my wardrobe. It was very pretty—in clinging lilac chiffon—and I was to wear a headdress of green leaves. The bridesmaids were to be in green with touches of mauve. The color was certainly going to be effective.

“Green’s unlucky, though,” said Fanny grimly. “I’m surprised at Miss Gwennan choosing green.”

“I’m not,” I said.

That day was like many another. I rode with Bevil, Harry and Gwennan in the morning. Gwennan was a little absent-minded, and I guessed her thoughts were with the departing company. I had no chance of being alone with Bevil, for the four of us were together all that morning.

During the rest of the day Gwennan seemed to avoid me, and I guessed she wanted to be alone to think seriously of her future.

There was a card party at the Leverets that evening. We played whist rather solemnly and left at ten o’clock. I thought Gwennan looked remote; I spoke to her once or twice, and she did not answer me. I guessed she was picturing the company packing their belongings and moving on to the next town. Another little episode over. Thank goodness, I thought, that there is no time for any more before the wedding.

I slept well, and hi the morning Fanny came in as usual to draw my curtains and bring my hot water.

“Another lovely day,” she said, “a bit misty, though. Pengelly says it’s a heat haze. It was really thick first thing this morning!”

I went to the window and looked out at the sea.

Another week or so and I should be back in London, and Aunt Clarissa would descend upon me for the purpose of bringing me out.

I did not want the time to pass. I wanted to catch each moment and imprison it.

We would ride that morning—Bevil, Gwennan and I— leaving the stables together and riding over to Chough Towers, where Harry would be waiting impatiently for us.

I went down to breakfast. Sir Endelion and Lady Menfrey were at the table and greeted me affectionately.

Lady Menfrey said that Bevil had already breakfasted, but Gwennan had not been down yet We talked about the weather and the wedding and afterwards I strolled out to the stables.

It was an hour or so later when I saw Bevil. He said, “Are we riding this morning?”

“I hope so.”

“Well, where’s.Gwennan?”

“I haven’t seen her,”

“I don’t think she’s up yet Go up to her room and tell her to hurry.”

I went into the house and seeing Dinah said: “Miss Gwennan is late this morning.”

“She said she would ring when she wanted me.”

“When did she say that?”

“Last night”

“So you haven’t been up yet?” My voice had risen to a high pitch as it did when I was apprehensive.

“No, Miss, seeing as she told me not”

As I took the stairs two at a time, I kept seeing her face as it had been yesterday … resigned. She had run away. I knew it before I opened the door and saw the unslept-in bed, the envelopes propped on the dressing table. Trust Gwennan to do it in the melodramatic way.

I went to the dressing table. There were three letters. One for her parents, one for Harry, and one for me.

My fingers were shaking as I slit the envelope addressed to me and read:

“Dear Harriet, I’ve done it It was the only way. I just could not stay. I’ve gone with Benedict. We’re going to be married and I might go on the stage with him. Do try to make them understand. Particularly Harry. I couldn’t help it It was one of those things that had to be. This is different from anything else that ever happened to me. Harriet, we shall always be friends, no matter what happens. Don’t forget and try to make them understand. Gwennan.”

I felt too numb to move. I heard the sound of laughter from the kitchen. I heard Bevil shouting to one of the grooms. All around me for a few more minutes life was going on as usual, but soon that would be changed.

I picked up the other two letters and ran from the room.

“Bevil,” I called, as I ran out of the house into the sunshine. “Quickly. Come here.”

He came running. “What on earth …”

I held up the letters. “She’s gone, Bevil, There’s one for me. She’s run away with Benedict Bellairs.”

“What? Who?”

I had forgotten, of course. There was no one in this house but myself—and possibly Dinah—who knew of the existence of this man.

“Gwennan has run away with an actor.”

He snatched my letter from me and read it.

“She’s going to marry … But what of Harry? What does it mean?”

I just stared at him, and I saw the realization spread across his face and amazement fade to anger. “You knew of this,” he accused me.

I nodded.

“Then why didn’t you say? You’ve let her do this. Well have to get her back.”

He strode into the house, and as, hurt and guilty, I followed him, I heard him shouting to his father.

Sir Endelion, followed by Lady Menfrey, appeared at the foot of the stairs.

“Gwennan’s run away with an actor,” cried Bevil.

“What?”

Bevil turned to me. “Harriet will tell you. She knows all about it”

”Harriet” It was a piteous cry from Lady Menfrey.

“I didn’t know she was going to run away,” I said.

“But the wedding …” began Lady Menfrey piteously.

“I’ll bring her back,” declared Bevil. “I’d better get going right away. What is the name of this man? Here ... open your letter.”

“Letter?” said Sir End el ion.

“Oh yes,” said Bevil furiously. “She did it in style … leaving envelopes for the family … and Harriet.”

I was stung because he was turning the anger he felt against Gwennan on me.

Sir Endelion said in a shaking voice, and I realized that I had never seen him so distraught: “I’m afraid I haven’t got my spectacles.”

Bevil took the envelope from him and read the note aloud. The contents were much the same as in mine. She loved Benedict Bellairs; she was running away with him because she could not go through with her marriage to Harry. She hoped they would forgive her and understand.

“Understand!” cried Bevil. “Yes, we understand that she is a selfish little fool. Forgive her! Wait till we get her back.”

I said: “It is, of course, a terrible thing to marry for love rather than for mercenary reasons.”

Bevil stared at me almost contemptuously, while Lady Menfrey moaned: “This is terrible … terrible …”

“Listen,” cut in Bevil curtly. “I’m going to Plymouth alone. Until I return, keep this dark. I’ll bring her back, and the affair need go no further. Keep it from the servants.”

“You won’t find the company at Plymouth,” I told him. They left yesterday.”

“What is the name of the company?”

I told Mm.

“I'll find where they’ve gone and I'll bring her back with me,” he said grimly.

“She won’t come.”

“We shall see about that”

He left for Plymouth, and I went with Sir Endelion and Lady Menfrey.to the library. They kept asking me questions. What did I know? What was this man like? They were reproachful. I had aided Gwennan in this deceit.

I felt wretched because of their disappointment in me, but most of all because of Bevil’s contempt. I had never seen him angry before, but I realized that he could be very angry indeed.

I told them about her visits to the theater; there was no point in holding anything back now.

“So you went with her when you were supposed to be visiting the dressmaker?”

I demanded angrily how they could have thought we need spend so much time with the dressmaker.

“Dinah should have warned us,” said Lady Menfrey.

“You know Gwennan. She forbade Dinah to.”

“Yes,” sighed Lady Menfrey. “We know Gwennan.”

Sir Endelion was surprisingly subdued, and I guessed he was thinking of the scandal in which he had been involved and which had resulted in his having to give up his seat in Parliament.

“And you, Harriet?”

“How could I tell tales about Gwennan?” I protested.

“But you see what has happened. When Bevil brings her back…”

“She won’t come.”

“He’ll make her. Bevil will get his way.”

“So will Gwennan.”

Lady Menfrey sighed, and I guessed that many times in her life she had been confronted by the wild, intractable natures of her family.

Harry Leveret came over because he wondered why Gwennan, Bevil and I had not ridden over to the Towers.

He had to be given the letter which Gwennan had written to him; even now I don’t like to think of his face as he read her words.

He was stricken. Poor Harry! He had loved Gwennan clearly.

That day was like a bad dream. Bevil came home alone, pale and angry. He had discovered that the company had moved to Paignton, whither he had been, and when he had unearthed them he had learned that Benedict Bellairs had left the company, his destination unknown.

There was nothing else to be done … just yet.

The Leverets had come over and Mrs. Leveret sat crying. I couldn’t bear to look at Harry, and every now and then one of them would fire questions at me. I couldn’t tell them any more than that I had been to the theater and that Gwennan had been friendly with an actor named Benedict Bellairs. I had to repeat it over and over again until I wanted to scream at them to let me go.