The Black Swan

The Return

The next day Belinda and I went up to London.

We went first to Celeste who was delighted to see us.

“Lucie as well,” she said. “This is nice. I do hope you are going to stay a little while.”

“Well, Celeste,” I replied, “I thought I’d go to Roland. He is in London now.”

“She couldn’t do without him,” added Belinda. “She has to come up to be with him.” How could she diverge from the truth unnecessarily? I had come up at her request to see Henry Farrell, and she knew it. Why had she deliberately twisted the truth? “So Roland will be expecting you?” said Celeste.

“No. He doesn’t know I’m coming. It was arranged on the spur of the moment. I thought I’d just come to see you and then go along to him. He’ll be busy during the day and Belinda and I have one or two things to do in London.”

It sounded reasonable enough.

We had luncheon with Celeste and by that time it was three in the afternoon. Belinda was all impatience but I said I would go and see Henry Farrell on the following day, because I wanted to prepare what I would say to him. And first I must see Roland.

Belinda accepted my decision rather ungraciously, but she did not want to offend me for fear I abandoned the entire exercise.

I left her with Celeste and took a cab to Welling Gardens where Roland and Phillida had their pied-à-terre.

It was a street of tall narrow houses. I had been there only once before and then only briefly. Neither Roland nor Phillida had suggested that I should go again and it had not seemed necessary that I should. It was a rented house-a temporary residence-and when they had entertained us it had been in hotels and restaurants. We had always heard the place referred to vaguely as the pied-à-terre.

At number seventy I alighted and paid the cab driver. I mounted the steps to the front door and, looking down, I saw the shadowy figure of a woman in the basement. She would be the wife in the couple who took charge of the domestic arrangements and lived down there. Roland had told me that the man and wife team went with the house to those who rented it.

I knocked on the front door and after a while the woman opened it. She was middle-aged, rather plump with reddish hair.

“I’m Mrs. Fitzgerald,” I said.

The woman stared at me for a few seconds and then smiled rather expansively.

“Oh, come in,” she said. “I’ll tell Mr. Fitzgerald ...”

“Oh, he’s home, is he? I wondered whether he would be at this time. My plan had been to be here and surprise him when he came in.”

Then I saw him. He was coming down the stairs and he paused to stare blankly at me for a moment. Then he said, “Lucie!”

“I’ve surprised you, I know,” I explained. “But I came to London and here I am.”

His surprise turned to warmth.

“Oh... Lucie ...”

He had taken me into his arms. I was aware of the woman watching us, smiling. “Thank you, Mrs. Gordon,” he said, noticing her. “This is my wife. We’d like some tea ... or something.”

He put his arm round me. “Come upstairs. It’s wonderful to see you. I can’t tell you how pleased I am.”

“I thought you would be at your office.”

“Well, the fact is I’ve been hard at it ... until today. Then I brought some work home. It was a change of scene and I thought I might get on quicker without interruptions. I was so anxious to get back to Manorleigh.” He opened a door. “Come into the sitting room. Not much compared with Manor Grange, I’m afraid.”

“Well, it is just the ... pied-à-terre.”

“It suffices. It’s not a home really... but the Gordons are good. They really take care of everything.”

“I think it’s rather nice. Homely. You could make something out of it.”

“That’s what Phillida used to say. But it isn’t ours... just rented. We did talk about getting a house of our own, but we never got round to it. However... the great thing is, you are here. Tell me, what made you come? Did you want to see me?”

“Of course I did. But I don’t think I should have disturbed your work if it had not been for Belinda. She came down to Manorleigh... and more or less prized a promise from me to come to town for a few days.”

“Belinda, the wild one,” he said.

“Yes, that’s Belinda. We should have come yesterday but for the fire.”

“Fire?”

“Oh yes. I must tell you about it. It was in our room. The bed is ruined ... all those lovely curtains are a mess. We don’t know how it started. Emery thinks it was a candle which fell over and caught the curtains which smoldered for some time before bursting into flames. Anyway we think that is what happened.”

“But when... when was this?”

“The night before last.”

“In the night... while you were ... in bed!”

“It’s all right, Roland. I woke up in time.”

“Oh, my God,” he murmured.

“The fire had only just started. I rushed out and woke the household. Emery was marvelous.”

He held me tightly against him. “Lucie ...”

“It’s over, Roland. Phillida was in a terrible state about it.”

“Oh yes ... Phillida.”

“She keeps talking about what might have happened to me. But it hasn’t... and it’s a lesson to me to be more careful in the future.”

“I ... I can’t understand how it could have happened.”

“Emery is sure it was the candle... and I suppose he’s right. However, it was all over very quickly.”

He released me, sat down and covered his face with his hands. I went to him and drew them away. His face was tortured with anguish. I felt a tremendous tenderness toward him. How he loved me, I thought. I must try to love him always. I must care for him. I felt suddenly very protective.

I said, “Forget it, Roland. It’s over. Phillida is getting rid of the bed. There’ll be a new one when we get back.”

He did not seem to be listening. He was staring straight ahead and I knew he was seeing that room with the flames creeping up the curtains, and me... lying there, unaware.

He could not stop talking of it.

There was a tap on the door and Mrs. Gordon came in with some tea.

As we drank it I told him that Belinda had come down to see me. He did not pay much attention. I guessed that his thoughts were far away in that bedroom in Manor Grange.

“I am going out with her tomorrow,” I said. I wondered whether to tell him of her troubles and decided that they had been given to me in confidence and that I was not expected to divulge them even to my husband.

“I see,” he said.

“You’ll be busy, of course. Do you think you will be finished by Friday?”

“Oh yes. We’ll go back together.”

Then we talked of ourselves and he told me how much he had missed me.

“I should have come with you,” I said.

He smiled in agreement. Then he said, “Phillida would have hated to be alone at Manor Grange. She has some notions that the servants resent her and think she is trying to usurp your place as mistress.”

I did not answer. I knew there was some truth in this.

Then I said, “You know what servants are. The Emerys were there when my mother was alive. I never saw my mother. She died when I was born, but my half sister Rebecca has talked to me of her so much that she is a real person to me. Before the Emerys came here they were my mother’s servants in her small London house and she took them to Manor Grange with her. So you realize how long they have been in charge of things?”

“Oh yes. Phillida understands that. I think she would like to have a place of our own... start afresh ...”

“She has said nothing to me.”

“No. She wouldn’t. Sometimes she has a feeling that she is in the way... the third party ... if you know what I mean. It’s on her mind quite a lot. She is always wondering whether, now we’re married, she ought to leave us.”

“Oh no. Where would she go? I’m so fond of her, and I know you’d hate it if she went away.”

“We’ve always been together. It would be a terrible wrench for us both.”

“For me too. I love her dearly. I always think of her as my sister.”

“I know she feels the same about you.”

“She was so terribly upset about the fire.”

“I can imagine that. Well, what do you think of the idea? Say somewhere in Yorkshire?

It would be near Bradford and convenient. It’s beautiful countryside.”

I was silent. I should hate to be away from London and Manorleigh.

“We would, of course, keep on this place.”

I looked round it. I could not imagine it as a home. A tall narrow house ... in a street of such houses, it seemed dark after the big airy rooms of the London house which was now Celeste’s and Manor Grange. The latter, with its spacious rooms and inescapable air of mystery, meant a great deal to me.

“You couldn’t sell Manor Grange,” said Roland tentatively. “No, I don’t think I could. Even if I wanted to. I was so shocked when my father died that I am afraid I didn’t take in everything about the will and the practical details. I’ve realized since that, although everything was left to me, it was left in trust. I can’t touch the capital and I suppose the house would come into that category. In any case, the solicitors would have to be consulted before I made any move. I think my father thought I might be prey to fortune hunters.” Roland looked alarmed and I laughed.

“Oh... that couldn’t apply to you, Roland. But there are people.” I thought of Jean Pascal. I had no doubt of his motives. “My father was a very shrewd man,” I went on, “and his great wish was to protect me. Of course, he hadn’t thought of dying for a long time. In any case, he left everything in what is called a trust. It means that I can’t do anything with the capital. It’s for my children and if I don’t have any it’s for Rebecca’s. So I don’t suppose I could sell Manor Grange without a lot of fuss.”

“I see,” said Roland. “Well, this was just an idea of Phillida’s. And she loves Manor Grange. It is just because she feels there is some resentment....”

“That will pass. The Emerys are really a wonderful pair. But they have their set of rules and everyone is expected to keep to them.”

“And Phillida has stepped out of line.”

“It was because she brought Kitty into the house without consulting Mrs. Emery. She is the one who expects to engage the staff and she feels it was an affront to her.”

“I wish we’d known.”

“It’s a small matter. She’ll get over it. Oh, it is good to be here. I’m glad I’ve seen you in your Welling Gardens home.”

“Hardly a home. Just a place to sleep in. That’s how Phillida and I regard it. It seems different now you’re here though.” I smiled happily. The next day, I kept my promise to Belinda. I took a cab and went to the address she had given me. It was, as she said, a small hotel in Bayswater. There was a reception desk and I asked there if Mr. Henry Farrell was in. He was not but was expected shortly. I said I would wait.

I was reproaching myself for not having made an appointment with him; but, of course, if I had attempted to do that, there was a possibility that he might have refused to see me.

For ten minutes I sat rehearsing what I would say to him, and I grew more and more convinced that I had been misguided to give way. What sort of man was he? Forceful, I imagined. He had come over here to assert his rights. He was not going to listen to me. The best thing I could do was get up and leave now. I should have discussed this with Roland, asked his advice. I knew what it would be: don’t interfere. Leave Belinda to sort out her own troubles. Of course, that was what I should have done. But I did care for her ... in an odd sort of way. I had really been delighted to see her, as I had thought, settled at last. While I was ruminating, I heard a voice say: “Mr. Farrell, there’s a lady to see you.”

He came toward me. He was of medium height, his fair hair bleached by the sun, his face clearly showing that he lived in a different climate from ours. He was deeply bronzed which made his eyes look intensely blue. His features were clear cut; and there was an undoubted air of strength about him. He was a pleasant looking young man and I could understand Belinda’s temptation to act recklessly before she realized that there could be a more splendid life ahead of her than one spent in the goldfields. “Mr. Farrell?” I said, rising.

“Yes,” he said, in a marked Australian accent. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I’m Lucie Fitzgerald. I was Lucie Lansdon. I don’t know whether Belinda spoke of me to you.”

“Aw,” he cried. “You’re Lucie.” He took my hand and shook it heartily. “Glad to meet you.”

I found I was liking him.

“So you’ve come to see me?” He looked surprised but pleased.

“Is there somewhere we could talk?”

“Well, there’s a lounge. Pretty quiet this time of day. That might do.”

“Thank you. I should be so glad if you would allow me to talk to you.” He looked puzzled and led me to the lounge. He was right. It was deserted and I was glad of that.

“Come and sit down,” he said, “and tell me what this is all about.”

We sat in armchairs in a corner of the room and I said, “Belinda came to see me.

She is very distressed.”

“So she ought to be.”

“Yes, I know. She told me all about it. It’s a terrible thing she has done.” He nodded and I was silent, wondering how to go on. He prompted, “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

I hesitated. “You... you see, she was very young.”

“That makes no difference. She was willing enough. She knew what she was doing. She was dead keen. If she’s changed her mind now... well, that’s too bad.”

“I know exactly how you feel.”

“I don’t know why she sent you. What does she want you to do?”

“She didn’t exactly send me. I agreed to come. She told me all about it. She’s very unhappy. She deeply regrets ...”

“She’s said all this to me. But she’s my wife and I’m going to take her back with me.”

“Do you think it would work?” I asked. “Could it possibly be a happy marriage in those circumstances?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well... with your insisting while she is reluctant.”

“It’s what is right.”

“Oh yes, I’ve no doubt of that. But what is right does not always make for happiness.”

“Look here, I don’t really see ...”

“I know how you feel. I’m interfering. It’s no business of mine.”

“You’re dead right, it’s not.”

“But I do appreciate the fact that you listen to me ... even to tell me it’s no business of mine. It’s just that I’m very fond of Belinda. We spent a great deal of our childhood together. There’s a closeness... and she is very unhappy.”

“I tell you, she’s married to me.”

“I know, but if people don’t want to be with you, can you force them to be?”

“Yes,” he said sharply. “You can. She’d change if she came back.”

I shook my head.

“I know her well,” he persisted.

“So do I. Would you let me say something? I do appreciate your seeing me. I do really.

It must seem like a dreadful impertinence... and it is in a way.”

“Why don’t you get on with it?”

I said, “Belinda went to the goldfields when she was little more than a child. She was fascinated by the strangeness of it, the novelty. She was happy there for a time, but she had been brought up here and she knew there was a different way of life. I don’t know what happened to your marriage. But it wasn’t exactly idyllic, was it?

I mean before all this. Hadn’t you agreed to part?”

“That was in a temper. I admit I’ve got one.”

“You agreed that you’d be better apart.”

He was silent and I continued. “She came over here,” I went on, “right to the other side of the world. All that had happened in Australia seemed remote to her. She put it out of her mind. She met this man. They fell in love and she married him.”

“How could she, when she was married to me?”

“She went through a form of marriage with him. He believes he is married to her.

She suits him... and he suits her. There is to be a child.”

“What? She didn’t say.”

“Think of it, Mr. Farrell. I believe you to be a kind and good man.”

He stared at me in amazement. “You don’t know me.”

“I’m a good judge of character and I’ve summed you up.” A faint smile touched his lips and my spirits rose a little. I believed that the mention of the child had had some effect on him.

I decided to press the point. “Think of the innocent child,” I said. “Are you going to let it be born with the stigma of illegitimacy?”

He continued to stare at me. “What’s that to do with me?” he demanded. “It’s her little bastard, ain’t it? Not mine. She’s married to me. That’s how it is.”

“I know. I know.”

“What is it you’re after?”

“I want to make it right for Belinda ... for all of you.”

“Why should you?”

“Because I care about her. You understand that. You care about her, too.”

He was silent.

I went on, “I know she’s treated you badly. She hasn’t always treated me well. But I am fond of her and I believe she has a chance of finding a way of life which will suit her.”

“Yes, Lady Da-de-da.”

“Maybe. But that is what she wants. If you forced her to go back it would be a life of misery for you both. And what about the child?”

“She could have that and leave it here.”

“Mr. Farrell, a mother does not leave her child.”

“Some of them do ... and I’ve a notion Belinda might be one of them ... if it suited her.”

“I don’t believe that would be so. Well, all right. Break up this happy home. Don’t consider the child at all. Be selfish. There’s a recipe for a happy life for you!”

He smiled at me slowly. “You talk like a lawyer! But, do you know, if I were in a spot of trouble, I’d like you to get me out of it.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I wish you’d take me seriously.”

“I like to hear you talk. Tell me some more. Tell me why she got you to come to me.”

“There is a way out of this,” I said.

“For her?” he asked, with a little quirk of his eyebrows denoting amusement.

“For her, for you and for everyone.”

“Yah?”

“Look. Your marriage is over, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not. It’s binding, ain’t it? You’re married... and it’s forever.”

“Unless you decided to break the bond.”

“Divorce, you mean?”

“I see it this way. There could be a quiet divorce and Belinda could be quickly married to Robert Denver afterward. It could all be done without too much fuss.”

“Divorce,” he repeated incredulously.

“You’ve reason to do this, surely?” I pointed out.

“Reason enough. But... divorce ...” He shook his head. “You’d never have any happiness together,” I pointed out. “What was between you is over.”

“Why should I do this for her, while she treats me as she has?”

“Are you vindictive?”

“What do you mean? I only want my rights.”

“Your rights? What is the good of those without affection, without love... ?”

“She was supposed to love me once.”

“She was a child.”

“She’s a selfish little she-devil.”

“Maybe, but she will not love you again. She would always hanker for a life she missed.

You’d be better off without her. You’ll probably find someone... out there ... someone you’ll love. You could have a wonderful family. In fact, I think that is what you will do.”

“Why should you think that?”

“Because you are a sensible, reasonable man... a good man at heart.” He burst out laughing. “You certainly know how to get round a chap. Do you know, I’m getting to like you, Lucie.”

“I’m glad, because I’m getting to like you, too.”

“I reckon you’re a good friend to her.”

“I know her well.”

“Then I’m surprised you’re doing all this for her.”

“There, you see! You’re better off without her.”

“No doubt of that.”

“Well, where’s the sense in coming here like this and trying to take her back with you?”

“Well, she’s Belinda, ain’t she? I don’t know what it is about her. She’s as selfish as they come. She’s no good to a chap like me. Yet I want her back. I do, really.”

“You could forget her.”

“I dunno about that.”

“You would, I’m sure. Suppose there was that nice person... loving, tender. Suppose you married and had a family ... you’d look back on this and tell yourself what a lucky escape you had had, Mr. Farrell.”

“Henry’s more friendly.”

“Well, Henry, consider this. I ask you very sincerely to think about it. There’s the child.”

“Yes,” he said pensively. “There’s the child.”

“Give her a chance. I really think she could be happy. I think she could make a fresh start. I expect she’s told you about her childhood.”

“A few things.”

“It was a strange thing to happen to a child. And she really wasn’t very happy with the man she thought was her father. He seemed to be against her from the first. That was not good for a child and it affected her. Here is a chance for her. Henry, do give it to her.”

He said nothing for a long time.

Then he remarked, “She’s treated me pretty bad. I don’t see why I should go out of my way to please her.”

“You could do it because you’d be happier that way.”

“Without her, you mean?”

I nodded.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“You could have your revenge, of course. But there’s never much to that. If you would let her go... Will you... will you think about it?”

He stretched out his hand suddenly and took mine. “Yes, Lucie,” he said. “To please you, I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, I’m so pleased you agree to that. I’m sure you’ll see it the right way. May I come and see you again when you have made up your mind?” He nodded.

“When... tomorrow?”

“You’re not giving me much time, are you?”

“I should love to know this was settled before I went back to the country.”

“I can’t promise. Just because you’ve been talking to me so easy and friendly ... well, that don’t mean that I ...”

“I know you will agree with me when you think about it.”

“Is there a saying... seem to remember my old Mum talking about... kissing the Blarney Stone?”

“Yes, there is.”

“Does it mean handing out the old flattery?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“I reckon you’ve given a good many kisses to that old stone.”

“No. It’s just that I’ve brought you face-to-face with the logical truth.”

He laughed at me. “How are you getting back, Lucie?” he asked.

“I’ll call a cab.”

“I’ll come and get you one.”

And that was what he did.

I rode back in a state of euphoria. I was certain we were going to win.

I went straight to Celeste’s house where Belinda was impatiently waiting for me.

She hurried me up to her bedroom.

“Well?”

“I think he might.”

“Might what?”

“Agree to the annulment ... to be carried out quietly.”

“Really! Oh, Lucie, you’re wonderful. I knew you’d do it. It’s that solemn air of yours... like a nanny or a school mistress.”

“He said I was like a lawyer.”

“Yes, that’s it. What did he say?”

“He said you’d treated him badly, which you have, of course.”

She put out the tip of her tongue-that old habit I remembered so well from her childhood.

“Yes, yes,” she said impatiently.

“I told him about the child.” I looked at her suspiciously. “There is a child, isn’t there?”

“Oh, I’m sure of it. It’s true. You don’t think I would have said so if it wasn’t, do you?”

“Yes,” I answered. “I do.”

“Well, what else?”

“I pointed out to him that if you went back to him, it wouldn’t be much of a life for him... and he agreed.”

“Oh, Lucie, you really are wonderful.”

“I’ve not finished yet. He’s only agreed to think about it.”

“Oh, but he’ll do it. He will. He must. What did you think of him?”

“A bit... rough... but good underneath. A nice man. I thought he didn’t deserve you.”

“No. He didn’t really. Poor old Henry. Do you really think... ?”

“All I can say is he promised to think about it.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. But I shall be seeing him tomorrow.”

“Oh good... good! And to think you might have been burned to death!”

“What a calamity-for then I shouldn’t have been able to arrange your affairs!”

“I didn’t mean it that way!”

“It was the first thought that occurred to you. However, I escaped and lived to see Mr. Henry Farrell.”

She hugged me fiercely.

I thought, how different from Phillida! How different from Roland! They really care for me. But, as I had said many times before, this was Belinda. I really was amazed at my success. It was because at heart Henry Farrell was really a very good young man.

I think it was the matter of the child which really swayed him. He was hurt and angry but he was shrewd enough to see that there could be no real happiness with Belinda. When I met him the next day in the lounge of the Bayswater hotel, he was waiting for me and he looked quite pleased to see me.

He did not tell me immediately what he intended to do, but I think I knew it from the start. He wanted to tease me a little at first; and I think he wanted to listen to further advocacy on my part.

I pleaded as I had before, bringing out the same arguments. He listened patiently and after a while he said, “How should we go about the divorce?” I told him I did not know, but I would find out.

“Everything would be taken good care of,” I said.

“Then I suppose she’d marry this lordship again.”

“She will marry Sir Robert Denver.”

“Does he agree to this?” *

“I don’t think he knows about it yet.”

“What?”

“She has to tell him.”

“What if he says no?”

“I can’t believe he will.”

“Mad about her, is he?”

“I think so.”

I had a moment of uneasiness then. I could see the memories in his eyes. Belinda had a powerful effect on men. There was Bobby who adored her and this young man had come from the other side of the world to pursue her.

I realized how fortunate I had been to be able to plead with him, for he was still hankering after her.

But he was no fool. He saw the point. The best way for everyone concerned was to end the marriage so that they could get on with their own lives. When we parted I had his promise that he would begin divorce proceedings against Belinda. The case would be undefended and with luck might not find its way into the newspapers.

Belinda was waiting for me when I returned triumphant.

“He’s going to do it,” I told her.

“You’re marvelous. I knew you could do it. Oh, Lucie, you were always my best friend.”

“Don’t forget this is only the beginning. The first thing you have to do is talk to Bobby.”

“I know,” she said gloomily.

“Then I think you should go back to him. If he lets you stay there that will make a blatant case of adultery. Let’s hope it can be kept quiet. It could be rather awkward for you, but you have to be prepared for that. After all, it is a small price to pay for all your misdemeanors.”

“I’ll do it, Lucie. I’ll go back right away. I’ll tell Bobby everything.”

“Let’s hope he will be as forgiving and indulgent as you think he will be.”

“Of course he will be. He adores me.”

Her gloom had completely vanished. Once again she was on the point of manipulating the lives of others to suit her purpose.

She left that day; and I spent another day and night in Welling Gardens.

Then Roland and I went back to Manorleigh.

Phillida vociferously expressed her pleasure at seeing us.

“Anyone would think we had been away for at least a month,” said Roland.

“I missed you so much. Both away at the same time! It’s wonderful to have you back. I want you to see your room. It looks quite different.

Roland... Lucie has told you ...” Her mood changed from joy to horror.

“Yes,” I said. “I told him about the fire.”

She turned to him, anguish in her eyes. “I think I should have died ... if anything had happened....”

“But it didn’t,” I said.

“It might have. Imagine it, Roland....”

“I am imagining it,” said Roland. “It doesn’t bear thinking of. But you must not be upset. It’s over. It didn’t happen. We were so lucky. Now let us have a look at the room.”

It did look different without the four-poster bed. It had been replaced by one in the Regency style and was plain in comparison with its predecessor; but it was very attractive and elegant.

“It makes the room look quite different,” I said.

“Less cluttered,” added Roland. “Well done, Phillida, it was a good choice.”

“I never want to see another bed curtain,” announced Phillida. She shivered. “They will always remind me.”

Roland put his arm through hers. “Stop brooding,” he commanded.

“I’m trying to, Roland.”

It was good to be home, and I was rather proud of the manner in which I had managed Belinda’s affairs.

I dismissed her from my mind. I need not think of her for a while and could devote myself to an existence which had become very pleasant to me. The peaceful atmosphere was disturbed when, the following morning, Mrs. Emery invited me to her room. I guessed there was trouble ahead when she brought out the canister of Darjeeling tea.

I soon heard what it was.

“The last thing I want to do, Miss Lucie, is speak out of turn,” she began, and proceeded immediately to do so. “I know she is the sister... but that’s a very different matter than being the mistress of the house, and it seems to me-and Emery is with me in this-that at times it would seem she thinks of herself as mistress of the house.”

“I am sure she does not, Mrs. Emery.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure she does.”

“What is worrying you, then?”

“About this bed. She carries on for all the world as though this is her place. I said to Emery, I said, ‘Is it for her to choose this bed? Is it for her to decide to get rid of the old one?’ That was a fine bed, that was. It’s been there since the year dot. I reckon it was worth a pretty penny. Yet she had it taken away. Goodness knows where it is now.”

“It was ruined by the fire and all that water which was poured on it.”

“Ruined, me foot. I reckon it could have been put right.”

“She was so upset about the fire, Mrs. Emery. She wanted to get rid of everything that would remind us. She had a point.”

“I should have thought it would be for the mistress of the house, Miss Lucie. Neither Mr. Emery nor I would say, ‘this has to go,’ or ‘that has to stay.’ That’s for the mistress. That’s what I don’t like. ‘What next?’ I say to Mr. Emery, and he just looks at me and says, ‘Aye, what next?’ “

“Well there won’t be any more beds to be got rid of, I hope. Mr. Fitzgerald and I are very satisfied with the replacement.”

“Well, that’s as may be. But it don’t seem right to me. But if you say so. And there’s something else.”

“Oh? What?”

“Well, prowling about. She’s been in the attic looking at the trunks and things ...”

“It’s an ancient house and it fascinates her, Mrs. Emery. She will be living here with us, you know, so it will be her home.”

“Well, frankly, that’s what I’m afraid of, Miss Lucie. Two ladies as mistress ... it don’t seem to work somehow.”

“Oh, it will, because she’s my sister-in-law and really a great friend of mine. I think she would be surprised if she thought she had given offense to you.”

“Well, all I wanted to say is that it wasn’t only being in the attics. She’s been prowling about the gardens... taking a rare interest in everything, talking to the servants... asking them questions about the ghost.”

“Did they mind?”

“Not them! They like that sort of thing. Makes them feel important. They seem to think something of her. But, of course, they’re an empty-headed lot, most of them. No thought for the house. But if you say it’s all right... What I don’t like is to see someone quiet and gentle being taken advantage of.”

“It’s kind of you, Mrs. Emery, but I don’t think that is what she intends. I am sure she would be very upset if she knew you were offended.” Mrs. Emery nodded in silence, but I could see by the vigorous manner in which she stirred her Darjeeling, that she did not agree with me.

A few days passed. I was wondering how Belinda was getting on. I imagined all must be going smoothly, otherwise I should have heard, for if she were succeeding she would forget all about me. It was only if she needed help that she would remember. I pictured her confessing to the complaisant Bobby. I was sure he would fall in with her wishes. They would employ the best lawyers and if Henry Farrell really would set the divorce in motion, there might not be too much delay. I hoped it could be completed with speed and secrecy before the child was born. It was difficult to imagine Belinda as a mother, but people often surprise one-particularly in this respect.

It had been a pleasant day. It was about a week after I had returned and we had slipped back into the old routine. I was always wondering when Roland would have to go back to London, for I supposed these visits would become a part of our daily lives. He had talked a little about the wool trade which was carried on in Yorkshire. I supposed I should accompany him when he went up North, which I realized he would have to do more frequently than he had been doing of late.

We had loitered at the table over dinner. We had been recalling our stay in France, and Phillida enlivened the conversation with her versions of one or two incidents which had befallen her. She told them in a breezy manner and they were usually concerned with some gaffe of hers.

We laughed a good deal, remembering.

Afterward we sat in the drawing room, talking idly. Phillida left first and said she was going to bed. Roland and I went up soon afterward. It had been a rather chilly evening and Mrs. Emery always ordered a fire to be lighted in the room when the temperature dropped a little. Now it gave a cozy aspect, throwing fire lit shadows on the walls.

“I think Phillida is getting over the shock of the fire, don’t you, Roland?” I said. “Oh, I do. But she really was very upset. She is so fond of you. As a matter of fact, I have not seen her so disturbed since our parents died. I don’t think she will ever really forget while she’s here. She doesn’t ever come into this room, does she?”

“I don’t think she does.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“Well, I suppose I’ve forgotten for the most part. It was over so quickly. I just woke... saw the flames... and within half an hour the fire was out. Besides, it looks different here now.”

“I wish Phillida was not so ... excitable.”

“It’s part of her charm. She is always so full of enthusiasm and energy. Everything she does and says has to be with that exuberance. She enjoys life.”

“And for that reason she can sometimes be too deeply affected by it.” Roland was in bed watching me. The last thing I did before joining him was draw back the curtains because we both liked to awake to daylight.

As I pulled them back I gazed down, as I always did, at the seat under the oak tree.

As I did so, a great shock ran through me. Someone was on the seat. I saw him clearly in the light of the stars and that which came from our lighted room.

He rose from the seat. He was wearing an opera hat and cloak. I stood there, as though petrified... unable to speak... unable to move. And as I did so he took off his hat and bowed. He looked straight at me. I could see clearly the widow’s peak on his forehead.

It was the same man whom I had seen from my window in the London house. It was my father’s murderer whom I had helped to send to the gallows. I heard Roland’s voice. “Lucie .. , Lucie... what’s wrong?”

I turned away from the window, sank into a chair and covered my face with my hands.

Roland was beside me. “What is it, Lucie? What’s the matter?”

“It... it’s down there.”

He went to the window.

“What... what is down there? What has frightened you?”

I got up and stood beside him. There was no one below.

“I saw him ... I saw him clearly. He was... just as he had been outside the house in London. It was Fergus O’Neill.”

“Fergus O’Neill,” he repeated the name blankly.

“The man who killed my father.”

“Lucie, be calm. Tell me exactly what you saw. Who was it you thought you saw down there?”

“It was Fergus O’Neill,” I repeated. “I gave evidence against him. I saw him before he killed my father. He was waiting outside the house for him ... I looked down and saw him the night before... and when he killed my father I recognized him.”

“Lucie, let’s try to see what this is all about. How could he be there? He was hanged, wasn’t he?”

I nodded.

“You think it was ... ?”

“I think he has come back to haunt me.”

“Oh no! You imagined it.”

“I didn’t. I saw him clearly. I wasn’t thinking of him. Why should I imagine him... now... here?”

“Come to bed. You’re all right now. There’s nothing to be afraid of here... with me.”

I lay in his arms while he talked to me, lovingly, soothingly. I poured out my fears to him, how I was afraid that I had condemned the wrong man. That was when I had seen him almost immediately afterward, standing in the street where I had seen him the night before he killed my father. It had worried me a great deal at the time, and then I had convinced myself that I was being foolish. Rebecca had said that I imagined I saw him and I had begun to believe her. But he was the man. There was no doubt of it. There was the distinctive way in which his hair grew... “I think you imagined it.”

“Why should I ... suddenly? I saw him clearly.”

“It’s this old place. There are stories about the ghosts here. Wasn’t there supposed to be someone who sat on that seat?”

I nodded.

“Well, that’s just the place where you would expect to see a ghost and with that on your mind ...”

“It wasn’t on my mind. I hadn’t thought of it for some time.”

“It couldn’t possibly be anything but imagination.”

“You don’t believe people can come back after death?”

“No,” he said emphatically.

“Even if that death was violent... even if someone had helped to send them to the gallows?”

“No. I don’t believe it, nor must you. You were tired and images from the past came into your mind. You say you saw him before... the murder. Well, that image must have been somewhere in your mind. You were sleepy, and there has been all that talk about the garden being haunted. The picture came into your mind and you thought you saw it.”

“You make it all seem so reasonable ... so logical.”

“There must be a logical reason for everything, Lucie, but sometimes it’s hard to find.”

“You’re making me feel so much better, Roland.”

“Then I am glad, my dearest.”

He had taken a lock of my hair and was twirling it in his fingers. He said gently, “I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you always from all the ghosts on earth.” I lay against him, drawing comfort. I supposed I had imagined it. But I could not think why, for I had not thought of the man for a long time. Roland said suddenly, “It’s still on your mind, isn’t it? This proves it. Do you know, I think we ought to get away from here.”

“Get away!”

“I have been thinking of this for some time. You see, this is your house. You are my wife now and I think we ought to have a home of our own-provided by me.”

“I couldn’t give up Manor Grange.”

“You could come back to it, but you need not be here all the time. However, it is something we could think about. Naturally we don’t want to rush into anything. You see, it’s a little complicated. I should be nearer Bradford. I have not been up there much lately... well, meeting you, and getting married... It’s made a difference. But now we are settled, I ought to be there a little more for business reasons. It could mean long separations if I don’t do something about it and I wouldn’t want that. I hope you wouldn’t either.”

“Of course I shouldn’t.”

“So... I’ve been thinking ... I ought to get a place... provide you with a home. It’s what I want to do, Lucie.”

“You mean ... we should live there... mostly?”

“Not necessarily. We’d keep the pied-à-terre for when we were in London... which would be of ten, of course.... And you’d have Manor Grange. I know that’s essential. You feel sentimental about the servants. But this is what I’ve had in mind for some time. The fact is, Lucie, I don’t think this place is good for you. There are too many associations... and tonight has made me feel the matter is urgent. Do think about it.”

“I can’t say, Roland. Manor Grange has always been a home to me... much more than the London house.”

“But this ghost ...”

“It’s true I’ve always heard the place was haunted, but by benevolent ghosts ... a loving mother come back to be with her daughter. It was very different from what I saw ... or thought I saw... tonight.”

“I have wanted to talk to you about it all so much, Lucie. But I did know that you had suffered a terrible shock. That sort of thing has its effect. Even when you think it is behind you, it can leap out and confront you. You married me... and I thought a different way of life would make you forget. But here... you are with a part of the old days. You can’t forget here.”

“And you think ... if we went away... ?”

“I do. I don’t want to rush it. We could rent a place... while we looked round to find something just what you wanted, somewhere where you could get right away from everything that has happened. And as I shall have to be in Yorkshire... well, perhaps we could look for a place near Bradford. Give it a try, Lucie. I think it is the answer.”

I wondered if he were right. He could well be. I had so looked forward to being at Manor Grange, but it had not been quite what I had hoped for; and I could see that Mrs. Emery had taken a dislike to Phillida... and after what I had seen ... or imagined I saw ... in the garden... perhaps we should find somewhere. I was not really sure what I wanted.

I said, “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Of course,” he answered, kissing me. “It was insensitive of me to bring it up now.

It just came out, I’m afraid.”

“It was kind and thoughtful of you. You are always kind and thoughtful. I expect you’re right. I expect it is this house and the talk of ghosts... and all the memories of my father, of course.”

“Yes,” he said. “Just let’s brood on this idea of the house.”

It was a long time before I slept and when I did I had a nightmare. I was going to look at a house with a prospect of buying it. I entered an old place. It was just like Manor Grange and as I stood in the hall a figure came down the stairs. He was dressed in an opera hat and black cloak and, as he bowed, taking off his hat, I saw how the hair grew to a peak on his forehead. I noticed the white scar on his cheek. I awoke screaming. Roland held me tightly, comforting me.

I slept late next morning and was awakened by Phillida at my bedside.

“Lucie,” she said gently. “You’ve had a bad night. Roland told me about it.” I started up and my gaze went to the window. She followed it and I knew that when she said “Roland told me,” she meant that he had told her everything about my hallucination, as he would call it.

“I think you should rest this morning,” she went on. “I’m going to prop you up and you’ll feel better when you’ve eaten. I’ve brought your breakfast. I prepared it myself... coffee... toast and marmalade and a lightly boiled egg.”

“Oh, Phillida, there’s no need. I’m all right.”

“No, you’re not.” She could be forceful. I could see what Mrs. Emery objected to. And there would be trouble about her preparing my breakfast. Mrs. Emery was probably at this moment stating that some people did not seem to know that in a house like this it was the servants who prepared breakfasts.

Phillida insisted on propping me up with pillows and proudly she set the tray before me. Oddly enough, although I did not feel hungry, I found myself almost absentmindedly eating what she had brought. But I did feel a little better. It was surprising what daylight does for fancies. Of course, I was telling myself, I had imagined it. It was an image lodged in the back of my mind and it came out from time to time. It was significant that I had thought I saw him on the haunted seat. “That’s better,” she said. “I’m sorry, Lucie. Roland did tell me. I hope you didn’t mind. He was so worried. He wanted advice.”

“I think I must have been overwrought-though I don’t know why. I was tired, of course.”

“I think it is the talk about ghostly revenants in this house.”

“Is there such talk now?”

“Yes, among the servants. Lady Somebody... long since dead ... is said to come back... and she still seems to be hanging around... according to them.”

“I hadn’t been thinking of that. But I was here so much with Celeste and my father.”

“That’s it, you see. It’s all to do with this shocking business. Roland and I have been thinking seriously about getting away.”

“He mentioned it last night.”

“Well, you see, he has neglected things in Yorkshire quite a bit lately. He really needs to have a place near Bradford.”

“He told me that.”

“This is a lovely house. Don’t think we don’t enjoy being here... immensely. But Roland says it’s living on your bounty. Well, you know what men are. They like to feel that they are the providers.”

“I understand all that.”

“I’m so glad you do. He knows how you feel about this house. You never want to let it go. Roland said something about it’s being in trust ...”

“I’m not sure whether that applies to the house, but it does to everything else.”

“Well, I don’t understand these matters. But I do know how you feel about this place... and you wouldn’t want to upset the all-important Mrs. Emery.” She grimaced. “I’ve got on the wrong side of her somehow. I think that could be straightened out in time though.”

“I’m sure it could.”

“In any case, at the moment she would be rather pleased to see me gone. I know what it is. She feels we are living at your expense. We understand it ... in a way. Do you think we should be more comfortable... somewhere else? Roland’s idea is for you to choose a house... somewhere near Bradford. What do you think?”

“I should keep Manor Grange, whatever happened. You do realize that?”

“Of course. It will be a place to visit often. Then we shall be coming to London for short stays. I’m sure that would placate Mrs. Emery.”

“She likes the house to be full of visitors. When my father was alive ...”

Phillida put her fingers to her lips and shook her head at me. “Well,” she said.

“What do you think? There’d be no harm in looking around.”

“I suppose not.”

“It’s really rather exciting. I love looking at houses, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do think it is rather fascinating.”

“Perhaps you would like a modern place... somewhere where nobody ... or very few people have lived before, so that no secrets or ghosts are left behind.”

“I don’t know. I’ve always loved old houses.”

“Well, won’t it be fun to look? Roland says he wants you to make the choice. He was so worried about you last night.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s downstairs. He’s had a letter from Bradford. They want him to go up next week. He’s rather upset about it. I think he’ll want to take you with him. I shall go, of course. I’ll have things to do there and he wouldn’t want to leave you in this place without us.”

“He is kind and thoughtful... always.”

“Well, he’s your husband, isn’t he? And I love you too, Lucie. I keep thinking of that awful night... and what might have happened. Why, of course! It’s the shock of that.”

“What do you mean?”

“What happened that night.”

“You mean that fire? It has nothing to do with that.”

“But it happened in this house. It could have been... oh, I can’t say it. It was the shock. Shock has strange effects. You did not seem so very upset on the surface. Your feelings have been driven inward and have manifested themselves in this vision in the garden.”

“It sounds a little contrived to me,” I said, and found that I could laugh. Phillida was laughing with me. “You are laughing at me really. You and Roland are a pair. Roland always laughs at me and my wild antics, as he calls them. But I do think that might be a good and reasonable explanation of your vision last night.” She was earnest suddenly. “I am going to look after you, Lucie... just as I have looked after Roland. And the more I think of getting away from this place, the more I believe it to be the right answer.”

She surveyed the breakfast tray with pleasure, for I had eaten everything.

“I feel perfectly all right now,” I said. “I am going to get up.”

She kissed me lightly on the forehead.

“Thank you, Phillida,” I went on.

“Don’t you worry,” she said. “Roland and I are here with you. We are the magnificent triumvirate. We’ll stand together and beat all the hobgoblins in England if need be.”

She had certainly succeeded in banishing the horrors of the previous night, if not completely, which would have been impossible, to some extent. Over the next few days there was a great deal of talk about looking for a house in Yorkshire. I felt a certain enthusiasm for the project. I could not cast off the memory of what I had seen. Every night before I went to bed, I would go to the window and look out, half-expecting to see the man or ghost-whatever it was-sitting there. There would be a rush of panic as I approached the window and an intense relief when I saw the seat was empty.

I would go to it by day and sit there, thinking. The past was back with him. I could not stop thinking of the night when I had waited for my father to come home from the House, when he had stayed the night with the Greenhams, so giving himself a few more hours of life. I thought of the following day, when I had looked straight at that man after he had fired the shot which killed my father. I was back in the past. It would never be completely gone... not until I knew the truth-whether there were two men with widow’s peaks and scarred cheeks, whether the figure which haunted me was indeed a man or an image conjured up out of my tortured imagination.

But if I had condemned an innocent man and the real murderer still lived to taunt me, how could he have come to Manor Grange? How could he have sat there on the haunted seat?

The most likely explanation was, of course, that I had imagined what I saw. I had been far more shocked than I had realized at the time it happened; and the episode of the fire must have affected me more than I imagined.

These thoughts obsessed me during the next few days; and then another shock awaited me.

The local newspaper was always available during the morning; and I took my copy and went into the garden to glance through it. Boldly I went to the haunted seat and, sitting down, began to read. There were the usual local matters ... an account of a wedding and two funerals. People were more interested in their immediate circle than in the whole wide world.

Then a paragraph caught my eye, and my heart began to hammer as I read. It was brief and to the point:

The Members of Parliament, Mr. James Hunter and Mr. Joel Greenham, are on their way back to England. It will be remembered that they were taking part in a mission to Buganda. When returning to their hotel one night the two gentlemen disappeared and were thought to have been robbed and murdered by thieves. In fact, they were kidnapped and have spent several months in captivity. Their release has now been secured and they are on their way back to England to be reunited with their families.

I read the paragraph through several times. Was I dreaming? Was this another hallucination?

Could Joel really be alive? I went up to the bedroom. I was thankful that I did not Meet anyone. I could only say to myself: Joel has come home. He is really alive. Memories of him kept flashing into my mind. I had loved him for so long ... all my life, it seemed. News of his death, following so close on that of my father, had completely stunned me. I had been lonely and lost.

I could not believe this. Joel alive! Coming home!

What would that mean to me? I was married now. I felt a terrible anguish; and it seemed as though a burden of sadness and despair was settling upon me. Joel coming home... and I was married to Roland Fitzgerald! I loved Roland, I told myself. He was a good husband to me. When had he ever been anything but kind and considerate?

But... Joel was coming home. We had promised that we would love each other forever... and I had married Roland.

I was numbed by the shock. Roland and Phillida noticed. They noticed everything, I thought, a little resentfully. They believed that what they called my hallucination had shocked me more than they had first thought. Phillida was busy with her remedies. In addition to the nightcap she was bringing me some herbal drink.

She said, “When we are next in London together, I’ll take you to the health shop.

They have just about everything to promote good health.”

They were talking a great deal about the house Roland was proposing to buy in Yorkshire. Phillida knew exactly how many rooms we should need. She chattered constantly about it. I let her run on. I did not wish her to guess at my indifference. I was wondering where Joel was now. Coming home, they said. There would be more about it in the London papers. I wished that I were there.

What was he thinking? He would be remembering me, believing that I was waiting for him ... as we had promised we would. That seemed years ago. So much had happened since.

The trip to Yorkshire dominated Roland’s and Phillida’s conversation. I was only half listening to what they said.

I did hear Roland say, “I thought we might rent a house for a month or so to give you a chance to look round. We don’t want to commit ourselves until we’re sure.”

“What an excellent idea!” cried Phillida.

“Does that appeal to you, Lucie?”

“Oh, yes... yes ... I suppose it’s a good idea.”

“You do think so?” pressed Roland.

“Of course she does,” Phillida answered for me.

“I think we should go next week. I really need to go, and it would be an excellent opportunity.”

“I’m so looking forward to it,” added Phillida. “House-hunting is such fun, isn’t it, Lucie?”

“Oh, yes.”

“The moors are noted for their beauty,” said Phillida. “I think somewhere close to the moors would be nice. Not too isolated, of course. Then there are those wonderful old abbeys ...Fountains and Rievaulx. Ruins, of course. Henry VIII, wasn’t it? What a dreadful thing to do! But the ruins are really fascinating. Next week, you said, Roland? I really can’t wait.”

I wanted to shout at them: stop talking about houses in Yorkshire! I wanted to tell them: Joel’s coming home. I can’t think about anything else. There was a letter from Belinda next day.

Dear Lucie,

Bobby and I are coming to London. We do want to see you. Everything is going to be all right now. I told him what you did. Bobby, the darling, does understand. He thinks you’re wonderful. Both of us do want to see you. We shall be staying with Celeste who is not very well. I think she is a little lonely.

So come up and be with us for a few days. You really must. Celeste would love to see you.

Love from Belinda

But next week I shall be looking at houses... houses which don’t interest me, because Joel is coming home and I am beginning to wonder what I have done with my life.

Since I had read that paragraph about Joel, I had forgotten to look for the man on the haunted seat before I went to bed. The thought of Joel’s return had closed my mind to everything else.

The idea came to me suddenly in the night. I would not go to Yorkshire with them. I had little interest in houses. I wanted to go to London. I must know what was happening about Joel. It was too frustrating to be without news.

I decided to be a little devious.

I said, “I’ve heard from Belinda. She’s coming to London and she thinks Celeste is not well.”

“Oh dear,” said Roland, all concern. He was always very sympathetic to others.

“Belinda thinks I should go to London to see Celeste.”

“You could go after we have got back from Yorkshire,” suggested Roland. “I ... I don’t think I could really be happy if I thought she were ill and I wasn’t on the spot.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know. But I feel I must go up to London and find out.”

“When?” asked Phillida.

“Well... now. I don’t want to wait until she is really ill.”

“Is it as bad as that?”

“Belinda... suggested ...” I trailed off. I was thinking, why should I have to make these explanations, tell them half truths... just because I don’t want to go with them, because I must find out all I can about Joel? I went on firmly, “I think it would be a good idea if you two went to Yorkshire.

After all, it’s your native country. You know a great deal about it. I know nothing.”

“But you were excited about looking for a house,” said Roland.

“Well, you are not going to find it in a day or so. Why don’t you two go ... and if you find something I can come and look at it later. But it is going to take some time... and I shall be worrying about Celeste.”

“It will spoil everything,” said Phillida with a little pout. Roland said gently, “I understand how Lucie feels. She would be thinking of Celeste all the time.”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” I said gratefully.

“Then, my dear Lucie, you must do as you wish. Phillida and I will go to Yorkshire. We’ll look round, and then, if something seems possible, we’ll get you to come down and inspect it. We won’t decide anything without you, rest assured.” I smiled at him warmly. He really was very kind and always understanding. I felt a sense of shame, but at the same time, I was immensely relieved. I could not speak to them of Joel. I was wondering whether I should see him; and had no idea what his reaction toward me would be ... if I did.

Thus it was that I found myself on the train speeding to London. The cab took me to the house and there was Celeste waiting for me.

She rushed at me and hugged me.

“How lovely that you are here!”

“Belinda said that you were unwell so I had to come.”

“Belinda’s exaggerating.”

“I’m so glad. When does she arrive?”

“Tomorrow. I’m glad you came a day ahead. It gives us a chance to chat awhile. Where is Roland?”

“On his way to Yorkshire with Phillida. Celeste ... I saw a piece in the paper ... about Joel.”

“Oh, yes, there has been quite a lot in the London papers. They didn’t make it headline news though. I suppose they’ll wait until he gets home for that.”

“When is he coming home?”

“It must be soon now, I imagine.”

“Did you hear what happened?”

“No. I did think of calling on the Greenhams but I didn’t. They were so odd at the time of his disappearance that I have seen very little of them since.”

“I thought there might be some news up here.”

“The press is being unusually secretive about it. I should have thought it would have made a good story. MPs kidnapped and held all this time ...”

“Was a ransom paid?”

“I know nothing more than what I have read in the papers.”

“I wonder when he’ll be home.”

“It can’t be the same... can it? I mean, between you two.... You’re married now.”

“I was told he was dead, Celeste.”

She was looking at me in some alarm.

“But you are very happily married. Roland is so good, isn’t he? Poor Joel. Perhaps you ought not to see him. Perhaps I should explain.”

“I want to see him, Celeste, I want to explain.”

“If you think it wise. Of course ... he may have changed.”

“It’s not really so long ago, Celeste.”

“But you are a married woman now.”

I nodded and turned away.

“How long will Roland and Phillida be in Yorkshire?” she asked.

“I don’t know exactly. They’re looking for a house.”

“A house? Right up there?”

“It’s where Roland’s main business is. It is more their home than the South is. Roland wants to buy a house. I think he feels that Manor Grange is mine and he wants to provide a home for us.”

She nodded. “That’s natural enough,” she said. “But what about Manor Grange? Are you going to sell it?”

“I’m not sure that I could even if I wanted to. All that business about the trust.

I don’t know what it entails. I didn’t listen much at the time.”

“We were too shocked, weren’t we? I suppose the trustees would have to agree to the sale. I’m no more sure than you are.”

“I wouldn’t sell in any case. Think of the Emerys.”

“I see. But if you are living in Yorkshire ...”

“I shall come South quite a lot. I shall come to see you and Belinda. I couldn’t be quite cut off.”

“Well, you can always come here when you want to be in London... and then you’ll have Manor Grange if you want to stay there. Perhaps it’s not such a bad idea. So they will be looking, and if they find something... ?”

“I shall go up and see what it’s like and if the three of us are agreed... well then, I suppose Roland will buy it.”

“Very exciting!” said Celeste. “It’s wonderful to have you here.” She had put me in my old room; and that night, when I went to bed I could not resist going to the window. I stared at the railings of the garden square, half-expecting to see him there.

But the street was quite deserted.

Belinda came the following day. She was brimming over with excitement. Bobby was with her; he looked only slightly less jubilant than he had appeared on his wedding day. I imagined how shocked and horrified he must have been on hearing Belinda’s confession; but she had managed to convince him that all would be well and it seemed he believed her.

She was soon in my room for a chat.

“It’s working,” she said. “Bobby’s being an absolute pet and Henry is behaving almost like a gentleman, which I never believed he would.”

“Which means he is doing exactly what you want?”

She laughed. “Same old Lucie!” Her tongue protruded in the old way. “It’s going to take a little time. Why do people always have to hang about so? Why can’t they get on with things? I don’t know why there has to be all this delay. But it is going to be done without fuss... and we’re hoping very few people will hear about it. So soon Bobby and I will be well and truly married... and we’ll never forget the part you played in this, Lucie.”

“I only did the obvious thing. There was, after all, only one solution for you.”

“But Henry could have turned nasty. He liked you a lot. He thinks you’re sensible.

He hated doing it but he could see it was no use trying to make me go back with him. Besides, there’s the baby.”

“You think that decided him?”

Belinda patted her stomach. “Dear little baby,” she said. “He’ll be strong and powerful.

Look what he is able to achieve merely by being here!”

I thought then that there was something rare in the way she was able to shift her troubles onto the shoulders of others and had an implicit belief that everything must come right for her and in some miraculous way, it did. Suddenly she said, “Joel Greenham is coming home. I saw it in the paper.” She looked at me quizzically. “He used to be a rather special friend of yours.”

“Fancy your remembering!” I said with faint sarcasm.

“Of course I remembered! It was quite exciting, and once you were going to marry him. And now he’s coming home!” She was watching me, her eyes sparkling. “He was kidnapped,” she went on. “He’ll soon be here.”

“Yes, I suppose he will.”

“Don’t try to pretend to me that you’re indifferent.”

“I wasn’t trying to pretend anything. Of course I’m not indifferent. They thought he was dead. It’s wonderful that he isn’t... and is coming home.” She nodded and I could see that she was contemplating all sorts of possibilities. So, in fact, was I. My thoughts were in a turmoil as they had been ever since I had read that paragraph. I was longing to see Joel and I was more than a little afraid. Another day passed. Celeste was certainly pleased to have us there. Her trouble was loneliness. Belinda was amazingly unperturbed about her affairs. She had clearly convinced herself that everything would soon be in order; as for Bobby, I think he was a little bewildered but was clearly still deeply in love with Belinda and certainly thrilled at the prospect of the baby.

I admired Belinda in a way. I wished I could bring the same attitude to my affairs that she did to hers.

I constantly scanned the papers for news. There was none.

Belinda said she wanted to do some shopping while she was in town. “It’s for the baby,” she explained. “Lucie, I want you to come with me.” So I went with her. She shopped as much for herself as the baby; and when we returned home, I thought Celeste looked a little excited.

When I was alone with her, she said, “Joel has been here. He’s very upset.”

“He came to see me?” I asked.

“Yes. His parents had told him that you were married but he thought he must have the news from you. When I told him that you were actually in London, he asked a lot of questions. He looked different, Lucie... older.”

“I suppose we all do, and what happened is bound to have affected him.”

“He knew about your father, of course. He said he must get in touch with you.” She looked at me anxiously.

“I suppose he would want to talk,” I said.

“He left a note for you.”

“A note? Where is it?”

“I have it here.”

She put her hand into the pocket of her dress and brought it out almost reluctantly.

I seized on it.

“Thank you, Celeste.”

I had to get away to discover what he had written. I went up to my room, sat on the bed and slit the envelope.

“Dear Lucie,” I read,

I want to see you. I could not believe that you are married. My parents told me first. They explained so much. But I have to see you soon. Could we meet tomorrow? Shall we say by the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens at half past ten? Do come. I shall be there.

Joel

I must go, of course. I had to see him. I had to explain. It was hard to live through the rest of the day. Time passed with maddening slowness. I was thankful that Belinda was so self-absorbed that she did not notice my mood.

The night which followed was a restless one for me; but it passed, and then I was walking across the Gardens to the Round Pond where Joel and I had met so often during our childhood. That was why it must have occurred to him that we should meet there. It was a bright day. Several children were sailing their little white boats on the Pond while vigilant nannies stood by.

And there was Joel. He had seen me and was striding toward me. He put his arms about me and held me close to him for a few seconds. Then he released me and looked into my face, I saw the anguish in his eyes and it matched my own. He took me by the elbows and continued to gaze at me.

“Lucie ...” he began.

“Oh, Joel,” I said. “I never thought to see you again.”

I knew then what a mistake I had made. I knew that he was and always would be the only one I really loved. I knew that I would never be really happy again. His eyes darkened as he muttered, “How could you?”

“I have to explain.”

“Let’s get away from here. Let’s find somewhere quiet where we can talk.” He took my arm and we walked rapidly away from the Pond toward the path where flowers grew on either side. We turned off to a patch of grass. There was a seat under one of the trees and he led me to it.

When we were seated he turned to me and said, “How could it have happened?”

“They told me you were dead,” I answered. “It was unbearable... after my father ...”

“I know what happened to your father... and then they told you... what did they tell you?”

“That you had been set upon by thieves after you left a meeting and were on your way to your hotel. You were missing, they said. And after a time we heard that your body had been discovered. You had been murdered, they said, you and James Hunter.”

“They should have told you the truth,” he said. “I would not have undertaken it if I had known they would not tell you.”

“The truth?” I cried.

He said, “It is true that I went out on this mission with my fellow Members of Parliament.

It was only when I was over there that the proposition was put to Hunter and me. We were younger than the others and more physically capable if the need arose. We had both done a little of this sort of work before and we were told that we had been selected to join the party because there was a need to carry out a little secret work... very secret. You know Buganda has recently become a British Protectorate, and in such cases there are always pockets of resistance to change in some quarters. There was a plot against the British brewing and Hunter and I were to discover the leaders of the proposed insurrection. It was necessary, of course, that they should be unaware of our intentions, and because of that we had to cast off our identities as Members of Parliament. We had to work in the utmost secrecy. Because we were Members of Parliament we should immediately be objects of suspicion to those we were meant to track down. So ... we were kidnapped, not by thieves, but by our own agents. Then we were made aware of what we had to do. It was given out that we were missing and later that we had been murdered. I did stipulate that my family and my fiancée must be told the truth. My father, as a well-known public man, could be trusted and this was conceded.”

“Your father did not tell me.”

“He decided you were too young to be trusted with such a secret. We were not officially engaged. He said that I had no fiancée; and a little word... even a look... could have betrayed the secret and perhaps cost us our lives. You must forgive him, Lucie. He was afraid for me.”

“He need not have been.”

“I know... but he was.”

“I went to see your parents. Your father was strange... aloof....”

He nodded.

“Oh, Joel ... if only I had known!”

“It seems as though fate was against us. And you, Lucie... you married that man.”

“I was bewildered... lonely. Rebecca... and everyone advised me. I had to start a new life, they said. It was too much... losing my father... and you. You see ... I was there with my father when it happened. I actually saw the man who did it. I saw the gun. I saw him fall. I saw everything. Then there was the trial ... and I was the one ... I was the one whose evidence condemned that man. And then, I lost you, too. I went to France with Belinda and Jean Pascal Bourdon. He is her father, you know. They all thought it would be good for me to get away... and on the boat I met the Fitzgeralds: Phillida and Roland ...”

“And you married Roland.”

“They were so good to me. He is good to me. He did a great deal to help. I felt I was becoming reconciled ...”

“Where is he now?”

“In Yorkshire. We are going to have a house there ... to be near Bradford where his business is. It’s the wool trade.”

“And you stopped caring for me.”

“I tried to ... but I didn’t succeed. I would always have remembered. But I could have been happy in a way with Roland, because he has always been so kind and understanding. But I could never forget you, and I can never forget what happened to my father.

I have been tormented by a terrible fear.”

“Tell me about it.”

“It is this man who murdered my father.”

“This Fergus O’Neill.”

“You knew of him?”

“He was a terrorist... not unknown in this country. The authorities here were aware of him. He was under observation. That was why it was so easy to pick him up. He had been involved in other cases and had nearly been caught on several occasions.”

“So you know of these things?”

“Well, I’ve done a little work... similar to that I was doing in Buganda. This Irish trouble has gone on for years. Who was it who said, ‘You can’t solve the Irish question, because if you did they would only find another question’? It’s been the case since before Cromwell’s days. It looks as though it will always be there, no matter what happened. I don’t think you need have any qualms about that man. Helping to convict him you have probably saved many lives.”

“There is one thing, Joel. Oh, it is so easy to talk to you. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone like this-except Rebecca since you went away.” He pressed my hand and I went on, “The night before my father was killed, I saw a man waiting on the other side of the road, watching the house. I saw him from my window. His hat blew off and I saw that he had a decided peak where the hair grew low on his forehead and there was a white scar on his cheek.”

“That’s Fergus O’Neill. That distinctive hairline was always against him. It made him so easily recognizable.”

“Joel, I saw that man standing on the same spot. It was after he had been executed.”

“How could that be?”

“That’s what I wonder. Was there another just like him? Had I helped to convict the wrong man?”

“You were in an overwrought state. Do you think you imagined this?”

“That is what they say. Rebecca said that was the answer and I came to believe it.

But ... it happened again.”

“At the same spot?”

“No. At Manor Grange.”

“Manor Grange?”

“Yes... only a few nights ago. You remember the Grange... the haunted seat?”

“Yes,” he said.

“I looked out of the window. The man was sitting there. As I looked he rose and bowed to me. I saw his hair... clearly. I saw the scar on his cheek.”

“No!”

“I swear I did.”

“You must have imagined it. Did anyone else see it?”

“No.”

“You were alone then?”

“Roland was with me. He came to the window... and there was no one there.”

“It’s very odd.”

“I know what you are going to say. It is what everyone says, I imagined it.”

“How could it have been otherwise? Just suppose it was Fergus O’Neill and he had a twin brother who looked exactly like him. Either the wrong brother had been hanged or, if there was no brother, Fergus himself had come back from the grave to haunt you. That’s the only logical explanation. I could understand something like this if it were in London. But how would he come down to Manorleigh... change into his opera cloak and hat... walk from the station? It just doesn’t make sense.”

“No. I think it was that which finally decided Roland that we must get away.”

“And you propose to go to Yorkshire?”

“They are looking for a house. I was going with them, but when I heard that you were back I had to come here.”

He took my hand and held it fast. “Lucie,” he said, “what are we going to do?”

“What can we do?”

“We could drop everything... and go away.”

I shook my head.

“You mean you are going to stay with him?”

“I married him.”

“Is that absolutely irrevocable?”

“I think so, Joel.”

“Then what is there for us?”

“For you a great career in politics. This affair of the kidnapping could turn out to be good for you in the long run. My father would have said so.”

“How can it be called good for me if it has lost me you?”

“You will recover from that. You will have a great career in Parliament.”

“I came back for you. I am not going to stand by and accept what has been dealt out to me.”

“We have to. I married Roland-because it seemed the best thing for me at the time. It was selfish perhaps. I didn’t think I was using him, because I thought I had lost the one I really cared for. But I suppose I was. I took that step and there isn’t any turning back. Joel, you will have to forget me. I think we should not see each other again. You must go on with your career. It will be a brilliant one. My father always thought highly of you and he knew. We wanted so much to be together ... we planned to be together... but fate decided otherwise. We have to accept what is, Joel.”

“I don’t,” he said. “I can never forget what we planned together... what should have been. You should have waited for me, Lucie.”

“If only I had known! How wonderful it would have been. I loved my father dearly, you know. I was staggering from that blow when I was dealt the other. I had lost you both... the two I cared most for ... the two who cared the most about me. I was bereft. I had to make a new start. Everyone said so. I had to grow away from so much tragedy... and when Roland came along he seemed to offer a way out.”

“Now that you tell me, I understand. And Roland... you are fond of him, are you?”

“I like him very much. He is a good man. He has always been kind and tender to me.”

He winced. “I want to know more about him,” he said.

“He is devoted to his sister Phillida. She, too, has been a good friend to me. Yes, I am fond of them both. Roland has an office in London. He doesn’t seem to work very much. Now and then he has to go to Yorkshire... but he has been mainly in London.”

“And you were in France together?”

“Yes, for just over a month.”

“Where is his office?”

“I have never been to it. I think he mentioned Marcus Court... somewhere in the City.”

“I see... and does he have a place in Yorkshire?”

“No. They call the London house a pied-à-terre, but there isn’t a house in Yorkshire now. That’s why he and Phillida are there. They are looking for a suitable place to buy and then we were all going to live there.”

“I see. So you intend to abandon Manor Grange?”

“Oh, no. I shall keep it. Roland did suggest selling it after the fire.”

“Fire?”

I told him what had happened and he looked very concerned.

“You might have been burned to death!”

“That’s what they said at the time. But it woke me immediately. I was in no real danger.”

He was staring straight ahead.

I said, “I suppose we should go. They’ll be wondering where I am.”

“Not yet,” he said.

We were silent for a few moments. Then he said, “We could leave everything. We could go away together.”

“I couldn’t do it, Joel. I couldn’t do that to Roland.”

“So you really do care for him.”

“It wouldn’t be right. He has done so much for me. When I needed help he was there. I’ve got to accept what happened, Joel, and so have you. What you are suggesting is wrong. I have the temptation... just as you have. It’s what I want ... to be with you always... but it can’t be. You’ve got to go on and become a prominent politician... and I have to go on being Roland’s wife.”

“All the time I have been away I have been thinking of coming home to you,” he said. “It makes me happy to hear you say that, Joel, but at the same time I am desperately sad because it cannot be. You must continue with your career. I shall go to Yorkshire. It is the only thing we can do.”

“I won’t accept that,” he said.

“You must.”

We sat for a few moments and then I rose.

“Joel, I must go now.”

He said nothing and we walked soberly back to the house.

No sooner was I in my room than Belinda was there.

“You’ve been out with Joel Greenham,” she accused.

“How did you know?”

“I saw you come along the street with him. I saw him take your hand and kiss it.

Oh, Lucie, you look so sad. Are you in love with him?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“How like you! It helps to talk, you know. I might be able to help.”

“You? How?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I would do anything to help you. So would Bobby. Think what you did for us. Are you going to leave Roland and go off with Joel?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Is it absurd? You only married Roland because you thought Joel was dead. Now here he is ... returned from the grave... and it is obvious how you feel about each other.”

“Is it?”

“The blind would be aware of it.”

“Belinda, leave me in peace.”

She came to me and kissed me. She was surprisingly tender. “I know you think I’m a selfish beast, but I do love you, Lucie. I want to pay you all I owe you. I will one day, you’ll see.”

“Thank you, Belinda. But the best thing you can do for me now is to leave me in peace.”

She went out ruefully, and I continued to brood. To go away with him? What would that mean? An end to his career for one thing, for there would be a great scandal, of course. Scandals had impaired my father’s career and he was not the only one in the family who had suffered in that way. Joel’s heart was in politics and, I supposed, in those secret missions which he undertook from time to time. And myself? How could I hurt Roland who loved me? I knew he did. He was quiet and gentle, but with such people love went deep. How could I deal him such a blow?

And the alternative? To go on as we were. I must say goodbye to real happiness. All through my life I must be prepared to accept a compromise ... a second best. Temptation came. Go to Joel... forget everything else. We had been cheated of our life together. Joel wanted us to take it ... and so did I. But whatever I did, there could not be unalloyed happiness.

If I went with Joel, I should always remember Roland. I would never be able to forget his kind, patient eyes. I could picture his misery when he learned of my defection. Yet on the other hand if I went back to Roland, I would always remember Joel. He would never be out of my thoughts. Whichever way I turned, I could never be truly happy.

I saw Joel again. He came to the house. He was determined to see me, to plead with me.

I met him once more in the Gardens and we sat on the same seat and talked. He asked a lot of questions about Roland and his sister. I explained how close they were, how their parents had been killed in a railway accident and how they had looked after each other ever since. He asked about the wool business. There was so little I could tell him. When I was in Yorkshire I should surely learn more about it. I was not very interested. I could think of nothing but what I was missing; and I was telling myself that I must not meet Joel again lest I found the temptation, to let everything go and be with him, irresistible.

I had been in London for a week and I was thinking that I must go back. Very soon now Bobby and Belinda would be leaving. Celeste wanted me to stay, but she knew that I was in some turmoil and she must have guessed it concerned Joel. Celeste had never intruded-unlike Belinda-and she had always been self-effacing. She was there ... if one wanted her. Dear Celeste! Her life could not have been a happy one. Perhaps, I thought, few people’s are; and it is only the Belindas of this world who are so determined to get what they want that they almost invariably do.

There was a letter from Roland.

“My dearest Lucie,” he wrote,

We are always saying how sorry we are that you are not with us. The search has not been very fruitful. It is amazing how difficult it is to find suitable property up here.

Something has come up, though. There is a reasonably suitable house here to let. Phillida and I thought we would take it as somewhere to live while we looked around until we find the right place to buy. Obviously that is something which cannot be done in a few weeks ... if we are going to find something we all really like. We thought we’d stay in this house for a little while and search. How does that strike you?

Let me tell you the house is called Gray Stone House. It’s a few miles out of Bradford. There are stables and we could hire horses for a month or so. So that problem is solved. It’s in a sort of village-Bracken. I thought we might take the house for say three months and renew if necessary. I think it might take that time to find our place and furnish and do all that is necessary.

Do you think this is a good idea? We have taken the house tentatively. Phillida is delighted with it and she is sure you will be. It is furnished... after a fashion, and there are several rooms. It is by no means grand but adequate. We thought you might join us here. It’s not worth our coming back. What about Wednesday next? Would that give you time? That is, of course, if all this is agreeable to you. Phillida is very excited, but you know what she is. She likes things to move. I am sure you and she will thoroughly enjoy house hunting together. I am so looking forward to Wednesday. It seems such a long time without you.

I hope you are enjoying London, that Belinda and Bobby are well, and Celeste better.

With all my love,

Your devoted husband,

Roland

When I read the letter it seemed to put a seal on everything. Of course I must go to Yorkshire. I must put an end to my foolish dreaming of something which could never come to pass.

The night before Belinda and Bobby left she came to my room. I myself was leaving the following day. She looked at me with real concern in her eyes. “I know what’s happening,” she said. “It’s Joel, isn’t it? You never really loved Roland. Well, he was nice and in love with you, and we all thought it would be good for you to marry. How were we to know Joel would come back? Oh, Lucie, I’m so sorry for you. It doesn’t seem fair somehow. You’ve always been good to me and I’ve been awful at times... and now here I am with my wonderful old Bobby... and Henry doing what we want and it’ll soon be through... and everything will be fine for us. I do think about you, though.”

“Thank you, Belinda.”

“You sound surprised.” She laughed. “I do really wish there was something I could do ... for you, I mean. I’d like to show you that I do care about other people sometimes-particularly you. Not often, I grant you, but I should so love to help you.”

“There isn’t anything you can do, Belinda. It’s all so clear. I shall have to go up to Yorkshire. It’ll be all right. It has been so far.”

“Oh yes. It seemed all right because we thought Joel was dead and you got on well with Roland... and there were the three of you. It seemed cozy... but it was really the next best thing, wasn’t it? It was because you thought Joel was gone forever and you were making do with what was left. There’s nothing you can do when people are dead... but when they’re living... well, I think you should try everything.”

“I appreciate your concern, but you needn’t worry. I shall go to Yorkshire and it will work out all right.”

“You’re really going to get a house up there?”

“That’s the idea.”

“When are you going?”

“Almost at once. They have found a house which they are renting. It’s near Bradford which I believe is the center of the wool trade.”

“That’s miles away.”

“Not so far really. We shall get a house nearer Bradford, but just at first we shall be in-or near-a little village called Bracken. It sounds rather rural.”

“It will be lonely up there.”

“Oh, there are stables and we shall have horses. In any case, we shall be busy looking at houses and then, when we have found one, getting it ready to move into. We shall not, I suppose, be long in Gray Stone House.”

“That’s the name of this house in this Bracken place, is it? Gray Stone House?”

“Yes, that is it.”

“Gray Stone sounds dreary.”

“Most stone is grayish and the country round about will be beautiful. But as I say, we shall only be there a short while.”

She came to me impulsively and put her arms round me.

“I’ll be thinking of you, Lucie.”

“And I of you.”

“I do wish that you and Joel ... I think that would be so wonderful. You’re just right for each other.”

“Please, Belinda ...”

She went on, “Roland’s a dear, but he is a little dull... isn’t he? Not like a politician going on missions and getting kidnapped.”

“That’s nothing to do with it, Belinda.”

“You’re going to change your mind,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “You’re going to do something. You’re going to be bold.”

“I am going to Yorkshire, Belinda. I shall be with my husband.”

“To old Gray Stone House ... in that Bracken place.”

I nodded.

“Oh, Lucie... Lucie... !”

I was surprised, for there were genuine tears in her eyes. I avoided Joel before I left. I dared not see him, for I felt the temptation to leave everything and go with him, would be too great to resist. Belinda and Bobby had gone. They were very tender toward me. I told them how happy I was that their affairs seemed to be working out to their satisfaction. Belinda said, “You must come and stay with us soon, mustn’t she, Bobby?”

“The sooner the better,” added Bobby.

“It would be nice if you were there when the baby was born.”

“We must arrange that,” said Bobby.

How happy they were, in spite of their difficulties. Belinda had no doubt that they would soon be overcome and she carried Bobby along with her. What would Belinda have done in my position? I asked myself. She would have gone with Joel. I had no doubt of that. Any trouble which ensued would be settled by others. But I knew I had to go to Roland.

Celeste was sorry to see me leave. She wanted to come with me to the station, but I hated platform good-byes and said it would be better for me to go alone. When I arrived at the station I was surprised to see Joel there. He had called at the house and Celeste had told him that I had already left. He came onto the platform with me and saw me onto the train. He stood looking at me pleadingly.

“It’s not too late, Lucie,” he said. “Don’t go.”

“I must, Joel.”

The guard was blowing his whistle and in seconds the train would begin to move. He took my hand and held it as though he would never let it go.

He said, “Lucie, if you would change your mind... I’ll be waiting.”

I saw him through a haze of tears as we began to move out of the station.