The Black Swan

A Quiet Wedding

The journey went smoothly. Roland got us across Paris and we caught the train to Calais in good time. I realized often during that journey how lost I should have been without the Fitzgeralds.

Then there was the task of getting on the ferry. I felt so relieved when we came in sight of Dover.

The Fitzgeralds said they had a pied-à-terre in London which Roland used when he was there on business; but he did pay frequent visits to the headquarters in Bradford. When we arrived in London, he said they would drop me and then go on to their little place. They would not come in with me as I should be unexpected and it would be better for me to arrive alone and make the explanations. They would call next morning to make sure everything was all right.

They accompanied me to the door of the house where my bags were deposited. The cab waited at the door until it was opened by the butler.

I turned and waved to them and the cab drove off.

The butler was clearly astonished. “Miss Lansdon, we weren’t expecting.... We didn’t get a message....”

“No,” I replied. “There wasn’t time to send a message. Is Mrs. Lansdon at home?”

“Yes, Miss Lansdon. I’ll inform her. And I’ll send someone to take your bags up to your room.”

“Where is Mrs. Lansdon?” I asked.

“I think she would be in the drawing room, miss.”

“I shall find her. If you will see about the bags ...”

“I will, miss.”

I went past him up the stairs.

Celeste had heard the sounds of arrival and was at the top of the stairs to see what it was all about.

“Lucie!” she cried.

“Oh, Celeste, I’m so glad to see you.”

She put her arms round me and held me tightly.

“But why?” she said. “Where... are Belinda and my brother?”

“They are still in France. I came back with friends.”

“You must be very tired.”

“I suppose so ... but at the moment I’m so glad to be back that I don’t feel the least bit tired.”

“Something has happened....”

I hesitated and she went on, “I’m so sorry. It’s Joel, of course. I hope I did the right thing in letting you know. I wasn’t sure. I ought to have broken it gently. But I thought you would have to know.”

“Oh yes. Dear Celeste, I had to know. How... how are the Greenhams taking it?”

“Badly. I’ve only seen them once. I called... but I think they do not want callers. One understands. Sir John... well, you can’t tell with him, but Lady Greenham cannot hide how sad she is. I felt I shouldn’t have called. It seemed like bringing it all back ... but I suppose it’s in their minds the whole time. I left very soon.”

“Did you see Gerald?”

She shook her head. “It is so very tragic. There was such excitement when Joel went. It was going to be so important for his career. It all seemed so happy then. And it has all changed. But we must not speak of it. I am so pleased to see you. It has been so quiet without you and Belinda.”

“Belinda is going to be married.”

“Yes, I know.”

“It is all so suitable. It happened very quickly. Her father approves. Sir Robert seems acceptable in every way. It was love at first sight and I suppose there will be a grand wedding.”

“Yes,” said Celeste with a faint note of alarm in her voice. “It will be here.”

“You’ll do it beautifully,” I assured her.

“And you... Lucie?”

I hesitated and then decided to tell her.

“It became a little awkward. Your brother asked me to marry him.”

“No!”

“He did. And, Celeste, I could not accept his proposal. He seems to think I shall change my mind, but I shan’t. I never shall.”

“No. I understand.”

“Well, I couldn’t really stay in the house with that sort of situation and I had met some people who were coming back, so I traveled with them.”

“French people?”

“No. English. It was rather a coincidence. I met them first on the ferry going over... just briefly, you know, and it turned out that they were staying near us. We became friendly. You know how it is ... meeting your fellow countrymen in a foreign land. I saw them several times, and when I heard they were coming back, I thought I’d take the opportunity to travel with them. They will be calling tomorrow, so you will meet them.”

“It’s lovely to have you back,” she said.

“It is wonderful to be back,” I replied.

“It’s been rather lonely without you.”

“Dear Celeste, you should have come with us. The chateau is so beautiful. You must know every inch of it.”

“Well, it was where I was born, where I lived my early days. But I made a new life here. This is my home now.”

I thought then that her life was as tragic as mine.

We went up to my room together. My bags were already there.

“I’ll send one of the maids up to help you unpack,” said Celeste.

“I’d rather do it myself.”

“Would you like something sent up on a tray... and then you can get to bed?”

“Hot water to wash off the stains of the journey. Then the tray.”

“It shall be done. Then... later we’ll talk.”

“Thank you, Celeste. It was a nice welcome home.”

I washed and the tray came up. I was surprised to find I was really hungry. I did not feel sleepy so I wrote a letter to Rebecca telling her I was home. I had a great desire to go and see her, and toyed with the idea of going down to Cornwall the very next day.

I could not do that though. The Fitzgeralds were coming tomorrow, and I could not leave Celeste who was so delighted that I was back.

I would stay in London for a week at least, so in the meantime I would console myself by sending a letter to Rebecca.

I wrote to her at some length, telling her that I was home. But I did not mention Jean Pascal. That was something I could only convey to her when we were alone. The letter would be posted next day.

One of the maids came in, took the tray away and asked if there was anything I needed.

I told her there was not.

How peaceful it was! How different from that room in the chateau which had aroused in me such feelings of foreboding. It was as though it were warning me. Of marriage with Jean Pascal? Even to contemplate that sent a shiver down my spine. Why should I be so scared? People could not be made to marry where they did not want to. Here I felt safe from Jean Pascal. There would be no need to lock my door.

That night, before getting into my bed, I went to the window and looked out across to the enclosed gardens and the street lamp. Just for a moment I fancied I saw a figure lurking in the shadows. It was merely the effect produced by the light, but for a second or so it startled me. I thought, am I going to be haunted all my life? The next day the Fitzgeralds called, and Phillida’s gaiety and Roland’s quiet charm made a good impression on Celeste.

Phillida talked amusingly about her adventures in France and the trouble she had had with the language; and Celeste laughed a good deal, which was rare for her. Before they left they received an invitation to dinner the following night which they accepted with alacrity.

Celeste said, “I want to thank you for looking after Lucie.”

“It was our pleasure,” replied Roland.

“The journey was such fun,” added Phillida, “particularly when we thought we were going to miss the train in Paris. Then we realized we had misunderstood the time. It is so difficult, you know, when they let out that stream of words... and numbers are particularly tricky.”

Celeste was quietly animated.

“They are so charming,” she said, when they had gone. “The sort of people you become very friendly with quickly. I look forward to seeing them tomorrow night.” I was delighted to see how much they all seemed to like each other. That afternoon I called on the Greenhams. I knew it was going to be painful but I wanted to find out all I could about Joel, and I guessed, in view of my relationship with him, they would regard me as one of the family.

I was shown into the drawing room. Lady Greenham was not there and Sir John was alone.

He took both my hands in his and said, “How are you, Lucie?”

“I am well,” I replied.

“My wife is very poorly,” he told me. “She is really not well enough to see anyone.”

“I understand. It must have been a terrible shock for her.”

“For us all. I’m afraid she is taking it rather badly.”

“I was wondering if you have any details. Gerald ...”

“Gerald is back at his duties. We only know what you have been told. There is nothing more to be said.”

“It is all rather mysterious.”

“It happens, Lucie.”

“I thought perhaps ...”

“We are trying to grow away from it. You understand what I mean. It is over. There is nothing we can do.”

We were silent.

“Would you care for a glass of sherry?” he asked.

“No, thank you.”

I had an idea that this interview was as painful for him as it was for me, and I wanted to end it as soon as possible.

“I think I should be going,” I said. “Do give my best wishes to Lady Greenham.”

“I will,” he said, and looked relieved.

I felt a little hurt, and that my call had been unwelcome.

It was very strange. In the past they had always been so friendly. They had behaved as though I were a member of the family. Of course, that friendship had been with my father; but whenever we had visited I always felt very welcome; and in view of my relationship with Joel I really did feel very close. I was a little subdued and surprised that now I felt like a stranger intruding on their grief, which surely they knew was mine also.

I was pensive as I drove home. Then I began to realize that seeing me must have brought back the tragedy more vividly.

I mentioned this to Celeste.

She replied, “You noticed it too. I did not see Lady Greenham either. I was told that she was not well and was resting in her room. But Sir John... well, he hardly seemed overjoyed to see me.”

“I can understand it in a way. They were so friendly with my father and first he went... and now Joel. We must try to realize how they must be feeling. They don’t want to see anyone who reminds them. I had the feeling that I did not know the whole truth.”

“What was there to know? He went out there full of promise and he came to this dreadful end. It’s a bitter tragedy for his parents.”

“Yes, I understand their feelings. But I hoped to hear something. Now it is left at Joel’s just going over there and then... disappearing.”

“Well, that is what happened. I think, Lucie, you will have to try to forget Joel. We both have to shut off the past. We’ve got to look ahead. Now those very nice people you met ... I think we could be really good friends. The girl is amusing and he is rather serious... but I like him for that.”

“I am glad you like them. I do, too.”

“Well, we’ll see how this dinner goes.”

It went extremely well; and after that the Fitzgeralds became frequent visitors to the house. They took us out to dine. Their pied-à-terre was not suitable for entertaining, they said.

Our pleasant friendship was developing fast.

To my great joy, Rebecca paid us a visit.

As soon as she had received my letter she had prepared to come to London. I could talk to her as I could to no one else, and I was soon confiding to her what had happened with Jean Pascal.

Her face darkened as she listened.

“Oh, you did well to leave, Lucie. It was absolutely the right thing and how lucky that those nice people were leaving at the same time.”

“I don’t think they planned to do so actually. They just put their return about a week forward so that they would travel with me.”

“Then I like them the more.”

“You’ll be meeting them soon. They have become great friends. Celeste, I am glad to say, likes them very much and so will you. I wrote to you at the chateau but I did not post the letter. I was asking you to come there and then of course I saw the Fitzgeralds the next day and realized I could leave with them.”

When I told her how Jean Pascal had tried to come into my bedroom, her face darkened. “How glad I am your door was locked! He is a man to avoid. I was quite worried when I heard you were going to France with him. I did think, though, that his main interest was in Belinda.”

“So did I. I think he is proud of his daughter. She is like him in lots of ways and she is, of course, very attractive.”

“And he really asked you to marry him!”

“I was astonished. Of course, he had been very considerate toward me all the time... and then that happened and I just wanted to run away.” She nodded. Then she said slowly, “A thought has occurred to me, Lucie. You could now be called a rich young woman, I suppose.”

“You think it was that ...”

“He is what he would call a realist. He was once going to marry a girl with royal connections... but that sort of thing has gone out of fashion in France. I always thought that was why the marriage was delayed and later abandoned. It may be that now he is ready to settle for a fortune. On the other hand, you are young and he would find youth very appealing at his time of life.”

“He said that he was in love with me.”

“He falls in love as naturally as he breathes. It doesn’t mean much more to him than the fancy of the moment. But to propose marriage... well, I don’t like it, Lucie. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you had the good sense not to be fascinated by him.”

“I was repulsed.”

“I know. So was I. He made suggestions to me once. Oh no ... not marriage. He had the temerity and insolence to suggest that he could initiate me into the art of being more seductive to my husband. I was furious with him. And then... it was in High Tor ... he tried to rape me. It was to give me a taste of the irresistible pleasures which he could provide and which I was too stupid and unsophisticated, in his opinion, to know anything about.”

“How arrogant! He can be courteous and behave sometimes with such a sense of chivalry outwardly while he plans those things. He reminds me of the swan.”

“Swan?”

“Yes, there was one on the lake in the chateau grounds. It was beautiful ... so majestic. It gives an air of peace gliding there across the water. Then suddenly, it becomes vicious. One of the maids lost an eye when it attacked her-so he told me.”

“How absolutely terrible! I think it is a very good thing that you have come home. Now... Lucie. You have to look ahead. There must be no more brooding. It’s a mistake to live in the past. You have lost two people you love-cruelly and violently. But there are good things in the world. You’ve got to look for them.”

“I know, Rebecca, and I am going to try.”

She leaned forward and kissed me and, as I had all my life, I felt comforted by Rebecca. We knew that Rebecca’s stay would be brief as she could not leave her family for long. Two weeks was the most we could expect.

She said that when she left she was hoping to take me with her. I felt it would be restful to be at High Tor for a while.

When she met the Fitzgeralds she liked them very much. We saw them every day and a firm friendship was fast growing between the two families. They would come to luncheon or dinner and repay our hospitality with visits to the theater or the opera.

Rebecca said it had been a wonderful gesture of theirs to return home with me so that I did not have to travel alone. That was a test of friendship; and, of course, at that time I did not know them as well as I did now. And the more we knew them, the more our respect for them grew.

It was so pleasant, said Rebecca, to see a sister and brother so fond of each other; and it was rather touching to be aware of how they attempted all the time to look after each other. It had come about, of course, through the tragic loss of their parents. They were really very nice people. That was the general verdict.

I had almost made up my mind that I would go back with Rebecca when the letters came.

One was from Jean Pascal to Celeste, the other was for me from Belinda.

“Dear Lucie,” she wrote,

I am going to be married in six weeks’ time. Isn’t that exciting? Bobby insists.

He is so impatient.

He came down to the chateau as he had said he would and then we were officially engaged. There was a grand party to celebrate it. It was wonderful. Musicians playing in the great hall and in the gardens. Lots of grand people and mon pere displaying me with pride as his dear daughter. Nobody asked awkward questions as to where I had been all this time. They understand these matters in France. However, there I was, his dear daughter and her lovely fiancé.

Bobby is a darling. He does everything I want. He said he was sorry you weren’t here, and I told him how awful you had been... an absolute pig. After all we’d done for you... making a fuss of you... looking after you... and then you went off suddenly just because those people were going home. Bobby said he thought pigs were rather nice. He’s got a lot of them on his estate. But Bobby is like that. He likes everything. That’s because he’s so happy about us.

The fact is, we are coming home. Mon pere is giving Celeste instructions because I’m to be married in London. I wish it were here in the chateau... but mon pere says no. We have to remember Bobby and he couldn’t very well be married in France. So ... London it is. I shall need you to help me with my trousseau. I’ve decided on the wedding dress. It’s going to be ... no, I won’t tell you. You don’t deserve it after the way you’ve behaved. Mon pere will tell Celeste what has to be done. It will be the wedding of the year. That is what we intend to make it.

You are a silly old thing... just going off like that. Mon pere says you thought you were intruding. What a lot of nonsense! He said you were mistaken, but he understood your feelings and he has forgiven you for going off like that. I haven’t though. Never mind. You shall help me to get ready.

Isn’t it fun? We are coming home next week, and by the time you get this it will be very near.

Till then,

Belinda

Celeste was a little dismayed when she read her letter.

“This wedding is going to be rather a grand affair,” she said. “My brother wants me to arrange it.”

“I gathered that from Belinda. She seemed very happy.”

Celeste nodded and continued to look worried. “You’ll help, won’t you, Lucie?” I thought of the peace of Cornwall in Rebecca’s company which I had been contemplating but there was pleading in Celeste’s eyes.

“I shall if I am of any use ... of course.”

I was rewarded by the immense relief in her eyes.

The Fitzgeralds were very interested when I told them the news.

“Do you think we shall be invited to the wedding?” asked Phillida.

Roland looked shocked but Celeste said quickly, “You are invited now.” Phillida clapped her hands. “What a wonderful day that was,” she said, “when we met on the Channel ferry.”

Rebecca understood now that I should not be accompanying her to Cornwall. “But you will come later on,” she said. “It will be something for us to look forward to.”

Belinda arrived at the house with Jean Pascal. I was not looking forward to seeing the latter but when he appeared he was so gracefully charming, and no reference was made to my unconventional departure from the chateau.

I was glad, however, that he did not stay at the house although I expected him to be there frequently during the coming weeks.

Belinda was in a state of bliss. She chattered endlessly and the subject was always that of the imminent wedding. She had changed the venue of the honeymoon five or six times.

First it was going to be Rome. “The catacombs and all that. The Colosseum. We shall see where the Romans sent the Christians to the lions.”

Then a few days later: “I don’t know. I don’t think I want to see all those old ruins. But I believe there is rather a nice fountain. You throw a coin in and it means you will come back. I think I’d rather like that. But perhaps... Florence.” Then we heard of the glories of Florence for a few days until she thought of Venice.

“All those canals. Fascinating. Drifting along in a gondola with a handsome gondolier.”

“You shouldn’t be interested in handsome gondoliers... only in your new husband.”

“I shall have to make him jealous... now and then, don’t you think?”

“No, I do not.”

“Of course you wouldn’t... and what do you know about it?”

“Enough to know that it is not a very propitious start to a honeymoon for the bride to be planning conquests of other men.”

She put out her tongue at me as she used to do when we were children.

Finally Venice was the favorite.

“Doesn’t poor Bobby get a choice?” I asked.

“He just wants to do what I want.”

“I can see that he is determined to keep you contented.”

She loved that sort of banter and she could get it only from me, I believe she was fond of me in a way, just as I was of her. In spite of everything that had happened, there was a bond between us and it was impossible to break it.

The days began to slip by. There was so much to do and it all seemed so important that I have to admit that there were periods-quite long ones-when I stopped thinking of my father and Joel.

Celeste noticed and said it was the same for her. She said to me, “This wedding is good for us, Lucie.” And I knew what she meant.

“It’s an indication,” she went on. “It shows that ... in time ... we can grow away from the past.”

Jean Pascal had decided that it should be a grand occasion. I think he had become quite fond of Belinda. She amused him and he liked to be amused. She was really very attractive and that made him proud of her, I imagined. I wondered what Leah would have said to see her daughter now.

The wedding gown had arrived. It was beautiful and made of Valenciennes lace and satin; there was a wreath of orange blossom for her hair and her bouquet was to be made of gardenias.

“Everything will be white,” she said.

“A sign of purity,” I reminded her.

I was surprised at the effect my words had on her. She looked at me sharply. “Why did you say that?”

“Because it is true, isn’t it?”

“I thought you were ...”

“What? What did you think?”

“Oh... nothing.”

“You looked quite fierce.”

“I thought you were making fun.”

“We’re always making fun, aren’t we?”

“Yes... but that was different.”

“Whatever has got into you?”

“Oh nothing, pre-wedding nerves.”

“You! With pre-wedding nerves? You’re joking.”

“Of course, you idiot.”

But there was something on her mind. I wondered what for a while and then I forgot it.

The wedding day dawned. There were a good many guests and of course the press was in evidence. Belinda was referred to as the niece of Benedict Lansdon. The press was interested on this account. It was recalled that Belinda was married from the very house outside which the assassination had taken place.

“Happier Days,” commented one newspaper. “The ghost of the past exorcised. Today, from the door from which Benedict Lansdon had emerged on that fatal day to meet his assassin came a charming bride. Miss Belinda Bourdon, niece of Mrs. Celeste Lansdon, was married today from the very house outside which Benedict Lansdon was shot not quite two years ago.”

It was a pity they had to bring memories back to us.

So Belinda became Lady Denver. She was a very beautiful bride. I shall never forget the sight of her standing beside Robert while they cut the cake. She looked radiantly happy and I was sure she was.

Celeste and I helped her change into what she called her going-away costume. It was peacock blue trimmed with miniver. She looked enchanting in the close-fitting hat made of matching blue feathers.

She kissed us fervently and told us how much she loved us, which was rather touching coming from Belinda. Then we were all waving them off on their way to Venice. I was with Roland and Phillida afterward.

“It was a wonderful wedding,” said Phillida. She looked a little wistful. “It is marvelous to be as happy as that.”

Roland agreed with her.

“It’s always something of an anticlimax at this moment,” I said. “The bride and bridegroom have departed. And here we are left ...”

“With friends,” said Roland looking at me steadily.

“Yes, of course,” I replied. “With friends.”

There was indeed a feeling of anticlimax after the wedding. I missed my verbal battles with Belinda. They had somehow brightened the days. Jean Pascal was in London which made me feel I wanted to get away.

Rebecca was preparing to go back to Cornwall and urged me to go with her. I hesitated. Much as I liked to be with her and her family, I did not think it was what I needed just then. I told myself that Celeste needed me here. There was another thought which occurred to me. I should not see the Fitzgeralds and it brought home to me how much their friendship meant to me.

Then I thought of Manorleigh. I had loved that house in my childhood. It had seemed full of mystery, and life had been exciting there. Belinda and I used to ride round the paddock on our ponies. There was the haunted garden with the oak tree and the seat on which Belinda had once played the ghost. It was my house now; and that gave it an added attraction.

I told Rebecca that I should like to stay there for a week or so. “A good idea,” she agreed. “It will get you out of London, and you are not so far away.”

“I shall ask Celeste to come and stay for a few days when she wants to. I think she would be rather lonely if I went far away.”

Rebecca understood.

Celeste said she would love to come to Manorleigh.

“Any time you feel like it, Celeste. It is your home ...just as I think of this house as mine.”

I saw Rebecca off to Cornwall and I should have felt very melancholy at her departure if I had not been making plans to go to Manorleigh.

When the Fitzgeralds called I told them that I was going away for a while and could not help being pleased by the blank dismay on their faces. “Actually it is only a little way out of London,” I told them. “Manorleigh was my father’s constituency. He bought Manor Grange because of that. And now it is mine. It’s a lovely old place and it is quite a long time since I’ve seen it. I am going down there for a while.”

“We might be able to visit you perhaps,” suggested Roland.

“But of course. I shall expect that. I am going on Monday.

Why don’t you come down at the weekend? That will give me time to settle in and prepare the servants. You could come on Friday if that is convenient.” Roland looked at Phillida whose eyes were shining with delight.

“We shall be there, shan’t we, Roland?” she cried.

He looked at me steadily. “That is one thing of which you can be sure.” So I left for Manorleigh. Celeste came with me. She said she would go back on the Wednesday. She just wanted to see me settle in.

We had a good welcome when we arrived. Mr. and Mrs. Emery, who had been with us for years, were waiting in the hall with the parlor maid, two housemaids and Mrs. Grant, the cook.

It was rather formal at first. They had known me as a child and as the outsider at that, the child their beloved Miss Rebecca had unconventionally brought into the household; they had not known then, of course, that I was Benedict Lansdon’s daughter; and I don’t think they ever really got used to this fact.

Mrs. Emery had adored Rebecca. I was sure she would have been delighted if my half sister had inherited the house. However, here I was.

As head of the staff, Mr. and Mrs. Emery were very much aware of their position in the house and constantly afraid that it would be assailed in some way. I imagined they were wondering why I had suddenly decided to come. We were installed in our rooms. Mine was the one which used to be next to Rebecca’s. It looked down on the oak with the wooden seat under it. It was the spot where the ghosts were said to gather.

I stood looking out of the window for some time, remembering so much of the past.

I had known memories would come flooding back in this house. I slept well and was awake early. I was reminding myself that it would not be long before the Fitzgeralds came. What fun it would be showing them the house!

After breakfast Mrs. Emery asked me if I would come to her room for a little chat. “It was Miss Rebecca’s way to do that,” she said. “She and I got on like a house afire. What a lovely young lady! I trust she and Mr. Cartwright are well.”

“They are very well, Mrs. Emery. My sister would have liked to come and stay here for a few days before going back to Cornwall after the wedding, but she felt she had left her family too long.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Neither Mr. Cartwright nor the children like her to stay away too long.”

“No. I am sure he doesn’t and as for the little ones... God bless them. As long as she is well and happy ...”

“She is, Mrs. Emery.”

She was looking at me anxiously. “You have had a terrible time, Miss Lucie.”

I nodded. “I have to put that behind me, Mrs. Emery.”

“I was wondering... Miss Lucie ... if you have any plans....”

“Plans?”

“About the house. I mean, Emery and me... well, we’ve been wondering....”

“Oh, I see what you mean. I’d always want you here, Mrs. Emery... you and Mr. Emery. No, I haven’t any plans. I’ve been so shocked by everything. Then I went to France... and almost immediately there was Belinda’s wedding.”

“Well,” said Mrs. Emery, “that was something, that was. And Lady Denver she is now. I remember her well, though it’s years since I’ve seen her. She must have changed a bit.”

“She’s grown-up. But ... she is still... Belinda.”

“I see what you mean,” said Mrs. Emery nodding sagely “Will you be living here now, Miss Lucie?”

“I’m very unsure at the moment. It is my home now, I suppose. I think Mrs. Lansdon would like me to be with her. I expect I shall be between here and London and go now and then to Cornwall. It will be like the old days.”

“I see. I reckon it will all work out. You were always so fond of Manorleigh ... and now it’s yours! It’s a wonderful house. Emery and me ... well, we’ve come to feel rather... settled here, if you know what I mean.”

“I do, Mrs. Emery. Don’t think for a moment that I want to change anything. I have a feeling that this will be my home really. By the way, I have some guests coming for the weekend.”

She brightened considerably. “Oh, that’s good. How many, if I may ask?”

“There are two ... a brother and a sister. I met them in France.”

“Are they French, Miss Lucie?”

“No. They’re English. They were staying in France near where I was. I had met them on the Channel crossing. It was quite exciting when they turned out to be staying near. Well, the fact is they visited us in London and I want them to see this place.”

“Brother and sister. The Blue Room, I think, for the lady and I’ll talk to Emery about where we’ll put the gentleman. So Friday... and that will be for luncheon, will it?”

“Yes, it will.”

“It’s nice to have things going on in the house,” she said. “I can’t tell you how glad I am you’ve come. So is Emery.”

Celeste went back to London and I waited for the arrival of the Fitzgeralds with an impatience which amazed me.

They came in the morning. It was wonderful to see them and my spirits immediately arose. I took them up to their rooms where everything had been made ready for them; and then I showed them the house which delighted them. Phillida wanted to hear the story of the haunted garden and listened intently when I told her of the young wife who had died when her daughter was born and came back to comfort her; and how the daughter grew into a strange woman who used to sit on the haunted seat under the oak tree and talk to her dead mother. Phillida said it was a delightful story. “You believe it?” she asked.

I replied, “I don’t know. Would you?”

“Yes, I think I would,” she replied. “I think people might come back ... in special circumstances. If they suddenly left the earth... like the woman who left her child. That would be love, wouldn’t it? Some might come back for hate.”

“Phillida,” chided Roland.

“Well, suppose someone had been murdered... mightn’t that person feel that he ... or she... had to come back and haunt the one who had sent him to the grave?”

“Or her,” said Roland lightly.

“Well, of course. You’re laughing at me. He does laugh at me now and then, as you know, Lucie. I suppose I’m full of fancies. That is what my dear brother thinks. But I am not sure about such things. You see what I mean, Lucie, don’t you? I believe you have an open mind, too.”

“Yes, I believe I have.”

“What a morbid conversation,” said Roland. “And in this beautiful house!”

“Well, it was this beautiful house which started it,” pointed out his sister. “Those people under the tree and all that.”

Roland looked at her in affectionate exasperation. Then he said, “Oh, I see you have some good stables here, Lucie. Do you ride much?”

“Yes. I’ve always loved it. It was one of the main attractions of Manorleigh for me.”

“Then perhaps we can ride while we’re here?”

“That would be wonderful.”

“We’ll find one of those inns we’re always hearing about,” said Phillida. “You know the sort. They’ve been there for the last three hundred years; there are underground vaults where they used to hide the goods which had been smuggled into the country; they lured ships onto the rocks and led seamen to their deaths; they hung the excise men on gibbets and buried their corpses in the cellar.”

“Except,” I said, “that we are miles from the sea and I don’t know where your wreckers could have done their evil work.”

“You have started something,” said Roland laughing. ?’You’ve brought out Phillida’s unhealthy taste for the supernatural.”

“That’s right,” went on Phillida. “You hear the moaning in the night of those who died violent deaths.”

How we laughed that weekend! We explored the house. There were lengthy discussions during meals. There was always something to talk about. We rode through the countryside visiting those little villages where Celeste and I used to go canvassing during election time. We found an inn which appealed to Phillida, but the landlord was very prosaic and not given to conversation-which disappointed her. It was a wonderful weekend and I was very sad when it came to an end.

“Couldn’t you stay another day?” I asked when Monday came.

“Oh yes, please. Do let us, Roland,” cried Phillida.

He looked rather sad. “I shall have to be going up to Yorkshire very soon,” he said. My look must have betrayed my disappointment for Phillida came to me and put an arm round my shoulders. “It has been so wonderful knowing you,” she said rather huskily. “I marvel at my luck that day on the boat when I spoke to you. Roland says I shouldn’t do that sort of thing, but I always have and you see how well it has worked out this time. I was right, Roland. You have to admit it ... because if I hadn’t been like that ... we should never have met Lucie.”

“Let us say that you were very right on this occasion,” admitted Roland.

“Please show you mean that by staying another day,” said Phillida.

He hesitated. “Well ...”

I cut in, “Oh, please do. It would give me so much pleasure.”

“Perhaps then ...”

So they did.

Phillida had become a favorite with Mrs. Grant, the cook. From the first she had complimented her on her various dishes and admitted that she herself-as she put it-liked to try her hand at special dishes... something unusual.

On Sunday for lunch Mrs. Grant had served a soufflé. Phillida had praised it and wanted to know exactly how it was done.

Mrs. Grant was enchanted. She was a garrulous woman who came of a family of cooks; her mother had actually cooked in this house and so had her grandmother before that. She it was who had first told Rebecca the story of the haunted seat. The outcome of this was that Mrs. Grant said that she would make a soufflé” for lunch on the Monday and if Phillida would come to the kitchen she would show her exactly how it was done.

Phillida delightedly accepted the invitation.

“So you are going to desert us,” said Roland. “I had thought we would go for a long ride on Monday morning. I’d like to see that village again... the one with the Norman church.”

“Well, there is no reason why you and Lucie should not go,” said Phillida.

Roland looked at me.

“No reason at all,” I said.

“If Phillida prefers the kitchen to the open countryside, so be it,” added Roland.

That was how it was that Roland and I were alone that morning. We visited the Norman church and came out to the ancient graveyard. The yew trees had been there for many years and so had some of the gravestones. Many of the inscriptions were almost entirely obliterated; some of the dates were just visible and it was sobering to realize that many of them had been put up two hundred years before. “How peaceful it is here,” said Roland.

“You really feel you are here with the dead,” I said.

“Does that sadden you?”

“No. I just feel the peace of it.”

We made our way along the path, past the well where visitors to the graves found the water for the flowers they wished to put there.

There was a wooden seat close to it.

“Could we sit here for a while?” suggested Roland. “There is something I want to say to you.”

“Yes, let’s do that,” I replied.

So we sat there.

“How quiet it is,” I said.

“People are all working. Remember it’s Monday. I expect on a Sunday there are many people here. Lucie ... I want to talk to you.”

“Yes?”

“It’s difficult,” he began. “I know what you have gone through....”

“You and Phillida have helped me a lot.”

“Phillida is very bright. It is difficult to feel unhappy in her company. That does not mean she does not feel....”

“Oh, I know. It has been wonderful for me to have been with you both.”

“We feel the same. And it is because of this that I want to talk to you. You have made a lot of difference to us. I know Phillida loves you. And, Lucie... so do I.”

I was silent for I was not sure to what he was leading.

The fact that he mentioned Phillida’s love for me with his own suggested that they shared an affection for me like that of brothers and sisters. I was already aware of that. On the other hand... could he mean that he was in love with me? He went on, “We have come to know each other very well over the last months. I know you have suffered a terrible tragedy, and you feel that your old way of life has been completely shattered. But you cannot go on living in the past, Lucie. You’ve got to break away. I know you are feeling a little uncertain. I understand you well. But I’m in love with you, Lucie. I have been thinking of you almost from the first day we met....”

“You are asking me to marry you?”

“Yes. It is what I want more than anything on earth. And I think it would be a way for you to start a new life ... to put the past behind you.”

I was silent thinking about it. I could not say I was in love with him. I liked him very much and I had been melancholy at the thought of his and Phillida’s going back to Yorkshire.

He was of course aware of my hesitation. “Lucie,” he said anxiously, “what are you thinking?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You do like us ... Phillida and me ...”

“Of course. It has been wonderful knowing you.”

“I promise to make it more wonderful yet.”

He took my hand and held it firmly while he leaned toward me and kissed my cheek gently.

“Have you told Phillida you were going to ask me?” I said. He nodded. “Phillida is very perceptive. She said to me, ‘I know you are in love with Lucie. Ask her to marry you. It is only right that you should.’ Phillida is hoping you will say yes. You know what she is. She said she would go away and leave us together. Married people should be alone together, she says. She is a wonderful person, Lucie. We’ve always been together ... as I told you... and since our parents’ death... well, you know how that is. I don’t know what she would do but...”

“I would not dream of separating you.”

“Then we should all be together... the three of us. Oh, Lucie, it would be a good life.”

“You two,” I said, “you are so happy together ... as for myself ...”

“I should have waited,” he said. “But as I shall have to go to Yorkshire I felt I could not go without asking you.”

“How long will you be in Yorkshire?”

He lifted his shoulders. “I can never be sure. I am in London nowadays most of the time, but I do have to pay these occasional visits to the North and then I am not sure how long I shall be away. That’s why I felt I had to speak to you this morning.” I thought of what it would be like when they had gone. Celeste was in London. I could go there but there were so many memories. Every morning I would have to pass the spot where my father had fallen. I would look out of my window and wonder if the man in the cape and the opera hat were there.

Or I could stay at Manorleigh. But that was different now. If Belinda had been here... but she had now become Lady Denver. And I was alone. But I need not be. And yet ... I was not in love with Roland. I liked him. In fact I was very fond of him. I enjoyed his company so much and that of his sister. When I looked back over the last months I realized that they had been the ones who had made life tolerable for me. I did not forget how they had cut short their stay in France so that I need not travel back alone.

If I said I could not marry him, what would happen?

He would go to Yorkshire and I should not see him for a while. I would probably not see much of them again. The thought depressed me.

He was waiting for me to say something.

‘Tm sorry, Roland.” I turned to him and it hurt me to see the expression of misery in his face. I knew then that I did care for him. I was very fond of both him and his sister. Her lively conversation, his calm strength, had meant a good deal to me during those days in France. I did not want to lose them. I went on, “You see, Roland, what happened was so devastating. It was so sudden.”

“I know. I understand perfectly.”

“I feel that I am still reeling from the blow.”

He nodded.

“It was not only my father. There was something else.”

“Please tell me, Lucie.”

“My engagement was going to be announced.”

“Your engagement!”

“Yes. It was to someone I had known for a long time. His people were great friends of my father’s. He was in politics. He went to Buganda... and was murdered.”

“Oh, my poor Lucie. I had no idea. I remember something... was it a group of MPs on some mission?”

“Yes. Joel and I were going to announce our engagement when he returned.”

“And you... were in love with him?”

“Yes.”

He put his arm round me and held me against him. I felt comforted.

“And you feel you could not love anyone else,” he said bleakly.

“I ... don’t know.”

“You must have been very young ...”

“Well, it was not so long ago, but I seem to have grown up a good deal since then.”

“I understand. You have not recovered from this blow. But you do like us ... you like me and you like Phillida, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I’m very fond of you both.”

“You have been so badly hurt. First your father... and then this young man ... and in such a short time.”

“Life is like that, I believe. When misfortunes come it is not always singly.”

“I’m glad you told me. You were very much in love with him, weren’t you?”

“I ... thought so.”

“But you were very young.”

“I know that I was very happy when he asked me to marry him; and now he is gone.

He is dead... just as my father is.”

“I want to care for you. I want to bring you back to happiness. I want to show you that life can be good again.”

I just sat there with his arm about me while I stared at the graves and found myself wondering about the life and loves of those who were lying under the gravestones. They also would have had their tragedies to face; they would have been brought face-to-face with decisions which could shape their lives.

I knew that I wanted to stay there with him beside me. I did not want him to go away. I wanted a chance to forget the tragedies of the past and when I was with him and Phillida I could laugh and forget for a while.

He was right. I did need to start afresh, and even Rebecca could not help with that because she was too close to the tragedy.

Yet I hesitated. Thinking of Rebecca, I knew I must talk to her.

I said, “Roland, I have grown so fond of you and Phillida. But I am unsure. Marriage is not something which can be undertaken lightly.”

“By no means. You are going to say you need time to think about it. That is right, of course. You should think about it. That was what you were going to say, wasn’t it, Lucie?”

“Yes,” I answered.

He held me tightly to him. “Then I can continue to hope,” he said. “I think that when you leave for Yorkshire I shall go down to my sister Rebecca in Cornwall.”

“That seems a good idea.”

“She has been like a mother to me.”

“She is a wonderful woman. Both Phillida and I said that of her. We loved her because we could see how much she cared for you.”

“Yes,” I said. “I shall go to Rebecca.”

“And when you come back I shall have my answer?”

I nodded.

He kissed my cheek again lightly. “Oh, Lucie,” he said. “You can’t know how important it is to me that you say yes.”

As we walked slowly back to our horses, he slipped his arm through mine. I felt a great urge to say yes; but something restrained me. I did want to talk to Rebecca first.

When we arrived back we were just in time for luncheon. Phillida was waiting for us. She searched our faces eagerly. She had known Roland was going to ask me to marry him. I was not surprised at that. They were so close and she was the sort of person who would know exactly what was going on, so she would be aware of his feelings for me. I could see by the expectant look on her face that she very much wanted us to marry. I felt then how good it would be if the three of us were together. I could visualize a happy life with them. “How was your morning?” she asked.

“Interesting,” Roland told her.

“The church is so ancient,” I said. “It is amazing how those Norman buildings stand up to time. How did the soufflé go?”

“You’ll be able to judge that for yourselves.” I sensed that she was disappointed. It was wonderful to be with Rebecca again. There was a warm welcome for me at High Tor. Alvina and Jake wanted to take me off to the nursery so that they might show me their toys and Pedrek said how nice it was to see me and that I did not come to Cornwall often enough.

Rebecca, who knew me so well, realized at once that there was something on my mind, and on the very first night after I had retired she came to my bedroom for the customary chat.

“Something’s happened,” she announced. “Is that why you are here?”

“I very much wanted to talk to you.”

“Well?”

“Roland Fitzgerald has asked me to marry him.”

I could see that she was pleased. “Such a nice man. I liked him... and his sister. The way they brought you back from France is an indication as to the sort of people they are.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Well, are we going to have a wedding?”

“I don’t know, Rebecca. I’m so uncertain.”

“You are thinking of Joel still?”

“Of course.”

She took me by the shoulders and looked into my face. “You can’t go on grieving forever, Lucie,” she said.

“I know. That is what Roland says.”

“He knows... about Joel?”

“I told him.”

“Lucie, the sooner you break away from the past it is going to be easier for you.”

“That’s what Roland implies.”

“He’s right. He’s a good man and he loves you.”

“Yes, I think he does. But there is more to it than that.”

“You mean you don’t care for him?”

“I do ... in a way. They have been so good to me... both he and his sister ...”

“Oh, there is his sister. I suppose she feels a little put out.”

“Oh, no, no. I am sure she knew he was going to ask me. You see, we went out riding, just the two of us ... but I felt he had talked it over with her beforehand. Which was natural. She had made an excuse not to come. She was waiting for our return and when there was no announcement I think she was a little disappointed.”

“Oh! So you really think she wants you to marry him?”

“Yes, I do. You see, the three of us get on so well together. She was so much a part of the trio. Roland is rather quiet. She does most of the talking. She is very jolly.”

“And you are fond of her.”

“It would be difficult not to be. She is so charming and so kind. She is really a delightful person.”

“It seems to me that you want to be part of that trio,” said Rebecca. “I rather think I do. But ... I am not sure. It is not so very long since I was thinking of marrying Joel.”

“You must stop thinking about Joel. Couldn’t you have a tentative engagement ... something like that?”

“I think Roland wants a definite answer.”

“Of course he does. But he’ll understand that you are not ready yet.”

“I think he does understand that. It is just that I am so unsure.”

“I think it would be a wonderful idea if you made a fresh start, if you put the past behind you. You’ll never get over it while you go on brooding. There is so much all round you to remind you of it. I don’t think it’s good for you to be in that house in London. I think Celeste should sell it and get right away. It is, after all, where it happened. And then Manor Grange... you were there so much with your father.”

“I could never sell Manor Grange, Rebecca. What about the Emerys?”

“Yes, I know. It would break their hearts. How they used to love all the entertaining which was done there! They’ve been through so much with us.”

“Mrs. Emery adores you.”

“We always got on well together. We’d talk in her sitting room... over her Darjeeling tea.”

“I think she likes me, too, but for her there is only one and that is you, Rebecca.

You see that I could not bear to disturb them.”

“Well, why don’t you go and stay down there while you make up your mind?”

“And your opinion is that I should marry Roland?”

“Well, we don’t know much about him, but he is certainly very charming and really everything I want for you. I like his relationship with his sister, and she obviously adores him. Well, that shows something of his character, doesn’t it? When you see devotion like that ... it has to be earned and in their case it is mutual. Yes, I do think it would probably be the best thing for you to marry him.”

“It’s so soon. That is what I think.”

“But you’ve got to grow away from it and the sooner the better. I am so glad you came here.”

“I had to talk to you, Rebecca.”

“Well, let us get some sleep. We’ve plenty of time to talk later on.”

She kissed me good night, and to my surprise, I slept through the night without waking.

There was certainly something comforting about being with Rebecca.

The days began to speed past. I spent a good deal of time with the children. Rebecca and I went riding together and visited some of the people on the neighboring farms. There was always a welcome and we were generally given refreshments-usually homemade cider and home-baked cakes, which it would have been churlish to refuse.

Rebecca loved the country life; but then, of course, she had Pedrek and the children. She had admitted that she had discussed my affairs with Pedrek and he thought that Roland-and his sister-would be just right for me. In fact, the more I saw of the family life Pedrek and Rebecca enjoyed, the more I came to believe that the best thing I could do was marry Roland.

I liked Roland. I loved Roland, I supposed. I realized how desolate I should be if I never saw him again. It was brought home to me how much I enjoyed his and his sister’s company. Phillida could always make me laugh and it was indeed a fact that when I was with them I could more easily forget the past than at any other time. I had been romantically in love with Joel, but I had been young and inexperienced then; and although I might not be so very much older now, I had known such tragedy as few are made to face, and that must inevitably force me into maturity. Rebecca and I discussed the future constantly. We went over the same ground again and again; but Rebecca did not mind. What she wanted most was to find the right solution and I realized she had made up her mind that it was marriage with Roland. I knew she was looking into the future and she saw me in a cozy home with Roland and Phillida... and children. Rebecca was a great believer in the solace that children could bring.

And so the days passed and I began to believe that she was right; and by the time I left Cornwall I had made up my mind.

I would marry Roland.

I went back to Manor Grange and I had only been there a few days when Roland and Phillida came down. They had had a trying time in Yorkshire, they told me; and they were delighted to be back in the South.

When I told Roland I would marry him, he looked so happy that my spirits were lifted.

He held me tightly in his arms and kissed me tenderly.

“I want to tell Phillida first, Lucie,” he said.

We went to her room. He knocked and we stood on the threshold hand in hand. I saw her eyes light up with joy.

“It’s true!” she cried. “It’s really true!”

She flew at me and hugged me.

“I’m so excited!” she cried. “I’ve been so terribly afraid. Oh, Roland, isn’t it wonderful? Now there’ll be three of us.” She stopped and released me, her face grave. “There will be, won’t there? But... perhaps you won’t want me. Two’s company, three’s a crowd....”

“What nonsense!” I said indignantly. “We’re no ordinary three.”

“No, we’re us!” She kissed me again and her jubilation delighted me.

“Phillida has been a little anxious,” explained Roland.

“Anxious!” she said. “I was terrified. I was afraid you were going to pass over the chance of a lifetime and refuse the most wonderful man in the world.”

“Phillida,” protested Roland with a little laugh.

“Well, it’s true. And who should know better than I? Oh, Lucie, I’m so happy. You must forgive my being a little silly. I am like that when I am happy. But I know this is going to be the most wonderful thing that could happen. We missed you so much in Yorkshire. I said to Roland, ‘It isn’t the same without Lucie. Something’s missing.’ And of course I was right. Lucie was missing. Are you sure you’ll want me with you? I shan’t spoil it, shall I? Oh, I do hope ...”

I laughed at her with Roland. “Of course we shall want you,” I said. “It wouldn’t be the same... without Phillida.”

The news was out. Mrs. Emery thought it would be “very suitable.”

“I hope you’ll be living at Manor Grange, Miss Lucie,” she said. “I don’t know. We haven’t made arrangements yet ... but rest assured I shall keep Manor Grange just as it is.”

Celeste was delighted. I had written to her and my letter brought her hurrying down.

“I’m so pleased for you, Lucie,” she said. “It really is the best thing possible.

You have to put everything that has happened behind you.”

“It’s what Rebecca tells me.”

“You’ll start a new life. You’ll be happy, I know. Roland is such a good, kind man.” She spoke wistfully. I wondered whether, when she thought of my father, she remembered the years of frustration and loneliness she had endured. Poor Celeste, I wished she too could find happiness.

It was to be a quiet wedding. We did not want a renewal of that publicity which Belinda’s wedding had provoked.

“It is too soon after everything,” said Celeste. “It was different with Belinda. She wasn’t so close to your father. But I realized that was a mistake and should have been done more quietly.”

Roland said he did not mind what sort of wedding it was as long as it took place. When Belinda heard that I was to be married she and Bobby paid a flying visit to Manor Grange.

Her marriage appeared to have been very successful. She had grown even more attractive. She had acquired some very fashionable and beautiful clothes, was as vivacious as ever and had thoroughly enslaved Bobby.

“Marriage suits you,” I told her.

“I made up my mind that it should.”

“Bobby is charming.”

“He’s rather a pet and it is all such fun. He has the most fantastic house in the country... you’re coming to stay... you and Roland. Mind you, between ourselves, I found the country a trifle dull. I’m persuading Bobby to buy a house in London... and we shall be there most of the time.”

“Bobby has agreed, has he?”

“Bobby always agrees.”

“I can see why the marriage is so successful.”

“Now don’t be acerbic. Is that the right word? You would know, you old sober sides.

I never thought you’d get married.

But now there is this nice Roland. Celeste says he is very charming and suitable. He comes from Yorkshire, doesn’t he? Does that mean you’ll live in Yorkshire? I hope not. It’s much too far away.”

“Roland is mostly in London and he and his sister have a little pied-à-terre. He doesn’t have to go to Yorkshire so very often. So I expect we shall be round about here most of the time.”

“A house in London, I suppose, and Manor Grange as the country residence. Well, it’s yours anyway. Lucky old Roland, to marry an heiress.”

That remark upset me a little. I was sure Roland hadn’t thought of me as an heiress. He knew little of my affairs and had never asked. All the same... Belinda had planted an uneasy thought in my mind. Trust Belinda to introduce an unpleasant note! “Are you going to have a grand wedding?” she asked.

“No. A quiet one.”

Belinda grimaced.

“I should have thought that... with all your money... you would have wanted something really grand.”

“We are not all as ostentatious as you like to be,” I reminded her. She laughed. “I recommend Venice for the honeymoon. Ours was wonderful. But I expect you would prefer Florence. Dante and Beatrice and all that. It was all there, wasn’t it?”

“We have not decided yet.”

“Well, you should. It’s such fun planning. I am wondering what to wear for this wedding.”

“That should keep you occupied for a while.”

She laughed and gave me an affectionate push. “Honestly, Lucie. I never really thought you’d make it. You never set out to attract men and they do like to be chased, you know.”

“I thought they were supposed to do the chasing.”

“That shows how little you know of the world.”

It was amusing talking to her as always, and I was glad she would be there. It was unfortunate that Jean Pascal had come back with her.

Celeste told me that he had asked all sorts of questions about Roland.

“It is not his affair,” I protested.

“He says he feels a certain responsibility for you ... as he does for Belinda.”

“Well, there is no need.”

I hoped he would not approach me, but he did. He caught me when I was alone.

“So,” he said, “you are going to be married!”

“Yes.”

“I feel considerably jealous of my successful rival.”

“It was never a matter of rivalry.”

“You made that clear to me. I should be very hurt with you. But I do really care for you, Lucie, and I want to assure myself that all is well.”

“Then I can assure you that all is well.”

“This man... your fiancé ... he seems to have come out of the blue, as it were.

He was on the Channel ferry; he was in France. Is that all you know of his background?”

“I know what I wish to know,” I replied. “Really you must not concern yourself.”

“But I do. You see, you are Celeste’s stepdaughter and that makes some sort of relationship between us, doesn’t it? Who is going to look after you if I don’t? Rebecca’s husband? Well, he is far away in Cornwall.”

“Why do you think I need a masculine protector?”

“Most women have one. If your father were alive ...”

“But he is not, and I assure you that I do not need your protection.”

He bowed his head and then lifted his shoulders.

“In fact,” I went on, “I would prefer it if you did not attempt to ... as you say... protect me.”

“I must accept your decision, of course,” he said. “But you must remember that you are not exactly penniless. There might... with some people... be a certain temptation....”

I looked at him coldly, and said pointedly, “I feel sure there may well be some....”

He smiled at me, cynically, taking my meaning. He did not look in the least offended and I felt that my suspicions that my newly inherited wealth was the main reason for his offer of marriage were not without foundation. I felt disgusted with him. I compared him with Roland who was so different and who, I was sure, had no ideas of the size of my fortune. I felt very happy and secure then.

Every day I was thinking more and more of how good life would be when I was Roland’s wife.

It was, to Belinda’s disgust, a very quiet wedding. We had decided that it should be at Manorleigh which would ensure that the press was not so likely to get wind of it. I could not fancy walking out of the London house over that spot where my father had been struck down. Not on my wedding day! It was Celeste who had suggested Manor Grange. She had been staying there for a week before the wedding, planning everything.

Rebecca had come, too, with Pedrek and the children. This was a very special occasion, she said; and we had decided that Alvina should be a bridesmaid and Jake a page. Pedrek would “give me away” and Jean Pascal had offered to be Roland’s best man. “Roland doesn’t have anyone else here,” explained Celeste, “and Jean Pascal offered himself, half in fun, and was accepted.”

It seemed ironical that a man who, a short time ago, had asked me to marry him, should take that role; but I believed it was a situation which would appeal to Jean Pascal’s type of humor.

Belinda and Robert were staying at Manorleigh, too. We had invited very few other guests.

“It is really just our immediate circle,” said Celeste.

Mrs. Emery had prepared for us what she insisted on calling the Bridal Suite. It was on the floor above my old room-one of the largest in the house, with a dressing room attached. It had big windows which looked down on the oak tree and the haunted seat. In fact the view was exactly the same as mine below.

Fresh curtains had been hung and the carpet cleaned. In the room was a large four-poster bed... the one which had been used by Sir Ronald Flamstead and his young wife... that Lady Flamstead who, it was said, had come back from the dead to be with the child whose birth had killed her.

After the ceremony we were to spend one night before leaving the following day for our honeymoon, which, after a certain amount of debate, we had decided should be spent at Amalfi.

We were to leave early on the morning following the wedding; and Phillida would stay on at Manor Grange with Celeste. They had become very good friends, although they were so different-Celeste so quiet and restrained, and Phillida so ebullient. I was surprised at the friendship which had sprung up between them, but of course delighted. I mentioned it to Roland. “Oh, Phillida is determined to be friends with everyone,” he said. “She is so happy... about us ... and she has made up her mind to love everyone connected with you.”

“What a wonderful nature she has! Life must be easy for her.” He looked at me tenderly and said, “Since the death of our parents she has not had to face tragedy. It is my earnest wish that she will never again have to. And that is how I want it to be for you, my dearest Lucie, and I am going to do all in my power to make it so.”

I thought then: yes, I was right. This was the way for me. The wedding was over. I was Mrs. Roland Fitzgerald; there was a gold ring on the third finger of my left hand to prove it.

It was the first step away from all that unhappiness. Of course I would be reminded of it from time to time. Such momentous happenings cannot be dismissed so easily... but I was moving away from them. I was going to start a new life. I was a little afraid of the inevitably intimate nature of my relationship with Roland.

I felt so ignorant. I thought of Jean Pascal. Suppose I had married him! I should have been terrified of a man like that. But of course I would never have married Jean Pascal, and my husband was Roland ... dear, kindly Roland, whose only concern was to comfort me and make me happy. I need not have feared. Roland was tender and understanding, as I had known he would be. He realized my uneasiness and respected my innocence. When I looked at the big four-poster bed I wished that we had had another room. I kept thinking of the beautiful young Lady Flamstead and I did not want ghosts on my wedding night.

I went to the window and looked out on the oak tree and the seat below. Roland came and stood beside me.

“There is nothing to be afraid of,” he said. “All I want in the world is to make you happy. What is it about that spot which seems to have a morbid fascination?” I told him of the ghost who had sat there; and while I was talking I was thinking about my own mother who, Rebecca had said, had come to her, although she did not see her, but had insisted to her that she must take me into the household. Did people return after death? If so, what of the man whom I had helped to condemn? I dismissed the thought ... or tried to. It was an unsuitable subject for a wedding night.

I turned to Roland who took me into his arms.

“Dearest Lucie,” he said, “don’t be afraid of anything. It shall be as you wish.

I am going to take care of you from now on.”

He led me back to the bed. I lay quietly in his arms for a time and later... gently and tenderly-he made love to me. And I was not afraid anymore.

I often look back on the two weeks spent in Amalfi. In spite of everything it was a wonderful honeymoon. It was an excellent choice. There can be few more beautiful spots in the world. It was warm without being too hot; we stayed in a charming hotel near the Cathedral and from the balcony of our room we looked out on the bluest of seas.

Everyone seemed friendly and glad to see us. We went for long walks and reveled in those magnificent views of high precipices and little white houses on the hillside. We would sit for hours talking idly... just being happy. I had not felt such peace since my father’s death.

I felt I could not be grateful enough to Roland for what he had done for me. He was very moved when I told him how I felt. He took my hand and kissed it. “I have never known such happiness,” he said. “Thank you, Lucie.”

“I have a feeling now,” I replied, “that everything is going to change for me. I am going to be happy. I really believed that I never could be again. It was terrible, Roland. My father was so important to me... and to have him taken away like that. If he had been ill ... if I had been prepared... perhaps ... I don’t know. But to go like that. And then the trial ...”

He put his hand over mine. “Don’t think of it. It’s over, Lucie.”

“It must be. But I can’t stop thinking of it. You see, it was my evidence. That man ...”

“He died,” said Roland in a quiet voice.

“He had killed my father. What could he expect?”

Roland did not answer. He was staring out at the blue sea with a strange expression on his face. Then he turned to me, smiling. He kissed me... lightly at first then with passion.

“Roland,” I said in surprise.

“Dear Lucie,” he replied. “Please don’t worry.” Then he added slowly, and there was a note of something I did not understand in his voice, “What has to be has to be.” We sat for a long time looking over the sea.

I loved exploring the town. There was so much of interest to see; both Roland and I were enthralled by the past and loved to make discoveries. Amalfi had been just a name to us before. Now we learned that the little town had become quite important in the sixth century under the Byzantines, and later it was one of the first maritime republics in Italy.

I loved to visit the Cathedral of St. Andrea with its beautiful bronze doors which, we learned, had been standing there since the eleventh century; then there was the campanile and the cloister near the Cathedral. There was so much to see and how I loved to linger in those little streets and to sit under a blue and white sunshade drinking wine or coffee.

We talked about most of the places we had seen and made plans to see more. Roland said as we were nearing the end of our stay that we should visit Naples. We spent a few days there and each morning would look out over the bay at the menacing peak of Vesuvius. We spent an exciting day at Pompeii. It was exhilarating and at the same time sobering to pick one’s way over those excavated ruins of what had once been a great city until the molten ash from the giant volcano had destroyed it. It brought home to me how precarious life was and how in one day death and disaster could change the whole course of a life.

Roland said, “I think Pompeii, while it interested you, saddened you a little.”

“How could anyone look at such destruction and not be saddened?” I asked. “How could one walk over those cobbles which had once been streets, and not think of that terrible day when disaster struck?”

He knew, of course, that I was thinking of another disaster which had struck, perhaps even more suddenly.

We were a little somber that evening when we returned to Naples; and I could not forget while we stayed in that town, for everywhere I looked I felt the scene to be overshadowed by the looming, menacing volcano.

We went back to Amalfi-beautiful, peaceful Amalfi; and there we spent the last few days of our honeymoon.