Seven for a Secret

The St. Aubyn’s Ball

So we were growing up. Two years had passed. I should be sixteen in May of the coming year.

Aunt Sophie said: “I reckon in a year or so you’ll have grown out of school. I’m wondering what we’ll do with you then. You’ll have to get out and about a bit. When I was that age, there was a lot of talk about ” coming out”. There’ll be parties and that sort of thing for Tamarisk, I expect. As for Rachel, I don’t know. Perhaps her aunt has ideas for her. I’ll have a talk with her some time.”

I loved coming home for the holidays. Aunt Sophie was always at the station to meet me. There was no one to meet Tamarisk or Rachel, and Aunt Sophie had to be the universal guardian, as she had been since we started school. This was cheerfully accepted by Tamarisk and Rachel; and I felt very proud and gratified because she was my aunt.

When Tamarisk and Rachel had been delivered to their respective homes, I would go to The Rowans and there would be tea or lunch whatever the time and I would talk about school life, to which Aunt Sophie listened avidly; and Lily used to come in to hear it. It amazed me how funny events seemed to become when told in this way far more than they had been at the time.

Lily said: “I reckon you have a rare old time at that school.”

One day there was a fresh piece of news.

Aunt Sophie said: “By the way, there’s a rumour only a rumour, mind that there might be wedding bells up at St. Aubyn’s.”

“Oh? Tamarisk didn’t say anything about it.”

“Well, you’ve just come home, haven’t you? It’s only blown up in the last month or so. It’s a Lady Fiona Char ring ton an earl’s daughter, no less. So very right to St. Aubyn’s. Even Mrs. St. Aubyn is bestirring herself. Well it’s about time Crispin was settled after that first disaster.

“Do you mean he is going to marry this Lady Fion Charrington? “

“Nothing official. She came down to stay at St. Aubyn’ with her mama, and I believe he has visited the ancestra home. So it looks hopeful. Nothing definite, so far as know, though. Perhaps he’s a little wary after the first. “Because he was married before, you mean?”

That was supposed to be a disaster. Makes a man cautious, I expect. I shouldn’t think he was the easiest per sol in the world to live with either. She left him and before she could enjoy the life she had chosen she was killed ii that railway accident. “

“Have you seen this Lady Fiona?”

“Oh yes, once. She was out riding with him. I wasn't exactly introduced. Just ” Nice morning” and ” Good day’ en passant. She sits her horse well. She’s not a beauty, bu ancient lineage would make up for that. “

“Tamarisk will know all about it,” I said.

“The whole neighbourhood’s agog.”

“How interested they are in other people’s affairs.”

“Bless them. So little happens to them. They have to go a bit of excitement through others.”

After that I kept thinking about Crispin and the way ii which he had carried me away from that horrific scene. had taken a special interest in him after that . welt before that, when he had made the unfortunate remark which had wounded my childish ego so bitterly.

I should have liked to ask Tamarisk about him, but I never did One had to be so careful with Tamarisk.

One of my first visits when I arrived home was to go t( see Flora Lane in the House of the Seven Magpies, as I romantically called the cottage to myself.

I fancied Lucy would rather I did not visit the house, but Flora liked me to, so I chose the times when I guessed Lucy would be out shopping and I could go in to see Flora and slip out without Lucy’s knowing I had been.

On this occasion Flora was sitting in the garden close to the mulberry bush, the pram with the doll beside her. When she saw me her face lit up with pleasure. She always behaved as though I had never been away.

“I was expecting you,” she said.

“Oh, were you? I only came home from school yesterday.”

She looked vague and I went on: Tell me what has been happening while I’ve been away. “

“He’s had the croup. In a real state he was. Pretty bad. I thought at one time I might lose him. It frightens the life out of you when they start that cough.”

“He’s all right now?”

“Right as a trivet. I got him over that. Mind you, it was touch and go. But he’s a little fighter. Nothing’s going to get the better of him!”

“I’m glad he’s all right now.”

She nodded and rambled on, describing the symptoms of the croup.

Suddenly she said: “I’m going to take him up now. There’s a touch of damp in the air.”

She wheeled the pram to the back door of the cottage. I could not resist the temptation to follow her. I wanted to see those magpies again. Had I fancied there was something evil about them? Probably. It would be just like me to do so.

Tenderly she carried the doll up the stairs, with me in her wake. She sat in a chair, holding it, and there was an expression of great tenderness on her face.

I went close to the picture of the magpies.

“One for sorrow …” I began.

“Two for joy,” she said.

“Go on, say it.”

I did. She was before me with the last line.

“Seven for a secret…” She shook her head.

“Never to be told.” She looked very solemn and held the doll more closely to her.

There was an un canniness about the scene. The words meant something very special to her. What secret? I wondered Her mind was wandering, of course. Anyone who thought a doll was a baby could not be expected to have coherent thoughts.

I was alert suddenly. Someone was downstairs. I said:

“Your sister must have come back.”

She did not answer but continued to look at the doll.

There were footsteps on the stairs heavy ones, not Lucy’s, surely.

A voice called: “Lucy! Where are you?”

It was Crispin. The door opened and he stood there, looking from me to Flora. His eyes went to the picture of the magpies.

Then it happened. Flora stood up abruptly. The doll fell from her arms and crashed to the floor. For a few seconds we all stared at the broken china face. Then Flora let out a wail of anguish. She knelt by the doll and clasped her hands across her breast.

“No … no!” she cried.

“It’s not. It’s not. I didn’t. It’s a secret . never to be told.”

Crispin went to her, pulled her to her feet. She kept sobbing: “I didn’t mean … I didn’t. I didn’t.”

He lifted her as effortlessly as he had once lifted me and carried her to her bedroom where he laid her on the bed. He jerked his head to me, implying that I was to pick up the broken doll and take it away. I obeyed and ran downstairs with the doll in my arms il I put it on the kitchen table and went back to Flora’s room.

Flora was lying on the bed, sobbing. Crispin was not there but came in almost immediately, stirring something in a glass.

He gave it to Flora who meekly drank it.

“This will be better now,” he said, more to me than to her.

I thought how strange it was that he managed to find whatever it was that must be used to calm her when she was upset.

He said to me in a quiet voice: “It’s all right. She’ll calm down now.

She will be asleep soon,” and I was struck afresh by his knowledge of how to treat her.

We stood by the bed watching her. In less than five minutes she had stopped moaning.

“She doesn’t remember much now. We’ll wait awhile.”

How strange it was to be here in this cottage with Flora lying on the bed and Crispin beside me. He must know the cottage well and its inmates. He must have gone straight to the place where Lucy kept the medicine her sister must need from time to time. He behaved as though he were master of the place. But then he was like that everywhere.

It was not very long before Flora slept.

Crispin looked at me, indicating that I should follow him downstairs.

In the kitchen he said: “What were you doing here?”

“I came to see Flora. I often do. She went upstairs and I went with her.”

“Miss Lucy was not here.”

“No. I expect she was shopping.”

He nodded.

“What we have to do now is get rid of that.” He indicated the broken doll which was lying on the table.

“It must be replaced at once. I am going into the town to buy one as like it as I can find.

She will not awake until this evening. It must be there then. She must find a new one lying in the cot. “

“But she will know …”

“She will be told that she had a bad dream. Miss Lucy will know how to deal with that. But there must be another doll in the same clothes. There is a toyshop . not ir Harper’s Green . we’ll have to go farther than that. shall write a note to Miss Lucy telling her what has happened and that we should be back in just over an hour. “

“We… ?” I began.

“I want you to come with me to help choose the doll We’ll take the broken one with us and you will be able to choose it more easily than I could.”

“I shall have to tell my aunt. She will be worried.”

He looked at me thoughtfully.

“I shall go back and go the dogcart. You go at once to your aunt. Tell her what has happened and that you are coming with me to choose the doll. You have seen the doll many times.

I have never noticed it much, so I need your help. “

I was excited. It was an adventure. I said: “Yes. Yes.”

“Take the doll and I shall be with you very soon.”

I ran home. Fortunately Aunt Sophie was in. Breathlessly I gave her an account of what had happened.

She looked puzzled.

“I never heard the like! What’s go into him?

Smashed her doll. Good Heavens! It will kill her. “

“He’s afraid for her.”

“Dear me. What a to-do.”

“I want to go with him. I couldn’t bear anything to hap pen to Flora.”

“Yes. You’ve got to get that doll replaced and quid about it. It’s the sensible thing to do as he suggests.”

Before I had finished telling Aunt Sophie, he was then with the dogcart. I dashed out carrying the doll and climbed up beside him.

There were two horses and they travelled fast. I sat up it front with him. It was exhilarating . riding at breaknect speed to save someone’s life, I thought. This was the second rescue in which we were involved together, and the man ne in which he took command impressed me deeply.

He did not say much as we drove along and in about thirty minutes we were in the town. He drove into an inn yard where they seemed to know him and were very respectful.

He helped me down and we went off to the shop.

He laid the remains of Flora’s doll on the counter and announced: “We want a doll. It must resemble this one.”

“This kind has not been made for several years, sir.”

“Well, the nearest. You must have something near.”

We looked at dolls. He deferred to me, which gave me a sense of pride.

“It should not look like a girl,” I said.

“The broken one had its hair cut off. And these clothes have to fit.”

It took us some time to find something which was sufficiently similar to the broken doll to be passed off as the same one; and even then I was unsure.

We put the clothes on the new doll and came out of the shop.

“We must get back at once,” he said; and so began the journey home.

“The hair is the right colour,” I said, ‘but we shall have to trim it.

This one looks too much like a girl. “

“You can do that, or Miss Lucy will.”

I wanted to do it. I wanted to remain in this adventure as long as I could. As we reached the cottage Lucy came out. She looked very worried.

“It’s all right,” said Crispin.

“We have found a replacement.” He patted her arm.

“It will work,” he went on, ‘as long as the doll is there when she wakes and she doesn’t notice the difference. “

“I’ll put it in the cot,” said Lucy.

They let me cut the hair and when this was done the new one did not look too dissimilar.

Lucy took it and went upstairs. Crispin and I were alone in the kitchen. He was looking at me intently and I wondered if he was still thinking that I was plain.

He said: “You were a great help.” I glowed with pride.

“Miss Flora is very sick in the mind,” he went on.

“We must be very gentle with her.

That doll to her is a baby. “

“Yes, I know. She thinks it is you when you were a baby.”

His face creased into a smile. Anyone less like a doll I could not imagine.

“She will have to be carefully treated after this. Let’s hope she doesn’t remember what happened. It would disturb her very much.”

Lucy came down.

“She is sleeping peacefully,” she said.

“I shall keep my eye on her. I must be there when she wakes.”

“That’s right,” he said, and smiled at her in a manner which I could only call tender. It surprised me very much, for I had never seen him look quite like that before. I was continually being surprised by him.

He is very fond of her, I thought. But then, of course, she had been his nanny after Flora became ill.

Now he was looking at me.

“I dare say your aunt is expecting you home by now,” he said.

“Yes, she will be,” I said reluctantly.

“Well, goodbye, and thank you for all you have done.”

It was a kind of dismissal, but I was glowing with pleasure as I ran home.

I could not resist going to the House of the Seven Magpies. It was two days later. Flora was sitting in her usual place in the garden, the doll’s pram beside her. I called over the wall and she welcomed me with a smile.

“How is … he … this afternoon?” I asked tentatively.

“Sleeping nicely. The little monkey woke me up at five this morning. There he was, gurgling and chuckling to himself … once he’d wakened me, of course.”

I went over and looked down at the doll. The clothes and cutting of the hair had helped a good deal, but I was surprised she did not appear to have noticed the difference.

“He looks as well as ever,” I said cautiously.

A shadow came over her face.

“There was a nightmare,” she said, her lips beginning to tremble.

“A nightmare,” I said.

“Then don’t talk of that. They are best forgotten.”

“It’s all right.” She looked at me appealingly.

“I didn’t, did I? I held him tight, didn’t I? I couldn’t have let my baby come to any harm . not for the world.”

“No, of course not, and he is perfectly all right. You only have to look at him …” I stopped myself. That was not the right thing to say.

She was staring at the mulberry bush.

“It was a night mare, wasn’t it?” she said appealingly.

“That was all.”

“Of course it was,” I reassured her.

“We all have night mares at some times, you know.”

I was thinking of those awful moments in the wood before Crispin came . and after.

“You too?” she said.

“But you weren’t there.”

I wondered what she meant. I had been there when she dropped the doll; but I thought it best to agree with her.

I said: “It’s all right. Just look at him. There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“No,” she murmured.

“Nothing wrong. He’s here … he’s been here all the time.”

She closed her eyes. Then she opened them very wide and said: “It’s when I look at him … I see him … his little body …”

Her thoughts were jumbled and clearly dropping the doll had unnerved her.

I just said: “Well, everything is all right now.”

She smiled and nodded.

I talked to her for a while until I thought it was time for Lucy’s return. Then I said goodbye and that I would come again soon.

As I came out of the cottage I saw Crispin St. Aubyn. I had not gone far when he was beside me.

“So you have been to the cottage,” he said.

“I think our little subterfuge worked.”

“I don’t think she has completely forgotten.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She seems disturbed.”

“How?” he asked sharply.

“I’m not sure. It was the way she talked.”

“What did she say?”

“Something about his not being there but here.”

“Her mind’s unhinged. You can’t take what she says seriously.”

“No. But there seems to be a pattern to it.”

“What do you mean? A pattern?”

“I mean that what she says one day seems to be linked with what she may say the next.”

“You seem to be a very discerning young lady.”

Young lady! I liked that. Not just the child any more. I felt he would have more respect for a young lady than he would have for a mere child.

“Well, I often go to the House of the Seven Magpies.”

“Where?”

“I mean the Lanes’ house.”

“Why did you call it that?”

“There’s a picture in the nursery …”

“So you named the house after the picture?”

“I think it has a special meaning for Flora.”

“What did you call it?”

“The Seven Magpies. You have been up there in that room. You must have seen it. It’s seven magpies sitting on a wall.”

“What is so special about it?”

“The rhyme. Flora said it came from a book and Lucy cut the picture out and framed it for her. You may know the rhyme about the magpies.

“One for sorrow, two for joy ” and all that. And seven are for a secret which must never be told. Flora knows it. She has said it to me more than once. “

He was silent for a moment. Then in a cool voice he said: “And you think there is something significant about that?”

“Yes, I do. It was the way Flora looked when she told me.”

“Is that why you are so interested?”

“I suppose it is … partly. I am very sorry for Flora. I think there is something worrying her.”

“And you want to find out what it is?”

“I like discovering things.”

“Yes, I see you do. Sometimes though …” He stopped and, as I was obviously waiting for him to go on, he added, “Sometimes it can get you into trouble.”

I was surprised.

“I can’t see …”

“One often does not see trouble coming until it has caught up with one.”

“Is that true or just what people say to the inquisitive?”

“I dare say that in certain circumstances it could be true.”

We had reached The Rowans.

“Goodbye,” he said.

I went in, thinking about him. I hoped all through that holiday that I would see him again and that he might seek me out to talk to me. But he did not. Tamarisk told me that he had gone abroad. I could not help wondering whether Lady Fiona had gone, too.

Soon after that, we went back to school. Our last term had begun. I wondered now and then what was going to happen when we finished. I had been seventeen last May. That was quite a marriageable age. Tamarisk said. She thought there would be a lot of entertaining at St. Aubyn’s and it would all be for the purpose of launching her. Rachel was a little unsure.

There was a certain amount of entertaining at the Bell House now. It had completely changed. In fact, I said to Aunt Sophie, I believed Mrs. Dorian was trying to make everything as different as possible so that she could forget her husband.

Aunt Sophie agreed with that.

Harper’s Green was astounded by the wedding. It was not that of Crispin and Lady Fiona. That had been expected and had not happened.

It was Mrs. Dorian who took a new husband.

This was Archie Grindle - a widower of about fifty who had farmed in the district for many years. He had now given up his farm to his two sons, and was to live in the Bell House with his new wife.

He had a rotund figure, a red face and a booming laugh. He was as different from Mr. Dorian as Rachel’s Aunt Hilda now Mrs. Grindle was from her old self. There was only the stable which was the same and nobody liked to enter it because of grim reminders.

Aunt Hilda continued to wear bright colours and a comb in her hair; she laughed a great deal. And Rachel liked Archie, so that everything was a complete contrast to what it had been before.

But to me the spirit of Mr. Dorian lingered and I wondered what he would think if he knew what was happening in his old home. I should never forget him because I had played a big part in his tragedy.

Aunt Sophie was very amused and glad, for, as she said, Hilda deserved a bit of life after all she had gone through; and now she was taking it with both hands.

The wedding had caused a great deal of stir in the neighbourhood.

“One wedding sparks off another,” prophesied Lily.

But there was still no news of an engagement between Crispin and Lady Fiona.

Schooldays were over and that provided a problem for our respective guardians. Mrs. St. Aubyn did not care to disturb herself greatly in order to launch her daughter into society; Rachel’s aunt had no idea how to; and Aunt Sophie, who had owing to her own youthful experience at Cedar Hall, lacked the means.

Aunt Sophie called a meeting. They must do what circumstances permitted.

While this was going on, I did see Crispin now and then. He noticed me and smiled in a manner which I convinced myself was conspiratorial.

After all, we had had our dramatic encounter, though that was never mentioned, and we had also worked together over the new doll.

I still visited Flora Lane. Lucy was never very welcoming, so I timed my visits to avoid her, reminding myself that it was Flora whom I went to see and she was always glad I came.

At length it was decided that there should be a ball. Aunt Sophie would help to organize it. It would have to be held at St. Aubyn’s, that being the only suitable place and there was actually a ballroom in the house.

Mrs. St. Aubyn was quite interested then. It was like the old days of what Aunt Sophie called “Riotous Living’. We were all excited about it. I guessed Crispin would be there. He would have to be for his sister’s ball although it was really for the three of us.

Lady Fiona’s name had not been mentioned for some time and I believe was forgotten in the neighbourhood. The marriage of Rachel’s aunt and Archie Grindle was the nine days’ wonder at that time.

I was quite often at the Bell House now. It had become a friendly, delightful place. There was only the grim stable to remind me. I believed the others did not think about that as much as I did. The stables were never used because there were no horses at Bell House. Once I went inside, I let the door shut behind me and I stood for some seconds looking up at the rafters. It was horrible. He seemed to materialize. His body was limp . but his eyes looked at me with the same frightening look which had terrified me when I was lying helpless on the ground in Barrow Wood.

I turned and ran out. It was silly. He couldn’t hurt me now. He was dead. He had killed himself because he had been discovered and he could not face living with that.

Shivering, I ran home to The Rowans, promising myself I would never enter that place again. The episode was over, to be forgotten, if that were possible. Crispin had rescued me and we had become friends . of a kind. It was, of course, the affair of Flora’s doll which had done that. But I imagined that he did not dislike me.

Tamarisk had once said that people liked those for whom they had done good turns because every time they looked at them they thought how good they themselves were. Well, he had saved me from something terrible, so perhaps Tamarisk was right and when he saw me he remembered what he had done for me.

There was little talk of anything now between us girls other than the ball. Aunt Sophie took us into Salisbury to buy material for our dresses. I chose a bluish mauve. Tamarisk flame red, and Rachel a cornflower blue. Aunt Sophie was a little wistful, thinking no doubt of the court dressmaker who would have made her gown for her coming-out ball. I had heard all about such things from my mother. The village dressmaker, Mary Tucker, would be entrusted with ours.

“She’ll do a good competent job,” said Aunt Sophie.

“How I wish …”

I was more and more at the Bell House. Archie Grindle was very jolly and there was no doubt of Aunt Hilda’s happiness. She went about the house singing and revelled in the pretty dresses she now possessed. I never ceased to marvel at the change.

Daniel Grindle was frequently there. He was Archie’s eldest son who had taken over the farm with his brother Jack.

Daniel was tall and rather awkward, never seeming to know where to put his hands. I liked him. I called him the Gentle Giant, for he was tall and broad; he spoke little and his father told us that he had a way with animals such as he had never seen in any other living person.

“My grandfather had it,” said Jack Grindle.

“Clan takes after him.”

Jack was shorter and inclined to be fat like his father; and like him too, had plenty to say for himself. They both gave the impression of enjoying life.

It was Jack Grindle who was responsible for the introduction of Gaston Marchmont into our circle.

Gaston Marchmont made a great stir and both Tamarisk and Rachel were constantly talking of him. He was tall, slender willowy almost and very good-looking in, as Tamarisk said, a worldly way. His hair was dark, almost black, and his eyes dark brown. He was elegant in the extreme.

Jack had met him on the Continent; they had travelled across the Channel together and, because Gaston Marchmont was going to put up at an hotel for a little while, Jack suggested that he come and stay at Grindle’s Farm for a few days.

Jack seemed to think it was a great condescension on Gaston’s part to do this. Not that Gaston implied it. Far from it. He was all gracious charm. But I could see why the Grindles who were humble folk, though quite affluent and prosperous allowed themselves to think such a grand personage as Gaston Marchmont was doing them an honour by staying with them.

Jack lost no time in introducing this fascinating gentleman into local society. We learned that Gaston’s mother had been French hence the name Gaston. He had been settling his affairs in France and was now concerned with the estate he had inherited through his father in Scotland, for his father had died recently.

His mode of dress revealed good taste and natural elegance. His suits were cut according to Savile Row, Tamarisk told me, and in his riding gear he looked godlike; he was charm personified. Mrs. St. Aubyn immediately became very fond of him. She flirted gaily with him and he responded gallantly. He was constantly saying that he would have to go to Scotland, but everyone including Jack Grindle was urging him to stay a little longer.

“You tempt me,” he said, ‘and I am so weak. “

Tamarisk said he must stay on for the ball, or she would never forgive him.

“My dear young lady,” he replied, “I cannot refuse the appeal of those beautiful eyes. Just till the ball, then.”

She and Rachel went on talking continuously about Gaston. I did not.

I was a little piqued, I think, because, though he did not exactly ignore me, few of his compliments came my way. He did include me when he talked of us as The Three Graces, but that was just politeness; and I noticed that his eyes were rarely on me and that Tamarisk and Rachel received most of his smiles.

He was, of course, an extremely attractive man. Crispin seemed dour beside him and the Grindle young men country bumpkins. That was unfair. The Grindle young men were very pleasant indeed and I thought the gentle, kindly smile of Daniel was more agreeable than the charm , of Gaston Marchmont.

Mary Tucker worked on our dresses in the St. Aubyn’s sewing-room and one day, when we went for a fitting, and they were as usual talking about Gaston Marchmont, I said: “I don’t think he means half what he says.”

“He does mean some of it,” retorted Tamarisk.

“You’re only jealous because he doesn’t take much notice of you.”

I pondered that. Was I?

Rachel was the first of us to have a real admirer. It was Daniel Grindle. Rachel was very pretty in a rather helpless, feminine way, and Daniel was the sort of man, I decided, who would want to protect people.

I noticed the dreamy look in Daniel’s eyes when he watched Rachel. So did Tamarisk. She could not understand why any young man could look at someone else when she was there. It was a tender look. I had seen him look like that on one occasion when I went to the farm and he was holding a new-born lamb in his arms.

“Well!” said Tamarisk.

“He’s only a farmer.”

“There is nothing wrong with that,” Rachel defended him fiercely.

“And he’s a good one. Aunt Hilda is very pleased that she married his father.”

“Do you like him?” Tamarisk demanded of her.

“He’s all right,” said Rachel.

“Would you marry him?”

“What a question!” cried Rachel.

“You would! You would! Well, he might be all right for you.”

Rachel did not answer. She was too embarrassed.

I guessed Tamarisk was comparing Daniel with Gaston Marchmont.

She went on to talk about him. She was so glad he was staying for the ball.

“I told him I’d never forgive him if he didn’t stay, and he said, ” You leave me no alternative. ” Wasn’t that nice?”

“He does say the nicest things,” admitted Rachel.

“He’s a wonderful rider,” went on Tamarisk.

“On a horse he looks absolutely part of it … like one of those old gods.”

“He looks like a cross between a highwayman and a cavalier,” I said.

“I could just imagine him saying, ” Stand in and deliver! ” or riding into battle against Cromwell.”

“I always hated Cromwell,” said Tamarisk.

“Horrid old spoilsport. Closing theatres and things . I hate spoilsports. “

“I don’t think you could call Gaston Marchmont one of those by any stretch of the imagination,” I said.

“I should think not!” said Tamarisk, smiling secretly.

She went on talking of him. He was an aristocrat, there was no doubt of that.

Rachel smiled dreamily, and I said: “Since he’s so wonderful, I wonder he bothers to stay here.”

“Perhaps,” said Tamarisk mysteriously, ‘he has his reasons. “

It was only a few days before the ball. Our dresses were made.

Tamarisk told me that plants would be brought in from the greenhouses to decorate the ballroom and there would be a supper laid out in the dining-room- a buffet from which guests could help themselves. An orchestra had been engaged. Her mother was taking a little walk in the gardens every day so that she would be strong enough to attend the ball. She had had a special dress made for the occasion; the invitations had all gone out. It was the first time there had been a ball since Crispin’s wife had died.

“Everything will be different now,” Tamarisk declared.

“I’m of age.

Even Crispin will have to realize that. “

I went to see Flora. I sat in the garden near the mulberry bush and talked to her about the ball. I did not think she followed what I was talking about but she liked to hear my voice. Every now and then she would break in with a comment such as, “He was a bit restless last night. I think that tooth is troubling him.” But it made no difference. I just went on talking and she sat there smiling and seemed really pleased that I was there.

When I left her I met Crispin. I think he was on his way to call at the cottage as I knew he did from time to time, for if there was anything wrong it was always attended to with the utmost promptness.

I cherished the memory of how concerned he had been when Flora broke the doll. I liked to think he cared so much for his old nannies.

“Hello,” he said.

“I can guess where you’ve been.”

“She seems to like me to go.”

“When Miss Lucy is not there?”

I flushed a little.

“Well,” I repeated, defending myself, “Flora seems to like me to go.”

“Does she confide in you at all?”

“Confide? No, not really.”

“You mean she does in a way?”

“Well, she talks most of the time about the doll as though it’s a real baby.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“You don’t seem sure.”

“Well, she does say odd things at times.”

“What sort of things?”

“I think perhaps about the mulberry bush. She keeps saying something isn’t there.”

“Isn’t there?”

“Yes. She keeps looking at it. I’d say she was a little worried about something there.”

“I see. Well, it is good of you to call on her, being pre occupied as they all seem to be about the ball.”

“Everyone is looking forward to it.”

“Including you?”

I nodded.

“I think it will be fun.”

“And I hear the dashing hero has promised to attend.”

“You mean … ?”

“You know whom I mean. Is that going to make it especially agreeable for you?”

“I think people are pleased that he is coming.”

“People? Does that include you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I see. Well, I must not keep you.”

He smiled at me, lifted his hat and bowed slightly.

Then he went on to call on the Lanes.

It was the day before the ball. I went over to the Bell House to see Rachel.

She looked different. There was a certain radiance about her. I thought she was about to confide in me, but she appeared to hesitate.

I was reminded of that other occasion when she had been so scared and had turned to me. She was very different from Tamarisk; she was withdrawn, diffident, keeping her secrets.

I had another look at her dress. I had looked at my own fifty times.

“You’ll wear it away looking at it,” Lily had commented wryly.

“Take it from me, love. You’ll look a treat in it.”

I was apprehensive. Would anyone want to dance with me? We had practised our steps again and again and we were quite proficient now; but what worried me was partners. Tamarisk would have plenty, not only because of her charm and good looks, but because the ball was taking place in her home and her mother was the hostess, in spite of all that Aunt Sophie had done to make it possible; people would feel it a duty to dance with Tamarisk. And Rachel would be all right. That helpless fragility had its appeal. But myself ? Perhaps Jack Grindle would ask me, or Daniel. Crispin? I could not imagine what his dancing would be like.

Suddenly Rachel said: “Daniel has asked me to marry him.”

I stared at her in amazement. The thought immediately came into my mind: she is the first of us to receive a proposal of marriage. Tamarisk wouldn’t like that. She’d think she ought to be the first.

“How exciting!” I cried.

“I don’t know. It’s difficult.”

“He is very nice and kind. You’d get on well with him. Have you said yes?”

She shook her head.

“Why? Don’t you like him?”

“Yes, I do. Very much. We’ve always been friends, even before his father married my aunt, but of course we’ve seen a lot of each other since. A little while ago …” She stopped and frowned.

“I … er … I do like him very much,” she finished.

“I know,” I said.

“It’s too soon. We’ve only just left school. Of course, some people marry when they are very young. And you have known each other for a long time.”

“Yes, but it’s different…”

“What have you said?”

“I hated telling him I couldn’t. He looked … well, you know, so nice. He’s always been kind to me. I felt safe with him … after ..”

I knew exactly what she meant. I thought of her in that bedroom, hearing footsteps coming . pausing outside the door most fortunately locked the second time hearing his heavy breathing outside. She wanted to feel safe after that as I did after those terrifying moments in the wood.

“You see,” went on Rachel, ‘he thought it was all right. We’d been such friends. “

“It will be all right. It’s just because it’s too soon. You’re not ready yet.”

She was staring into space.

“I don’t think I ever can now …”

“But you like him a lot.”

“Yes … I do … but…”

“You just need time,” I said, thinking that was just the remark Aunt Sophie would have made.

“Wait till Tamarisk hears!”

“I shan’t tell her. Please don’t say anything about it, Freddie.”

“Of course not. But I should love to see her face. She likes to be the first in everything.”

I was smiling. I was convinced that Rachel would marry Daniel. It would be so right, married to Aunt Hilda’s stepson. I was sure she would be as happy as Aunt Hilda was. It would be a wonderful ending after all they had suffered in a Bell House dominated by Mr. Dorian.

The ballroom at St. Aubyn’s looked splendid. Potted palms and flowering shrubs had been brought in from the greenhouses and scattered around in artistic fashion; the floor had been polished with French chalk; there was a dais at one end and on this were the musicians in pale pink shirts and black dinner jackets. It was all very grand and awesome.

Mrs. St. Aubyn, miraculously restored to health for the occasion, greeted the guests. There was only one concession to her previous state: she sat regally in an ornate chair which people approached with great deference.

Aunts Sophie and Hilda hovered round her as though to remind people that their protegees were of equal importance to Tamarisk; but of course this was St. Aubyn’s Park and Mrs. St. Aubyn was seen as the main hostess. The ball was one in which Rachel and I had been privileged to join.

Rachel and I sat on either side of Tamarisk; and Aunt Sophie was beside me. Aunt Hilda beside Rachel. I felt much less confident than I had in my bedroom when both Aunt Sophie and Lily had declared that I looked quite beautiful.

“The belle of the ball, that’s what you’ll be,” Aunt Sophie had said.

And Lily commented: “Well, Miss Fred, I never thought a dress could do all that for a girl. You look a real treat, you do.”

However, beside Tamarisk, flamboyant in flame-coloured chiffon, and Rachel in cornflower-blue crepe-de- Chine, I realized that I was far from being the Belle of the Ball, and what looked ‘a treat’ in my bedroom might look less delectable in an elegant ballroom.

As soon as the dancing began Gaston Marchmont was standing before us.

He turned his eyes upwards and said something about a trio of enchantresses. Then he asked Tamarisk if she would honour him. It was what she expected, as the important Miss St. Aubyn; and she was gracefully whisked away as the Grindle brothers came up. Daniel then danced with Rachel and I went off with Jack.

Jack danced well. He commented on the excellence of the floor, the size of the ballroom and that he expected, now that Tamarisk was growing up, there would be more such occasions as this. It was light trivial conversation.

When the first dance was over, Gaston Marchmont danced with Rachel, Tamarisk with Daniel and I with a middleaged friend of the St. Aubyns whom I had met once before.

I guessed that I should dance next with Gaston. He would have to dance with the three of us, he would decide, and I felt a little irritated.

I did not want to be selected as a matter of protocol, or duty, whatever it was. I knew he would not really want to dance with me.

When my next partner took me back I was surprised to see Crispin talking to the aunts.

He stood up when he saw me approaching and, just at that moment, Gaston Marchmont came back with Rachel. Rachel looked flushed and happy.

“That was very pleasant,” said Gaston.

“I must compliment you, Miss Rachel, on your skill on the dance floor.”

Rachel murmured something and the music for the next dance was beginning. I saw Gaston’s eyes on me, and he was about to speak when Crispin laid his hand on my arm and said firmly: “This is promised to me.”

We moved on to the floor. I saw Gaston’s startled look as we did so.

Crispin was saying: “I hope I have not disappointed you by snatching you from the arms of the fascinating Marchmont?”

I laughed. I was indeed very pleased and excited.

“Oh no,” I said.

“He was only going to ask me because he thought he ought to.”

“Are you sure that he is so mindful of what is expected of him?”

“In that way, I am sure he is.”

“Are you being a little cryptic? You think in other matters he might not be so eager to carry out his duty?”

“I didn’t mean that at all. I just thought he would always behave as he thought impeccably in social matters.”

“I see you have not been quite so deeply impressed as the others have.

I am glad of that. I am afraid I don’t dance as well as he does. He really is adept. Talking of dancing, I fear you may find me a little clumsy. Shall we sit down? I think that would be more comfortable for you. “

He did not wait for my reply but led me to two seats among the potted palms.

We sat and watched the dancers in silence for a few seconds, and I saw Gaston dance round with one of the guests.

Crispin’s eyes followed him and he said: “Yes, an adept. Tell me, how do you think Miss Flora likes the new doll we found for her? Do you think she has accepted it?”

“At times I do. At others … I’m not sure. I fancy she looks sometimes as if she knew it is only a doll. Her face puckers up.”

“Yes?”

Well, just that. “

“Did it before? I mean, her face pucker up?”

Tm not sure. I think it might have. “

“Poor Flora!” He was silent for a while, then he said:

“You still pay your periodic visits to the cottage, then.”

“Yes.”

“It’s difficult to talk with all this noise. We’ll have supper together. I’ll come for you then. Do you have a card or something?”

I gave him my dance programme and he scribbled his initials on that space for the dance before supper.

“There,” he said.

“You’ll have plenty of chances to dance with people who know how to do it. But that one is mine.”

I was disappointed that he had only asked for that dance, and at the same time his manner was somewhat peremptory. He had not exactly asked, but taken for granted that I should agree. That was typical and reminded me of Tamarisk.

I could not resist saying: “Do you always tell people what they should do?”

He looked steadily at me, raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“It is a way of getting what one wants quickly,” he said.

“Does it always work?”

“Alas, no.”

“Suppose I had already promised the supper dance?”

“You hadn’t, had you? It was not booked on your programme.”

“Well, it’s only just started and …”

“So it’s all right then, isn’t it? I thought we’d have supper together. I want to talk to you.”

I felt pleased about this and I noticed that, when he took me back to my chair, several people looked at us with interest.

I danced once with Gaston. He came up soon after Crispin had brought me back. Crispin had then departed.

I think he had no desire to dance, which he rather despised, no doubt because he did not do it well. I saw him later in conversation with a man who, I think, was one of the estate managers, and later with an elderly man who, I had heard, had an estate some miles from St. Aubyn’s and who had brought his wife and daughter to the ball.

Gaston was such a good dancer that he made me feel I was one too.

He told me I looked charming and my dress was his favourite colour. I guessed that when he danced with Tamarisk flame red was his favourite, and when he was with Rachel it would be cornflower blue. Well, he might not be sincere, but he did try to please, which was different from Crispin.

He talked about St. Aubyn’s Park and Crispin. It was a very large estate, was it not? Probably one of the biggest in Wiltshire.

“Tamarisk tells me that you are interested in an odd couple who have a cottage on the estate.”

“Do you mean Miss Lucy and Miss Flora Lane?”

“Is that their names? What is all that about a doll one of them carries around and thinks is a baby? “

“That is true.”

“Strange, isn’t it?”

“It’s been going on for a long time.”

“Thinks the doll is the lord of the manor?”

“When he was a baby, she was his nurse.”

“And he looks after these sisters with very special care?”

“They were both his nannies at one time. People feel like that about their nannies. It’s very kind of him to take such care of them.”

“Bountiful indeed. Tamarisk says you get along with the mad one well and that you have a very special interest in it all.”

“I am sorry for them.”

“You have a kind heart, I see, and you visit them often. Tamarisk tells me that you go there when the other sister not the crazy one is away, and you’re hoping to find out what made the poor old thing lose her reason.”

“Tamarisk told you that!”

“Is it not so?”

“Well …”

“Of course,” he said, ‘we all like to get to the bottom of these things. And it must have been something that turned her brain, don’t you think? “

“I don’t know.”

“Perhaps through your research you will discover.”

The dance had come to an end.

“We must dance again,” he said.

“This has been most enjoyable. I expect you are fully engaged.”

“There are one or two,” I said, and he conducted me back to my seat.

After that I danced with several young men and I wondered why Gaston Marchmont was so interested in the sisters. I supposed Tamarisk had talked about them in her usual dramatic way. She always exaggerated.

And, of course. Flora and her doll were unusual.

I soon forgot Gaston. I was waiting impatiently for the supper dance.

I was afraid that Crispin might have forgotten, but as soon as the dance was announced, he was there.

He took my arm and led me on to the floor where people were beginning to dance. We went round the room once, then he said: “We’ll go now and get the table we want. Otherwise we might have to share with others.”

He led me to the two chairs where we had sat before. A table had been set up beside them. It was laid with glasses and cutlery.

“This will do,” he said.

“Put your programme on the table to warn other people that it is already taken. Then come along with me and we’ll get some food.”

A long table had been set up on trestles in the dining room. There were candles set at intervals and an abundance of food cold chicken, salmon, various meats and salads. It looked deliciously tempting. We were the first to arrive.

Crispin led the way and we helped ourselves to what we wanted. When we returned to the table there was a bottle of champagne in an ice-bucket standing there.

The music had stopped and people were now leaving the ballroom for the dining-room.

“What foresight!” I said.

“To be the first.”

“Indeed. We have avoided the crowd and here is our table with everything waiting for us.”

He sat opposite me. One of the servants had come to us and was pouring the champagne.

Crispin looked searchingly at me and raised his glass.

“To Frederica,” he said.

“Her coming-out. Are you pleased to have left childhood behind?”

“I think so.”

“What do you propose to do now?”

“I haven’t thought much of that.”

“Most girls want to get married. That seems the ultimate goal. What of you?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Oh, come. All girls think of it.”

“Perhaps you don’t know all girls. Only some.”

“And perhaps you are right. In any case, here you are on the threshold. Your first ball. How did you enjoy it?”

“Very much.”

“You sound surprised.”

“One really doesn’t know how it will go. Suppose no one asked you to dance?”

“That would put you in an awkward position. I’ll swear you don’t like to wait to be asked. You would like to be the one to do the asking.”

“Anybody surely would.”

“Then you could ask Gaston Marchmont to dance with you.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh? I’d forgotten that you are not as impressionable as some. Very discerning, that is you.”

“I hope … a little.”

“And then I come along and demand you leave the supper dance for me.”

He was looking at me intently.

“You and I have had some unusual encounters, haven’t we? Do you remember when we went and bought the doll? And then there was that affair in Barrow Wood.”

I shuddered. Did I remember? It was something I should never forget. I could be transported there at a second’s notice. It was always ready to leap out and confront me.

He put his hand across the table and held mine briefly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I replied.

“But it is not something I can forget.”

“It was a terrible experience. Thank God I happened to be passing!”

“He died … because of it,” I said.

“I can’t forget that.”

“It was the best thing that could have happened to him. He hadn’t the courage to face up to the fact that he had betrayed what he really was when all the time he was putting on that saintly mask to hide the man beneath.”

“He must have been very desperate when he went into the stable and hanged himself.”

“Don’t think of it in that way. Only be glad that I came along when I did. I can have no regrets.”

“Do you never feel that he died because he knew you despised him?

There in the wood I thought you had killed him. You left him there.

That did not worry you? “

“No. He was a coward … a hypocrite, setting himself up to be a saint when he could behave like the lowest animal. I can only rejoice that I came along when I did and in what happened after as a consequence. The best thing he did was to rid the world of his obnoxious presence -and, my dear Frederica, your well-being was far more important than his miserable life. Look at it that way and you’ll have no soft feelings for the miserable creature. The world is well rid of him. I would have been justified in killing him, but it was much more convenient that he did it himself.”

There was no sympathy in his face, but I could not help telling myself that through it all Mr. Dorian had wanted to be good.

Crispin went on: “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have brought this up. I wanted to be sure that you weren’t brooding on it. You must not, you know. Life can be ugly sometimes. You have to realize this. Remember what is pleasant and cut out of your mind what is not.”

He was smiling at me now very benignly and I remembered Tamarisk’s saying once that when people had rescued someone from something horrid they liked them because they reminded them of how good and noble they themselves were.

“Would you like more salmon?” he asked.

“No, thanks.”

“Well now, tell me what you think about Miss Flora. She talks to you, doesn’t she?”

“A little. But I’ve told you, it doesn’t make much sense.” “And you think she might realize sometimes that the doll has been changed?”

“It really wasn’t very much like the old one, was it? She had had the first one a long time and they make different styles now.”

“But she hasn’t actually said … ?”

“No. She just looks puzzled … but then she often has before.”

“As though she is trying to remember?”

“In a way. But perhaps more as though she is trying not i to remember.”

“As though she is trying to tell you something?”

I hesitated and he was watching me intently.

“Yes?” he queried.

“As though she is trying to tell you something?”

“There is that picture in the nursery,” I said.

“She is always looking at it and when she does her lips move. I can see she is saying to herself, ” a secret never to be told”.”

“So it is that picture …”

“I don’t know. It’s what it stands for, I suppose.”

I remembered my conversation with Gaston Marchmont earlier in the evening, and I went on: “Something must have happened to her to make her lose her senses … something very dramatic. Perhaps it concerns some secret which must never be told.”

He was suddenly quiet and stared down at his plate as I went on.

“I think it must have happened a long time ago when you were a baby.

It frightened her so much that she can’t accept it. Perhaps it was her fault and she is pretending it didn’t happen . and she wants to be back in those days before it did. That’s why she wants you to stay a baby. “

He said slowly: “That’s an interesting theory.”

“I should have thought if something had happened, people would know about it. Unless it was something only Flora was aware of. It is rather mysterious. Once or twice I’ve heard her mention a Gerry Westlake.”

“Gerry Westlake?”

“I think that was the name.”

“What did she say about him?”

“She just said his name.”

“There are Westlakes in the neighbourhood. A middle-aged couple with a daughter who is in service somewhere and there was a son who went abroad. Australia or New Zealand, I think. I don’t know much about them.”

“Well, I’ve only heard her murmur his name once or maybe twice.”

“I think she rather likes you.”

“She likes me to call, I’m sure.”

“Only when Miss Lucy is away.”

“I get the impression Miss Lucy doesn’t like people to call. Perhaps she thinks they might upset Flora.”

“But you don’t let that deter you.”

“Well, I quite like talking to Flora and I know she likes to talk to me. I don’t see any harm in it.”

“And you are naturally curious by nature.”

“I suppose I am.”

“And you are intrigued by the secret of those magpies, and you are wondering if it is at the root of what has robbed poor Miss Flora of her wits.”

“I have an idea that it might have been due to some terrible shock.

These things happen. “

“And Miss Frederica Hammond has become a part-time sleuth and is determined to solve the mystery.”

“That is an exaggeration.”

He laughed at me.

“But containing a grain of truth?”

“Well, I suppose anyone would be interested.”

“And particularly some.” He lifted his glass.

“I suppose I should wish you well in your endeavours.”

“If the cause of something is known, there is more chance of putting it right.”

“Might the truth not be too horrifying to disclose? In which case it might make everything worse.”

“I suppose that is a possibility.”

“We’ve talked about others all the time. Tell me about yourself. What do you do when you are not visiting Miss Flora?”

“It is so recently that I left school, I have not really settled to anything yet,” “There will be other occasions like tonight. They will keep you busy.

I believe several events are being planned for my sister, and I dare say you and Rachel Grey will be joining in them. “

“The three of us have been together ever since I came to live here.”

“You have been happy in Harper’s Green?”

“Very happy. My Aunt Sophie has been wonderful to me.”

“I was sorry to hear about your mother.”

“It was sad because she never enjoyed life. My father had gone and she would have liked to go back to her old home, but it had been sold. She wasn’t happy living in a small house where she could see it all the time.”

“So Harper’s Green was a happier place to be in.”

“I was very lucky to have Aunt Sophie.”

“Your father … ?”

“I have never seen him. He and my mother parted.”

He nodded.

“These things happen.”

I wondered if he were thinking of the wife who had left him.

“Well, when you marry I hope you will be as happy as you are now in The Rowans.”

“Thank you. I hope you will be happy too.”

“You know what happened. There are few secrets in Harper’s Green apart from the one which claims so much of your attention. My wife left me.

Perhaps one could not blame her for that. ” He spoke rather bitterly and I felt I should change the subject, but I could not think of anything to say, and we fell into silence.

Then I waved my arm, indicating the room.

“What a lot of trouble it must have taken to prepare all this.”

“We have a very good housekeeper and butler. They are practised in this sort of thing and were glad to have an opportunity to show their skills.” He went on: “She left me for someone else and then she was killed in a railway accident.”

“It must have been a terrible shock for you.”

“What? Her elopement or her death?”

“Both,” I said.

He did not answer. I said rather clumsily: “Never mind. You might find someone else.”

I was thinking of Lady Fiona who was said to be so suitable, and it occurred to me that the conversation was taking a rather unusual turn which was embarrassing us both.

“Oh yes,” he said.

“Had you anyone in mind?”

I had to go on.

“There was some talk about a Lady Fiona.”

He laughed.

“People do talk, don’t they? We are good friends. There was never a suggestion of marriage. She has, as a matter of fact, married recently. I was at her wedding. Her husband is a friend of mine.”

“So it was just gossip.”

“There is always gossip. Depend upon it. If people think a man should settle down they will try to find a wife for him.”

I was amazed at the relief I felt.

People were leaving the tables now and the clock was striking midnight.

“Alas,” said Crispin, ‘this pleasant interlude is coming to an end.

Thank you for talking to me. “

“I have enjoyed it so much.”

“And you did not mind my insisting that you join me?”

“It was the best part of the evening,” I said frankly.

He smiled and, rising, led me to a group who were forming a ring in the centre of the ballroom. The orchestra played “Auld Lang Sync’ and we all joined in the singing, clasping hands and shaking them with fervour.

Archie Grindle drove Aunt Sophie and me home before taking Rachel and her aunt back to the Bell House.

Lily was waiting to greet us.

“I’ve got some hot milk waiting for you,” she said.

“And how was the ball?”

“It was very good indeed,” said Aunt Sophie.

“That hot milk will be nice. It will help us to sleep after all the excitement.

Where are we having it? “

“Kitchen,” announced Lily.

“Come on. It’s all but ready.” So we sat there drinking milk and answering Lily’s questions.

“I reckon they were fighting each other to dance with you,” said Lily.

“That is a slight exaggeration,” Aunt Sophie told her.

“But there were plenty of partners. And what do you think? She was monopolized by the lord of the manor.”

“Get away with you!” said Lily.

“It’s true. He doesn’t go in for dancing much, but it was the supper dance with our young lady and he booked it well in advance to make sure of it. Isn’t that right, Freddie?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Well, I’ll be jiggered,” cried Lily.

“And there he was, plying her with champagne.”

“You don’t say! Champagne! That’s heady stuff.”

“It was all very grand, I can tell you. I remember balls at Cedar Hall. At one time they terrified me. I was always afraid of being a wallflower, till I told myself I didn’t care a jot and if the young men didn’t want to dance with me, well, I didn’t want to dance with them either.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Lily.

“Silly young things. Didn’t know what they were missing, I reckon. Well, it wasn’t like that with Miss Fred by all accounts.”

“By no means. What did Crispin St. Aubyn talk about, Freddie?”

I thought back.

“It was really most about the Lanes,” I said.

“He is interested in them and he wanted to know what I thought about Flora.”

“He really is very good to them,” said Aunt Sophie.

She sat sipping her milk, looking back in her mind to those days at Cedar Hall when, I supposed, the partners came to my mother and not to her.

I agreed with Lily that they were indeed silly young things.

And I loved Aunt Sophie more than ever.