The Silk Vendetta

Meetings in the Park

One of the greatest blessings of our prosperity was that I could devote more time to Katie. I had engaged a governess for her— a Miss Price—a very worthy lady, who took her duties seriously; but I often took Katie off her hands, for the child loved to be with me as much as I did with her.

We used to walk together each afternoon after her lessons. Sometimes we went to St. James’s Park where we fed the ducks; sometimes we visited the Serpentine. Katie was a very gregarious person and made friends with the other children very quickly. I liked to see her enjoying the companionship of people of her own age.

It was two days after the departure of Grand’mere and the Countess and we were sitting on a bench engaged in the sort of conversation Katie and I often had together which consisted of a number of “whys” and “whats” when a man stopped, lifted his hat and said: “So I have found you.”

It was Drake Aldringham.

“I called at your place,” he said, “and Miss Cassandra told me that you would either be in St. James’s Park or here. Unfortunately I went to the wrong one first, but at least I am now rewarded.”

I felt a great pleasure to see him.

I said: “This is Katie. Katie, this is Mr. Drake Aldringham.”

She gave him a direct look. “You’re not a duck,” she said. “You’re only a man.”

“I can see I have disappointed you,” he replied.

“Well… I’ve heard them talking about a drake.”

I was embarrassed but he looked pleased to learn that he had been the subject of our conversation.

Katie gave him one of her dazzling smiles. “Never mind,” she said.

“I’ll try not to take it to heart.”

I could see that he thought her charming and I was happy about that.

“We like it here, don’t we, Katie,” I said. “We come often.”

“Yes,” said Katie. “It’s like the country … but you can hear the horses’ hoofs and that makes it nicer.

“Grand’mere is in France,” she told Drake.

“Yes,” I added. “She and the Countess have gone to Paris.”

“Some day,” Katie said, “I shall go. With Mama, of course.”

“Of course,” he said. “Are you looking forward to that?”

She nodded. “Have you been?”

He told her he had. He talked to her about Paris and she listened avidly. A small boy came up. He was often in the park with his nanny and he and Katie played together. I could see that she wanted to go now and play with him for she looked at me expectantly.

“Yes,” I said, “but not too far. Keep where I can see you, or I shall be after you.”

She turned, smiled at Drake and was off.

” What a delightful child!” he said.

“I am so lucky to have her.”

“I can understand how you feel.”

My eyes had filled with tears and I was ashamed of myself for showing my emotions.

“She must have been a great consolation.”

I nodded. “She always has been that. I can’t imagine what I should have done without her.”

“I am so sorry it happened. It must have been devastating.”

“To have lost him in any way would have been that, but…”

“Don’t speak of it if you would rather not.”

I was silent for a few minutes. Oddly enough I did want to talk about it. I felt I could with him.

I said: “People thought he killed himself. Everyone thought that. It was the verdict of the coroner. I shall never believe it.”

“You knew him better than anyone.”

“How could he? We were so happy. We had just decided to buy a house. Why should he be so happy and then a few hours afterwards … do that? It doesn’t make sense.”

“There was nothing you knew of …”

“Absolutely nothing. It was all so mysterious. I have a theory that someone intended to kill him … and had tried before.”

He listened intently while I told him the story of Lorenzo who had gone out in Philip’s clothes.

“How very odd!” he said.

“They seemed to think I knew something which I did not divulge. It made me so unhappy. There was nothing … nothing… . Everything was perfect. …”

He put his hand over mine and pressed it.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I got carried away.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“You didn’t.”

“I’m afraid I did. Perhaps one day … you will grow away from it.”

“I have done that to a certain extent. Katie has helped me. And yet… she is so like him sometimes … that it reminds me. I think I shall never forget.”

”You would not, of course. But you are happy … in a way.”

“Yes, I suppose so. I have Katie, Grand’mere … good friends …”

“And the business,” he said. “You are a dedicated business woman and that means a lot to you.”

“It has. It was not until a year after Philip’s death that we started. I could not go on living in that house. It was Charles’s house and I could not forget that.”

“Of course.”

“The Countess has been invaluable to us. She is really a very lovable person. I am certainly very lucky.”

“And the prosperous business has been a great help.”

“It was not always prosperous. We were innocents, Grand’mere and I. The Countess is very worldly and I think we are becoming so under her tuition.”

“Don’t grow too worldly,” he said.

“One must be to succeed in our kind of business … or in any for that matter.”

“Success means a great deal to you.”

”It has to. It means giving Katie the sort of education I want for her … launching her into society … giving her every chance.”

“You are an ambitious Mama.”

“I am ambitious for her happiness. And we are talking too much about me. Tell me about yourself and your constituency and everything a good member of Parliament has to do.”

So he talked very amusingly and interestingly. He told me of the letters he received from some of his constituents. “A member of Parliament is expected to be a genie of the lamp,” he said. He talked too about his travels abroad, of life in the sweltering heat of the Gold Coast; how he had dreamed of coming home; and how delighted he was at last to see the white cliffs that he started to sing out loud to the amazement of his fellow travellers.

So we passed a pleasant hour watching Katie running and jumping and looking over her shoulder every now and then to smile at us.

It was a long time since I had felt so happy.

When we left he walked back to the house with us—Katie between us, each of us holding a hand.

He said how much he had enjoyed the meeting.

“Do you go to the park every day?” he asked.

“Quite often.”

“I shall look out for you.”

He bowed and smiled down at Katie. “I hope I’m forgiven for being only a man.”

“It was silly of me,” she said. “I ought to have known. Ducks don’t visit, do they?”

“No. They just quack.” He illustrated his remark with a little noise which did resemble that made by ducks. It greatly amused Katie. She quacked herself and went into the house quacking.

Cassie came out.

“Oh,” she said. “That Drake Aldringham called.”

“I know,” I told her, “we saw him in the park.”

“I told him you were there and would be somewhere near the water whichever park it was.”

“Well, he found us.”

“He’s a very nice man,” said Katie. “He quacks just like a real one … only he isn’t one, of course … only a man.”

Cassie was beaming.

“I’m glad he found you,” she said. “He was so disappointed when I told him you were out.”

And the next day we saw him again.

In fact he made a habit of meeting us in the park.

Two weeks later Grand’mere and the Countess returned home. They had been away longer than usual. I thought Grand’mere looked preoccupied. I knew her so well and she was never able to hide her feelings, so I realized that something had happened— good or bad, I was not quite sure; but it certainly had made her thoughtful.

The Countess was exuberant as she always was after her visits to Paris.

“I saw just the place that would suit us,” she said, “in the Rue Saint-Honore … quite the right spot. Small but really elegant.”

“We have made up our minds that we can’t take the risk,” I said.

“I know,” she replied sighing. “Such a pity. Chance of a lifetime really. You should see it… a lovely light workroom; and I could imagine the showroom decorated in white and gold. It would have been perfect.”

“Apart from one thing,” I said, “we haven’t the money and Grand’mere and I are determined not to be in debt.”

The Countess shook her head mournfully but said no more.

When I was alone with Grand’mere, I said to her: “Come on. You must tell me what happened.”

She looked at me in surprise.

“I know it is something,” I said. “I can see it in your face. So you had better tell me.”

She was silent for a few minutes, then she said: “The urge came over me. I had to go. I wanted to see it all again. I left the Countess in Paris and went to Villers-Mure.”

“So that was it. And it has made you thoughtful? “

”There is something about one’s birthplace …”

“Of course. It was a long journey for you.”

“I made it.”

“And how did you find it there?”

“Very much as it always was. It took me back … years. I visited your mother’s grave.”

” That was sad for you.”

“In a way. But not entirely. There was a rosebush … someone had planted it. I had expected to find the grave neglected. That cheered me a great deal.”

“Who had done it?”

She lifted her shoulders and raised her eyes. There was a sad brooding look in them.

“Perhaps it was unwise to go,” I said.

“Oh no … no …” She dismissed the subject. “Cassie tells me that Mr. Aldringham called.”

“Yes, I have met him now and then in the park. Katie’s taken quite a fancy to him … and he has to her.”

“I liked him when we met.”

“Yes, I know.”

She smiled at me. “I’m glad you’ve been seeing him.” Then she added cryptically: “You can’t go on mourning forever.”

It was my turn to change the subject. “The Countess I am sure thinks that in time we shall come round to her way of thinking.”

“I will never agree to borrow.”

“Nor I. So it seems a waste of time to look at shops in Paris.”

”She was right about us in the beginning and we did have to spend a little to get things going.”

“That was different. We were desperate then. Now we have a steady business. I would not want to go through that anxiety again.”

“There is only one way I would agree to go into it,” said Grand’mere.

“And that?”

“If we had the money. If some benefactor invested in us.”

“That is quite impossible.”

“Unlikely but not impossible.”

She was thoughtful again and I said: “Grand’mere, what’s on your mind?”

“Only that that shop in the Rue Saint-Honore” was very enticing.”

“Put it out of your mind. There is plenty of work here for us.”

“I can’t wait to get on with it.” She kissed me. “It’s good to be home,” she said.

We had settled down to the old routine. Katie and I met Drake frequently, and I looked forward to those meetings. They formed a certain pattern. We would often find him waiting for us. Katie would run up and give a quack to which he responded. It was the recognized greeting between them. The same joke would amuse Katie again and again.

She would play with her friends while we talked. There was much to tell each other. I found I could talk to him freely and I was sure he felt the same about me. He spent a certain amount of time at Swaddingham.

“I wish you could see the house,” he said. “It’s an Elizabethan manor. It was an inn at the beginning of the fifteenth century, then it became a private residence and enlarged, so that while part of it is Saxon, the lower floors are entirely Tudor. There is quite a bit of land. So I am a sort of squire. If ever I lost my seat in Parliament I should devote myself entirely to my squiral duties.”

”Would you like that?” I asked.

“It would only be second best.” He looked at me seriously. “Sometimes one has to settle for that.”

“That’s true. At least you have a second string. In that you are fortunate.”

“I wonder if you and Katie would visit me at Swaddingham?”

“It sounds exciting.”

“Perhaps you and your grandmother could bring Katie.”

“I am sure we should enjoy that very much.”

“Well, when the House is in recess we’ll go. One can never be sure when one is going to be called in for some important vote … so that would be the best time.”

“Do invite us.”

I told him about our dilemma.

“The Countess is rather different from Grand’mere and me. She is full of energy … something of a gambler. She wants to expand and open a place in Paris.”

“And you do not? You surprise me.”

“I do want to … very much, but I dare not take risks.”

“Is it such a risk?”

“It’s an enormous one. We should have to find the shop and it would be a very high rent in the right quarter. Then we have to stock it … and get staff. We should have to do it in style now. When we opened here we were just beginners and we could start in a humble way. We could not do that now. The Countess wouldn’t hear of it. She would say it would do us more harm than good. We have to do everything in grand style. Grand’mere and I see exactly what she means. If it worked it would be wonderful; but if it failed we could be ruined. Grand’mere and I do not take such risks.”

“I think you are probably wise.”

“Who shall say? The Countess thinks we are unenterprising.”

“Better be that than bankrupt.”

“I agree.”

“So you are in a dilemma.”

“Not really. Grand’mere and I are adamant.”

“But regretful,” he said.

“Yes, regretful.”

We were talking animatedly when Julia came along. She was stylishly dressed in a costume of midnight blue edged with sable. She looked very elegant in a type of riding hat with an ostrich feather trailing over the brim. I had seen the costume and the hat before for they had both come out of our showrooms and when I saw them, my first thought was: Grand’mere has genius.

Julia opened her eyes with surprise; but I immediately thought that this did not express her true feeling, and I had a notion that she had come out here to find us. It must have been that we had been seen together by some of her friends and that our meetings were a matter of some interest. As a widow with a child I was not expected to lead such a restricted existence as a young unmarried woman and the fact that I had been seen at the same spot on several occasions with an eligible bachelor would cause some speculation.

“Well, fancy finding you here! Of course … you come with Katie. Children do love the parks.” She sat down beside us. I felt insignificant in my simple walking costume beside her in all her glory.

“I like to take a walk now and then,” she said. “Exercise is supposed to be good for you. I have the carriage waiting for me not far off. I thought, Drake, that you were in Swaddingham.”

“I shall have to go down in a day or so.”

”Of course. You have to get them all in a good humour before the election. When do you expect it?”

“In the not too distant future.”

“I’ll come and help,” said Julia.

“That’s kind of you.”

“I find politics fascinating,” she went on. “All that going among the people and kissing the babies … and you’re half way there.”

“It’s not quite as easy as that,” said Drake with a laugh. “Our opponents might be good baby-admirers, too.”

“Poor Drake! He works so hard,” said Julia, laying a hand on his arm. “He really is wonderful.”

“You have too high an opinion of me.”

“I am sure that would be impossible. You must come and dine tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” he said.

She smiled at me. “Sorry I can’t invite you, Lenore. You see, it is so difficult. There is a shortage of men … and a woman on her own …”

“Oh, I quite understand.”

“You ought to get married. Don’t you agree, Drake?”

”I think that is a matter for Lenore to decide for herself.”

“Of course these things can be helped along.”

I looked at my watch and said it was time I was going. I called Katie who came running up.

“Hello, Aunt Julia.”

“Hello, my darling.” Julia kissed Katie effusively.

“You smell nice,” said Katie.

“Do I, dear? You must come and see me some time soon.”

“When?” asked Katie.

“We must wait to be asked definitely, Katie,” I said.

“We’re asked now.”

“Aunt Julia will tell us when she wants us.”

“But she said …”

“We really must go,” I insisted.

“Of course,” said Julia. “We’ll excuse you, won’t we, Drake?”

“I’ll escort Lenore and Katie home,” said Drake.

Julia pouted. Then she said brightly: “I’ll tell you what. We’ll ride in my carriage.”

I was about to protest when Katie cried: “Oh yes …please.”

And so we rode home.

Julia had somehow conveyed to me that she was displeased by my meetings with Drake. I remembered in the past how very taken she had been by him. She still was, I could see.

I was not sure of Drake. I think he was not pleased by the intrusion.

Katie was, however. She kept talking about the horses and sang clopetty-clop all the way home.

After that we often met Julia. She knew, of course, the time we should be there, and she would find us somewhere near the Serpentine; or if we were in St. James’s Park she knew we should be feeding the ducks.

“I do enjoy my little walks,” she said. “So good for one. And it is such fun to come upon familiar faces and sit down and talk.”

She dominated the conversation and managed to discuss people whom I did not know, so that I was often excluded.

I wondered what Drake was feeling. He was too polite to betray this, and sometimes I wondered whether he was pleased to see Julia. He did smile quite often at her inconsequential chatter. It was very feminine, I supposed, and perhaps he found that attractive.

She had a way of disparaging me through supposed compliments. “Of course, Lenore is such a wonderful business woman. I could never be that. It must be wonderful to be so self-reliant … such a wonderful manager … like a man really … Lenore doesn’t need any looking after.”

I don’t know why I should let it annoy me, but it did. She was, of course, calling attention to her own helpless femininity which was supposed to be so attractive to the opposite sex.

In any case those mornings were spoilt, and because I felt so bitterly disappointed I tried to analyse my feelings for Drake.

I so much enjoyed being with him; I was intensely interested in all he was doing and I felt I should like to share in it.

In his turn, he was interested in the shop. The Countess had said I must not call it “the shop.” It was “the salon.” “What’s in a name?” I had asked. “A tremendous amount,” she had retorted. ”I have often told you that it is not so much what things are as what people believe them to be. A shop is somewhere where things are sold over the counter. A salon is where artists deign to sell their work.”

“I’m learning,” I replied. “The salon it shall be.”

When I had told Drake this he had been very amused. He had listened intently to the story of our beginnings. He was so interested in everything I was doing. He enjoyed being with Katie and it was clear that she was fond of him. I had a cosy feeling that when we had walked back with Katie in between us, holding our hands, the Countess, who had seen us, had felt some approval. “You looked … right… like that,” she said.

As for Grand’mere, she had never been one to hide her feelings and her opinion was obvious.

I was very touched to consider how her one thought, throughout her life, had been to care for me. She had been heartbroken when Philip died; she had seen through my marriage all her dreams coming true. But I had been without Philip for a long time and she was visualizing another dream with Drake at the centre of it.

It would have been impossible for me not to consider which way I was going. Drake’s persistent visits to the park, our growing friendship, the manner in which a special light came into his eyes when he saw us—they were all significant. There was a possibility that he was falling in love with me.

He was eager for me to go down and see the manor at Swad-dingham and we were to pay the visit the first weekend after the Parliamentary recess.

And myself? I could never forget Philip and that honeymoon in Florence which had ended so tragically, and since my feelings for Drake were beginning to grow into something very serious, I thought of those days more and more.

I had grown up considerably since my marriage. I had been young, simple and innocent. I had known little of the world then. Perhaps Philip had been a little like that, too. We were like two children. Could we have gone on like that? I had suddenly been brought face to face with tragic reality. I had become a mother and there was now one person in my life who was more important to me than myself. I had learned something about the seriousness of making a living for myself and my child; and our close approach to failure and possible penury had matured me considerably. The worldly Countess had taught me a great deal about people. I no longer lived in that ideal world which I had believed lay ahead of Philip and me; there were things in life which were ugly and these had to be recognized and fully faced.

Now I was asking myself how deeply had my love for Philip gone; and had I built it up to such proportions since his death? Had I told myself I could never love a man again?

Had I really known Philip? Could it be possible that there had been some dark secret in his life and that he took his life rather than allow it to come to light? Was that just possible? No, I could not believe it. Philip had been good and true and innocent … as I was. Then why had it happened as it did? And if he had not shot himself who had and why? There was only one conclusion: Either Philip shot himself or someone else did. And in any case there must have been some dark secret in Philip’s life of which I had known nothing.

I had loved Philip, but then, had I really known him? With him I had first learned the meaning of love between men and women. Our relationship had been tenderly romantic. But he was dead. Perhaps it was time that I ceased to mourn him. My meetings with Drake were beginning to tell me that I was not meant to lead the life of a nun.

When I watched him, coming towards me, my spirits lifted. I tried to see him dispassionately: a tall man dressed with quiet, good taste; he had always been distinguished looking as a boy; now that was accentuated. I admired him very much; I was happy to sit close to him and I was pleased when he touched my hand. Yes, I was attracted by him for the days when I did not see him were dull days and I found myself looking forward to that Swaddingham weekend with a joy that resembled Katie’s.

Julia came to the salon. She always arrived in style with her carriage, her obsequious coachman and the little boy who was equally eager to please.

I dreaded her visits which was foolish. She was a very good customer. As she said, she simply adored clothes.

She was a great spender—so different from the Julia of our childhood. She had had her tantrums then and had always been self-indulgent, but she had lacked this overwhelming confidence which being a rich widow had brought her.

The Countess always greeted her effusively.

“I am so glad you came in. I was just saying to Madame Cleremont that the burgundy velvet is just you. I said to her that before we show it to anyone else Julia must see it.”

Then she would hustle her off to the showroom where there would be tut-tutting from the Countess because of Julia’s growing waistline. The burgundy dress had fitted but only just. “My dear child …” (The Countess often fell back into that relationship they had shared during Julia’s launching.) “You must cut out this penchant for food.” And Julia would giggle and become almost a girl in the Countess’s company.

Of course she bought the dress as the Countess intended she should. Then she sought me out.

“Charles is getting married, “she told me.

“Oh … really?”

“It’s about time. Un manage de convenance. You know what I mean. I hear that Sallonger’s are not doing so well now. Charles is not like Philip, you know. He needs money and he’ll get it. She’s a little older than he is and not the most beautiful woman in the world, but my dear, she is gold-plated.”

“I hope it is successful.”

“She’ll get what she wants … a husband … and he’ll go his own sweet way … as he always has done. I told him once he was a ruthless philanderer. He just laughed at me and said, ‘Fancy your noticing that, little sister.’ “

“Perhaps he’ll settle down.”

“What! Charles? Do you believe that? I wish I could find someone for Cassie.”

“Cassie is happy enough.”

“You’ll probably get an invitation to the wedding.”

I did not answer and she went on: “You’re seeing quite a lot of Drake Aldringham, aren’t you?”

“We meet in the park, as you know, as you are often with us.”

“He’s very much a man of the world, you know.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“A little like Charles in a way.”

“Like Charles?”

“Well, men are mostly alike … in one respect.”

I stared at her in amazement.

”With women, I mean. I know him very well and in spite of all this… clever business and so on…you’re a little innocent in some ways.”

“I don’t know what you are suggesting.”

She laughed. “Don’t you? Just think about it then. Drake is a very great friend of mine … a very close friend. … As a matter of fact … Never mind. Do you really think that burgundy velvet suits me? I wish the Countess wouldn’t go on so about my weight.” She looked at me archly. “Some people tell me they like it. It’s warm … and friendly … and womanly. I don’t think men really like those beanpole types.”

She was looking at me a little scornfully. It was true that I was very slender. Grand’mere worried that I did not eat enough.

I was glad when Julia went; and then I kept turning over in my mind what she had said.

I hated to think of Julia as a rival. Yet she did not like our meetings in the parks; she was eager to tell me he was her friend … close friend, she had pointed out. What did she mean by that? Was she warning me in comparing Drake with Charles?

I thought Julia was jealous, and I remembered her fury of long ago when she knew that Drake had left after a quarrel with Charles; and that had been on my account.

It was a few days later when I first noticed the man in the park. He was sitting on a bench near the one which we occupied and whenever I glanced casually his way he seemed to be looking in my direction. I fancied I had seen him there before.

He was of medium height, dark-haired, greying at the temples; he might have been about forty years of age, distinguished looking in a foreign way. It was something about the cut of his clothes as well as his looks which made me feel that he was not English.

Julia had joined us as usual. Katie played happily; Drake, who had been talking animatedly before Julia’s arrival, was now restrained.

I was beginning to think that as Julia resented my friendship with Drake so much, and made a point of joining us, I should find some excuse not to come. Cassie would be only too happy to take Katie to the park.

The next day I saw the man again. He really did seem to watch me intently. I might have thought I had imagined this but Julia had noticed.

”I do declare Lenore has an admirer,” she cried.

“What?” said Drake.

“The not-so-young gentleman over there. He can hardly take his eyes from her. I saw him here yesterday. Lenore, have you a secret lover?”

“I have no idea who he is,” I said.

“Well, he is gazing at you with a kind of rapture.”

“What nonsense! I am sure he is unaware of us.”

“Of us, my dear, but not of you.”

I felt I wanted to get away.

“I have to go back early today, Katie,” I called.

Katie was disappointed to be called from play, but she was of such a happy sunny nature that she never sulked.

“Come along,” I said.

Drake rose and stood up, prepared to leave.

“Don’t come if you’d rather stay,” I said.

Julia laid her hand on Drake’s arm. ”We’ll sit here for a little while,” she said, “and then I want you to come back to luncheon, Drake. There will be just a small parry. I’m counting on you.”

I did not wait for more. I took Katie’s hand and hurried her away.

She cried: “Look at that little duck, Mama. He’s ruffling his feathers. I think he’s rather angry. Perhaps he’s hungry. Oh, I wish I had some bread to give him.”

“Next time we’ll bring some,” I promised.

“Your face is red,” she said. “Are you angry?”

“Of course not.”

”Not with Aunt Julia?”

“No.”

“Then with Quack-Quack.”

“No, darling, I’m not angry at all.”

“You look angry.”

“No. Just in a hurry.”

I was aware of footsteps behind, and I thought for a moment that Drake was coining after us. I glanced over my shoulder. It was the man whom Julia had said was watching me.

I felt a touch of uneasiness. I was in a very sensitive mood today. Of course he wasn’t following me. Why should he?

We left the park and crossed the road. We turned the corner. I glanced back. The man was still behind. As we went in he passed slowly on the other side of the street.

It seemed that there would be an election in the following year. Everyone was saying that surely Gladstone must retire now that he was eighty-two—certainly not of an age to lead the country.

Drake was very excited at the prospect of an election and thought the Liberals had a fair chance. In spite of his great age Gladstone was popular with the people. They called him the Grand Old Man and the People’s William. It was true that the Grand Old Man refused to give up.

Drake was very busy and I saw less of him. It was growing too cold to sit in the park. Katie and I walked there and Mia did not appear because she knew Drake was working in Swaddingham.

The proposed weekend had had to be postponed—but only briefly, Drake had insisted.

Charles was married that autumn. I had an invitation to his wedding which I wanted to refuse; but Cassie naturally had had to go to her brother’s wedding and she begged me to go with her. We had made the bride’s gown and the Countess was also invited.

It was a grand affair in St. George’s Hanover Square and later there was a reception at Claridges. Charles looked very pleased with himself and the bride seemed happy. Her gown was exquisite and I saw the Countess watching, her eyes glittering, probably speculating as to how much business this would bring us.

Julia was there looking splendid. She spoke to us briefly.

“It will be your turn next,” she said to Cassie.

“I’ve no wish to have a turn,” retorted Cassie promptly.

“If you are so persistent in clinging to your spinsterhood, no one will bother to take it from you,” warned Julia.

”I like things as they are.”

”There is nothing like a wedding to bring satisfaction to both parties … like today,” commented Julia.

“I hope they’ll be happy,” I said.

”They will if they are sensible. She has been longing to find a husband and Charles is desperately in need of a wife. Miss Money Bags is just the right answer to his prayers.” She laughed at me. “You’re shocked. You know you are easily shocked.” She looked round. “Drake’s not here. He wasn’t invited. Charles wouldn’t, would he? Charles never forgets old scores. I told him he was vengeful. After all, how many years is it since Drake threw him in the lake?”

“I expect Drake was too busy to come,” said Cassie. “He has the election to think of.”

“Voters like their members to have wives,” said Julia. “It’s a recognized thing. A member has a great deal to do. He needs a wife.” She looked at me archly. “I must tell him so. I know just the sort he should have. Someone who knows the world and has the money to entertain lavishly … someone who can mix and go about with him … looking pleasant.”

I did not answer.

“He’ll come round to it,” she went on. “As a matter of fact, I believe he is considering it now and … with a little help from me … I believe he will choose the right one.”

“Let us hope for his own sake that he does,” I said.

“I mean the woman who can help him along. Drake is very sensible, you know. Not the sort of man who would fall in love with the beggar maid. Drake will fall in love judiciously.”

“What a clever thing to do,” I said.

”Oh, Drake is very clever. The great thing in his life is his career. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were not dreaming of step-ping into dear old Gladstone’s shoes. Oh, not yet, of course. The Grand Old Man it seems is not finished and there are many stepping stones to be crossed. But Drake would always have his eyes open to the main chance. You’ll see. He’ll marry a woman who knows how to be a social hostess—and a little money will not come amiss.”

“I should hate to think a friend was so mercenary.”

“You misinterpret my words. Now when did I say he was mercenary? I call it wisdom. Look at Disraeli. Now he was a clever man. He married his Mary Anne for her money. He needed that money. If you’re going to climb the greasy pole— Disraeli again—you need to be well protected with money if, when you get to the top of it, you’re going to stay there. This happy pair will soon be going off to their honeymoon in Florence. Why does everyone go to Italy for their honeymoon?”

My thoughts were back there, I was walking along the banks of the Arno. I was reliving that night when Lorenzo had disappeared.

“It is one of the most beautiful places in the world,” Cassie was saying. “That is why it is so suitable for honeymooners. That wonderful art… It must be magnificent.”

“Charles won’t be interested in art. He will just be counting his blessings; and his bride will be telling herself how lucky she is that Papa’s money was able to buy her such a handsome husband.”

I looked at Cassie. “I think I should like to go now,” I said.

”You must see the bride and groom off on their honeymoon,” Julia reminded us. “It’s not etiquette to go before that. They won’t be long now.”

Cassie said: “I want to see her in the mulberry coloured suit. It really is beautiful.”

“Strange how you have become one of London’s leading dressmakers.”

“It’s my gandmother’s genius and the Countess’s knowledge of salesmanship which has made us that.”

“Still, it bears your name, and I think you have a great pride in the place.”

“Of course I have.”

“It will be wonderful if we go to Paris,” said Cassie.

“We shan’t,” I said sharply. “We haven’t the money.”

“Your grandmother thinks we shall and so does the Countess. And you want to, don’t you, Lenore? I have seen your eyes sparkling at the thought of that shop in the Rue Saint-Honore.”

“Go to Paris!” cried Julia. “That would be marvellous. We should all be popping over to buy.”

“We should still have the Salon in London.”

”Oh, but there is something about a garment bought in Paris. Even if it were exactly the same as one you bought here you would feel it was different. It would have the Paris touch.”

Cassie and I exchanged glances. Those were almost exactly the Countess’s words.

Julia laughed. “Do you know, I am sure you will get that Paris salon because you are determined to. Something will turn up, you see.”

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it did?” said Cassie.

“Look,” cried Julia. “I didn’t realize the bride had disappeared and here she is all ready. That mulberry is… wonderful. It makes even her look pretty. Those silver grey ruffles at the neck and sleeves are a touch of genius.”

There was great excitement over the departure of the newly married pair; and finally the carriage left.

I turned to Cassie and said: “We can go now.”

I received a letter from Drake. He was working very hard in the constituency and there was a great deal to do. He missed our meetings in the park and he wanted to know if I with Katie, Caissie and my grandmother—and the Countess if she wished to come—would care to spend Christmas at Swaddingham.

We were all delighted at the prospect, but the Countess had already had an invitation to the Mellors’ country house and she thought she ought to take it. So it would be just Grand’mere, Cassie, Katie and I who should go.

I was delighted at the prospect of seeing the Manor House at Swaddingham. Those meetings in the park seemed a long way in the past and I had been realizing more and more every day how I missed them.

“We’re rather a large party even without the Countess,” I said. “I wonder if there will be any other guests.”

”Well, you could hardly be asked without a chaperone,” said the Countess, “and that must be Madame Cleremont. And you couldn’t go without Katie—and Cassie would then be on her own which would be quite out of the question. A thoughtful gentleman would think of that—so it was one and all. You must have a special gown for the occasion, Lenore.”

”I’d thought of that,” said Grand’mere.’ ‘Scarlet velvet would be nice.” She looked at the Countess who was nodding in agreement.

Secret glances passed between them. I knew them well enough to understand what they were expecting. And of course it concerned Drake and myself.

Katie and I walked in the park, she hugging a coloured ball in which she took great delight. She had to wait until we were in the park before she could bounce it and as soon as we arrived she began to throw it and run forward to catch it.

She chanted a little ditty to herself—laughing, smiling and giving out a little cry of mock despair when she failed to catch it.-

I thought back nostalgically to those days when it had been warm enough to sit about. There were fewer children here now. The nannies no longer sat on the benches knitting or chatting with one another about their charges.

I was thinking of Christmas. Grand’mere was engrossed in the red velvet gown. It would be a gown to make me look my best.

I was very much looking forward to the visit. I had missed Drake more than I had realized I should. I could imagine myself sharing his enthusiasms. And the salon? Well, I should keep my interest in that, of course.

I had a strong feeling that during this Christmas Drake was going to ask me to marry him. And if my premonition was right, was I going to say yes? I knew that therein lay happiness. I had, though, not quite recovered from Philip’s death; but I knew too that I could do no good by brooding on it. I needed a fresh start and Drake, with whom I was already falling in love, was the man to lead me to it.

Katie gave a shout of dismay. She had bounced her ball too high and it had gone over a low iron fence enclosing rose bushes which even at this time of the year sported a few blooms.

I ran up to Katie but someone was there before me. He was leaning over the fence and rescuing the ball with his walking stick. Katie stood beside him, jumping up and down in her glee because she saw that he was going to retrieve her ball.

He had taken it in the crook of his stick and drew it towards him; then he lifted it up and with a bow handed it to Katie.

“Oh, thank you,” she cried. “You are so clever. What a wonderful stick. Is it magic?”

”Ah,” he said in a foreign accent. ”Magic? Who shall say?”

Katie studied him with grateful eyes. She turned to me. “I have the ball back, Mama.”

He turned to me. My heart gave a jolt. It was the man I had noticed previously and who appeared to have been watching me.

I stammered: “It was so kind of you. Thank you.”

Katie went on jumping while he looked at me searchingly. I had a notion that the meeting was not accidental.

I said: “I…I think I have seen you before in the park.”

“Yes,” he replied. “I come here. It is great bonne chance that I am here when the ball goes over the fence.”

“I am sure my daughter thinks so.”

“She is most charming.”

“Well, my grateful thanks. She would have been so unhappy to have lost her ball. Come along, Katie. I think you should not bounce it so high near the fence.”

Katie held the precious ball tightly in one hand and took mine with the other,

“Thanks again,” I said to the man. “Good day.”

He took off his hat and stood bareheaded bowing, the wind ruffling his greying hair.

As I walked off I could sense his eyes following me. He was French, I thought, judging by his accent; and he had charming manners.

Katie kept talking about him. ”He was rather a funny man.”

“Funny?”

”He talked funny.”

“That was because he was a foreigner. But he was good with the ball.”

“Yes,” agreed Katie. “He pulled it up with his stick. He is a nice man.”

When we reached home Katie told Grand’mere about the man who had recovered her ball.

“That was nice of him,” commented Grand’mere.

“He was a foreigner. He talked like you … Grand’mere … a bit like you. He said bonne chance when he meant lucky.”

“Oh … French,” said Grand’mere.

“He was very charming and polite,” I told her.

“Of course,” she said.

We arrived at Swaddingham two days before Christmas Eve. Drake was at the station to meet us. He was delighted to see us. Katie could not keep still, so excited was she. Grand’mere was quieter than usual but there was a look of intense happiness on her face.

“I hope you are going to like my manor,” said Drake. “I’m growing more and more devoted to it. My sister Isabel and her husband Harry Denton are staying over Christmas. Isabel said I needed a hostess and has offered herself for the part. I think you’ll like her. She is longing to meet the famous Lenore … and you all of course … not forgetting Katie.”

Katie gave him her dazzling smile and bounced up and down on her seat.

She said: “Riding in a carriage is very nice. I like horses.”

“We ought to teach you to ride,” said Drake.

“Oh yes … yes …”

“Riding is not very easy in London,” I pointed out.

“It’s easy here.”

He smiled at me and I felt happy.

I was fascinated by the house when I saw it. It was predominantly Tudor—black beams with whitewashed panels in between, the upper part projecting beyond the ground floor.

Drake had pulled up. He sat for a few seconds watching the effect the house had on me.

I turned to him smiling. “It’s wonderful,” I said. “I could really feel I was back three hundred years.”

“That’s the effect it has. Isabel complains of the inconvenience of the kitchens and so on. But I wouldn’t change one little bit of it. I’m so glad you like it.”

He leaped down and helped us all out.

The big oak door opened and a woman came out. She was fresh complexioned and sufficiently like Drake to tell me that this was his sister Isabel. She smiled warmly.

“Welcome,” she said. “I’m so glad to meet you at last. Do come in.”

We went into the hall, which had a high vaulted roof. There was a fire blazing in the enormous fireplace.

“Are you cold and hungry?” she asked. “Oh, here’s my husband. Harry, come and meet our guests.”

Harry Denton appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had a charming, easy manner and I liked him on the spot just as I had Drake’s sister.

I felt this was going to be a very happy Christmas.

Isabel insisted on our drinking a glass of hot punch to warm us up. “Then you shall go to your rooms.”

“Punch?” cried Katie. “How can you drink punch?”

“You’ll see,” Isabel told her.

I said that Katie might have a little … watered down.

Katie was very intrigued. She thought she was in a very exciting household where people were named Drake—although she had accepted that one by now—but not to drink punch.

“What a funny house,” she said.

“Darling, it’s a wonderful house,” I admonished.

“Yes … but funny.”

Isabel showed us our rooms. We went up a staircase of solid oak. Drake could not resist telling us that the staircase had been put in for a king’s visit, for King Henry VIII had actually stayed at the house for two nights. That was when the house had been transformed and changed from a dilapidated Saxon dwelling into a Tudor house. On one side of the newel was engraved the Tudor rose and on the other the fleur-de-lys.

We came to a landing. Here were our bedrooms—a small one each for Grand’mere and Cassie, and for Katie and me a much larger room with a high ceiling and a floor which sloped, and windows with leaded panes looking out onto a garden.

“Are we going to sleep here?” whispered Katie.

I told her we were and she was awestruck.

Hot water was brought into the bedrooms as soon as we arrived.

“Could you be down in half an hour?” asked Isabel. “That will give you time to wash and unpack perhaps.” She smiled at me. “I’m so glad to meet you at last. Drake has talked so much about you.”

“Are you here often?” I asked.

“Yes. Since Drake was elected. He needs a hostess here. Harry and I like it. This house is part of my childhood. It has been in the Aldringham family since soon after it was Tudorized … so you see how we feel about it.”

“I can well understand.”

”I’ll be pleased to show you over it, but I daresay Drake will want to do that. He’s so proud of the old place. It has quite a history. Charles the First stayed in one of the bedrooms when he was being chased by Cromwell’s men. Of course he stayed in lots of houses … but we preserve his room. We never use it. It’s just as it was when he slept in it.”

“It must be wonderful to belong to such a family.”

“Well, we all belong to our families, don’t we? There is a family tree in the hall. I must show it to you. It goes right back to the sixteenth century. Collect the others when you’re ready and come down to the hall.”

Katie had been listening intently.

“What’s Cromwell’s men?” she asked.

I said: “I’ll explain later. It’s a long story and there isn’t time now.”

”Will they come chasing us … like they did that First man?”

I laughed. “Nobody’s going to come chasing us. It all happened a long time ago.”

When we went down to the hall Isabel was waiting for us. She said dinner would be served in about ten minutes.

I learned that Harry had a fairly large estate some thirty miles from Swaddingham. He had a good manager so it was easy for him to get away.

“It means,” said Isabel, “that we can almost always come here when Drake needs us. There is a certain amount of entertaining to do now that he is an M.P. He has to keep the constituents happy. There are all sorts of meetings here. Of course, he is in London a good deal, but I always tell him that I’m available when he needs me. I’ve always been something of a mother to Drake. He was only eight when our mother died. I was thirteen. I felt years older than he was. And that’s how it has always been.”

“I’m sure he’s very grateful to you.”

“Oh …he’s my favourite man … after Harry, of course. I hope he will marry as happily as I have. Drake is a very special person.”

I had a feeling that she was assessing me and that she was coming to the conclusion that I was to be that one; and as she looked pleased I guessed that she approved of me. She was certainly very charming to me.

Katie was allowed to join us for dinner for I did not feel she should be left alone in a strange room. She was delighted to be sitting at the table with the grown-ups; and as she was placed between Drake and me she felt quite at home.

That was a merry meal, sitting in that ancient room with its exquisite linenfold panelling and the leaded windows. Candles guttered in the brackets and in the large candelabrum in the centre of the table.

We talked about the house, its gardens, its grounds and stables. Katie listened avidly. Drake said that the next day he would find a pony for Katie and would give her a lesson in the paddock. She was wildly excited at the prospect and asked a great many questions. We were all very amused by these; but eventually she grew sleepy and was desperately trying to keep awake so as not to miss a moment of this exciting adventure; but it was hard work.

I said I would take her up to bed and stay with her so that I should be there if she awoke.

She murmured something about her pony as I kissed her good night and she was soon fast asleep.

I sat for some time at the window looking out. There was faint moonlight which showed me the outline of the distant trees. I was looking down on a lawn surrounded by flower beds which no doubt would make a glorious show in summer.

I was falling in love with the house and I had a notion that this was what Drake intended me to do. I was visualizing myself as mistress of it, helping Drake with his political work, making his career my main interest, just as I had made the salon mine; but Drake’s career would have to be my first concern if I married him. I was only really part of Lenore’s. Grand’mere was the creator of those superb creations and it was the Countess’s shrewdness and connections which were of such vital importance. I could easily step aside or take a minor role … Grand’mere would understand. It was what she wanted; and I believed the Countess wanted the same.

I was physically tired but mentally alert. I went to bed and lay there wakeful for some time. A great excitement gripped me. I was certain that Drake had brought me here to ask me to marry him. He was showing a certain caution; and I guessed this was because he would be asking me to give up my business—at least to a large extent—and he was not sure how I should feel about that. I felt there was a certain restraint in him and I could only think that was the reason.

After breakfast next morning, Isabel took us round the house. It was larger than I had thought. We began with the kitchen with its enormous brick oven and roasting spits.

“Made for the days when people had gargantuan appetites,” said Isabel. “Mind you I have dared to introduce a little modernity so that we can cook without too much inconvenience.”

We explored the outhouses which included a buttery and a laundry.

Then we came to the main hall with its stone walls and vaulted ceiling.

“We use this when there are many guests,” Isabel explained. “Sometimes we have to give dinner parties for the dignitaries of the neighbourhood. For smaller occasions we use the dining room. On Christmas Day there will be several guests so we shall eat Christmas dinner here. These stairs lead up to the dining room and the drawing room; and then on the next floor are the bedrooms. There are twenty of them, of varying sizes; and above that is the long gallery which goes across the whole length of the house; above are the attics and servants’ quarters.”

Drake had joined us. “You’re stealing a march on me, Isabel,” he said. And to us: “You must see the gallery. It’s the oldest part of the house … the remains of the Saxon section. It was not changed when the lower part was renovated.”

I stood there in that gallery. There was an eeriness about it. Even though it was bright daylight there seemed to be shadows.

“The windows are so small,” said Drake. “We could have them changed but that would be frowned upon. Of course we can’t change the character of the place which we should do if we altered anything.”

”Is it haunted?” asked Cassie.

Isabel and Drake exchanged glances.

”Did you ever hear of any old house which was not supposed to be haunted?”

“So it is,” said Cassie.

“It’s the old part of the house you see, and in a house where people have been living for centuries there are bound to be legends.”

Cassie shivered. I looked at Katie. I did not want her to be frightened but she was looking out of the window where she could see the stables. She said there was a man on a horse. Drake went over to her.

“Yes, that’s the stables,” he said. “Your pony is there.”

He stood beside her talking to her.

“Who sleeps up there?” asked Cassie.

“The servants,” Isabel told her.

“Have they ever. . ,”

“We don’t talk about it. You know what people are? They build up things in their minds and start imagining things.”

Grand’mere asked about the pictures.

“They are all members of the family,” said Drake who had joined us with Katie.

“Are you here?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Our family home is really in Worcestershire. My father’s sister came here a long time ago and it was reckoned to be her home. She was unmarried and devoted herself to the house and the affairs of the neighbourhood. And when I was as they say ‘nursing’ Swaddingham, it seemed a stroke of good luck that this place was in the family. I came here for a while and lived with her. She was a martinet… a woman of great character; but we liked each other; and when she died the house passed on to me.”

“I think it is a wonderful house,” I said.

Drake smiled at me happily. “I’m so glad.”

True to his promise he took Katie riding. She was in a state of bliss; and it was such a joy to see her seated on the pony and Drake himself holding the leading reins and taking her round the paddock. With Grand’mere and Cassie I watched.

“Look at me,” cried Katie. “I’m riding.”

That was such a happy morning..

After luncheon, Katie was tired out—I think with excitement more than anything else. I thought she should have a rest, so she went to bed. Drake asked if I would care to go for a ride with him. I said I should love to. I had ridden a great deal when I lived at The Silk House but there had been few opportunities to do so since.

Grand’mere said she would like to rest too and Cassie volunteered to go and sit in my room so that if Katie woke she would not find herself alone in a strange house.

Drake procured a suitable mount for me and we rode off.

”I want to show you the neighbourhood,” he said. ”It’s rather beautiful. You wouldn’t believe you were so near to London. It couldn’t be more convenient for me.”

“No, and your sister is so helpful.”

“I was hoping you would like her. Isabel is a good sort.”

“I think she is charming.”

“She likes you very much.”

“She hardly knows me yet.”

“She has heard of you … from me. She is full of admiration for your enterprise. I told her about all that. She thinks it is wonderful to have achieved so much.”

“I must say I have enjoyed my work.”

“Do you think people ever succeed in anything they don’t enjoy?”

“Perhaps not.”

”Still worried about that expansion?”

“Well, we do have it on our minds. The Countess talks of little else, and I know Grand’mere thinks we ought to do it. So do I for that matter. …”

“Yes, you are deeply immersed.”

“We have been lucky. Knowing the Countess was the best thing that could have happened.”

“It was a way of escape … from your unhappiness.”

“Yes, exactly that.”

“But you are growing away from that now.”

“One does … in time, I suppose.”

“But you still think a great deal of the past?”

“It is there. One can’t escape from it.”

“I understand. Do you think …”He paused and I waited for him to go on. But he seemed to change his mind. “This is where our land ends,” he said.

“It’s quite an extensive estate.”

“It needs a lot of managing. Fortunately I have a good man. It’s a part time job with me.”

“The main one being politics.”

“Yes, but I don’t have to worry. If I’m detained in London everything goes on smoothly here.”

“You seem to have it all worked out beautifully.”

”I have been so anxious for you to see it… and to realize what it is like here … and in London. I have to do a lot of entertaining in both places. My sister of course is a great help here … but she does have her own home.”

“She is so fond of you.”

“Yes. She has always been the little mother.”

I felt I wanted to sing. He was going to ask me to marry him; and I was going to say Yes. Life was going to change. He would be a good father to Katie. Children needed a father—and some women—like myself—needed a husband.

We had come to a field. I said: “Let’s gallop.” And we did across the field, pulling up sharply before a hedge. It was most exhilarating.

I thought I understood. He was going to ask me to marry him but he was hesitating. He would ask me before I left. He wanted me to understand all that marriage with him would entail. He wanted to be absolutely sure that I could forget the past. That was why he had been so eager for me to come here for the Christmas holiday. He could not forget that I was Lenore and that my name was that of one of the most exclusive dress estab-lishments in London. He wanted so much to be sure … for both of us to be sure. I had to convince him that although I was dedicated to a successful business, I should consider love and marriage more important.

It had been a most happy afternoon but there was an unpleasant surprise awaiting me.

We returned to the stables, a groom took our horses, and we went into the house. Isabel was there with a woman splendidly attired in sables. It was Julia.

She rushed forward to greet Drake.

“Here I am,” she said. “It is so good to see you.”

Drake looked bewildered.

“I shall stay only until after Christmas. Of course we had to spend that together. I understood perfectly what you meant when you said you had to be here.”

“Hello, Julia,” I said. “I had no idea that you were coming here.”

“Well, Drake and I understand each other. He was very insistent on my knowing that he was spending his Christmas here so I knew what he meant and that he was expecting me. Drake dear, I’m sorry I couldn’t come before. There was the Harringtons’ dinner party last night. I had to go. They insisted. Otherwise I could have come yesterday.”

Isabel said: “We shall have to get a room ready.”

”How sweet of you.”

“And you have your maid with you?”

“Annette … yes.”

“She will have to sleep in one of the attics. There is one she could have.”

“How kind! Drake you are very remiss, you know. Why didn’t you tell Mrs. Denton that I was coming?”

“It is a surprise to me.”

“Oh Drake … when you told me … I thought it was understood. …”

“Well, now you are here … Isabel will see to everything.”

“Isn’t that nice? I love this old place. It’s so quaint. And Cassie is here?”

I nodded.

“I’m so pleased. Families ought to be together… especially at Christmas.”

The visit had changed now. Julia had spoilt it.

Christmas! It should have been such a happy time. The carol singers came as soon as it was dark. They stood outside with their lanterns and rendered all the well-loved carols: “Once in Royal David’s City”; “Come All Ye Faithful”; “Good King Wenceslas” … and many more.

Katie was delighted and sang with them and afterwards helped to hand round the mulled wine and mince pies. That night she went to bed at her usual time and was soon fast asleep. The house had become like home to her.

After we had dined that evening we went up to the long gallery where a fire had been lighted.

“We always come up here on Christmas Eve,” Isabel explained. “We roast chestnuts and drink port wine. One always feels one has to cling to old traditions which have been passed down through the centuries.”

“It’s rather eerie,” said Julia. “That old gentleman looks as though he is going to step out of his frame and give us a good talking to.”

“He certainly looks rather severe,” agreed Drake. “That’s great great grandfather William. He was an admiral. There is a strong naval tradition in the family.”

”And some of these old gentlemen must be rather cross with you, Drake, for not carrying out the family tradition.”

Cassie said: “Are you afraid they might show their displeasure in some way?”

“They have been in their graves … for a long time.”

“Some say they live on afterwards,” said Cassie, “and some come back.”

”Even if they did I intend to do what I want to with my life as they did with theirs,” Drake told her.

“Why do they always connect revenants with old houses?” I ssked. “You rarely hear of haunted cottages. It is always big houses.”

Grand’mere said: ”The dead are dead… and however much one wants to have them back one cannot.” I knew she was thinking of my mother and Philip.

“This is actually the haunted gallery, isn’t it?” asked Cassie who appeared to be fascinated by the subject.

“Supposed to be,” said Drake.

“Is there some story … ?”

Drake looked at Isabel who said: “Well, there is.”

“Do tell us,” begged Cassie.

“Cassie,” I warned, “you won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“I don’t care. I long to hear.”

“You tell them,” said Drake to his sister.

“Well, the gallery is supposed to be haunted by a young girl … one of our family, of course. She was sixteen years old and it happened about two hundred years ago. She was in love with a young man and her father would not allow her to marry him. Instead he had found another husband for her—a rich ageing man. In those days girls had to obey their parents.”

“As they do not always do now,” added Grand’mere.

“I daresay there were some who did not then,” I suggested.

“Well, Anne Aldringham did. She said goodbye to her lover and married the man of her father’s choice. After the wedding all the guests came back here for the celebrations.” She closed her eyes. “Sometimes when I come up here I fancy I can hear the minstrels’ music. They were dancing downstairs in the great hall and suddenly they found that the bride was missing.”

“It’s like the mistletoe bough,” murmured Cassie.

“Not quite. They were not playing hide and seek and she was not locked in a chest where she stayed for a hundred years. She came up here and jumped out of a window. It is said to be that one.” Isabel pointed. “She jumped to her death.”

“Oh, poor poor Anne,” murmured Cassie.

“She should have run away with her lover,” said Julia. “I should.” She looked tenderly at Drake who did not meet her eyes.

“Well, she did not,” went on Isabel. “Instead she jumped out of that window.”

“And now,” suggested Cassie, “she haunts the place.”

“On certain occasions, it is said. When any of the family is about to marry someone who would bring him or her unhappi-ness, she is supposed to come through that window and walk along the gallery wringing her hands and crying, ‘Beware! Beware!’ “

“Have you ever seen her?” I asked Isabel.

She shook her head.

“So presumably all the marriages have been happy,” said Cassie.

“If you believe the story, yes. I don’t think the ghost is going to appear for us.”

Julia was looking steadily at me. “What a cheerful subject for a Christmas Eve. I hope my room is well away from the wailing lady.”

“You wouldn’t hear her down in your room,” consoled Isabel.

”Thank Heaven for that.”

“Let me give you some more port,” said Drake.

“Oh, isn’t this cosy!” Julia smiled round the company. “Christmas in this wonderful house … with wonderful people …” She lifted her glass. “Happy Christmas … to all.”

Her eyes had come to rest on Drake and they stayed there.

On Christmas morning we went to church. Julia came with us rather to my surprise, but she did seem as though she were determined not to let Drake out of her sight more than was possible.

I felt vaguely uneasy. I would never forget her fury when we were children and she had realized that Drake had left The Silk House because of me. She had looked quite murderous then.

I was now convinved that she wanted to marry Drake. I was sure he had not invited her although she had suggested that he had, or that she had misunderstood something he had said and had interpreted it as an invitation. It was too far-fetchecd. If he had wanted her to come why should he not have asked her outright in the normal way. The truth would be that Mia had discovered that I was at Swaddingham and had determined to come too.

I knew that she was drinking a great deal. It was becoming obvious in her high colour and her occasional aggressiveness and in the rather unguarded remarks she would make when she was a little less than sober.

I wondered if Drake was aware of this. He was always extremely courteous and, after the initial shock of finding her here, had played the perfect host.

There was the traditional Christmas dinner eaten at midday; turkey followed by Christmas pudding brought ablaze to the table and served with brandy butter—and then of course mince pies. Several of the neighbours, friends who supported Drake as their member of Parliament, were present; and there was a great deal of conversation about political affairs, and an election which seemed imminent.

After lunch we rested awhile.

I was very grateful to Drake for taking a little time to lead Katie round the paddock in the afternoon—a source of great delight to her; and I liked to see how happy she and Drake were together.

There were more guests in the evening when we had a cold buffet supper and minstrels came in and played. There was dancing in the long gallery which lost its eeriness with so many people present.

Drake had to dance with all the female guests and I had only one with him. He asked me if I was enjoying my stay and I assured him that I was. He said he was glad. He had so much wanted me to come down and see everything. He wanted me to tell him frankly what I thought about the life a politician was expected to lead.

“You know what I think of that,” I told him. “It must be one of the most interesting professions possible.”

”Even better than running an exclusive dress salon? “

“That has its points,” I replied.

“I’m sure it has.”

“Isabel is wonderful in the way she copes with everything.”

“She has done it all her life. First at home, then with Harry and now with me. Isabel is a wonderful person.”

“I know. Nothing ruffles her. She was quite unprepared for Julia and did not show it.”

“Yes. She certainly did not.”

I was waiting for him to assure me that he had not invited her. It was important to me that he should not have done so.

But he said nothing and I could not ask.

Later I saw him with Julia. She was very flushed and laughing all the time; and he was smiling as though he were enjoying the dance. One would never really know what he was feeling.

When I went to my room that evening Katie was fast asleep. I bent over and kissed her lovely innocent face. I prepared slowly for bed. I knew I should find sleep difficult. A sense of disappointment was still with me. It had come with Julia’s arrival.

I kept thinking about Drake and Julia. I kept seeing them dancing together. She had a proprietorial manner towards him, and he did not seem to resent this. Or did he? He did not show his feelings; his manners were impeccable; he had to play the perfect host. Had he invited her? I was unsure.

I could not sleep. I lay staring out of the window. I looked over at Katie sleeping peacefully. She was mine entirely and while I had her I must be happy … no matter what. But my disappointment and frustration stayed with me.

Suddenly I was wide awake. Something was happening upstairs. I got out of bed and put on my dressing gown and slippers.

I went out and up the stairs to the long gallery. A few candles had been lighted and they burned fitfully in their sconces. I saw Isabel. She was seated on a settle, a young girl beside her. The girl was crying.

“It’s all right,” said Isabel, when she saw me. “Patty was feeling a little hysterical.”

The girl said: “But I heard it, M’am. I heard it distinct. It was awful ghostly like. …”

Drake had come hurrying up.

“What on earth is happening?” he demanded.

Isabel said: “Patty’s had a nightmare.”

“Oh no it wasn’t… .” said Patty. Three of the other maids emerged from the shadows.

“I heard it too,” said one of them. “Oh, it was terrible. I never heard the like… . Someone was crying something aw-ful. She said, ‘Beware! Beware! …’ Three times she said it. Oh, it was terrible, M’am. I was shivering for it turned terrible cold sudden like.”

“That was because you were only in your night things.”

Julia had come to the top of the stairs. Her hair was hanging about her shoulders becomingly and she was clutching a pale lavender negligee about her.

“What’s wrong? Oh, my goodness. What has happened? That poor girl. She looks scared out of her wits.”

“Patty has had a nightmare,” repeated Isabel.

Patty shook her head, her teeth chattering.

“I was wide awake, M’am. …”

“I think a little brandy, Drake,” said Isabel. “Oh, there’s Harry. Harry, Patty’s had some sort of dream. The girls are all upset. Do bring some brandy. It will quieten them down.”

Mrs. Gratten, the cook, appeared. She sailed in majestically in spite of the fact that her hair was in curl papers.

“What is it?” she said to one of the girls. “What’s wrong with Patty?”

“She’s a little hysterical, Mrs. Gratten,” said Isabel. “There’s no need for everybody to get so excited. I think they were probably frightening themselves with ghost stories before going to bed.”

“No we wasn’t, M’am,” said one of the girls. “Nobody said nothing about a ghost. It just came into Patty’s head. And I heard it, too. It wasn’t fancy. It was the real thing. You could tell.”

Julia said:’ ‘It wasn’t that ghost you were telling us about… the one who comes in through the window and weeps and cried, ‘Beware’?”

“Yes, M’am, that’s it,” said Patty. “I heard her footsteps all along the gallery. She was crying something awful and she said, ‘Beware.’ That was it.”

“Oh, here’s Harry with the brandy,” said Isabel. “Thank you, Harry. Now you girls, drink this and get to bed.”

“I’ll see to them, Mrs. Denton,” said the cook. “I don’t know what things are corning to … rousing the household like this.”

“But it was the ghost, Mrs. Gratten,” insisted Patty. “It was truly.”

Drake said: “I think we all need a little fortification. Come down to the drawing room.”

We followed him down. He poured out the brandy and very soon Isabel joined us.

“I hope all this didn’t wake Katie,” she said.

“No. I looked in. She was sleeping peacefully.”

“Oh … good.”

“What an extraordinary thing,” said Julia. “After we’d been talking … What do you think that girl really heard?”

“Someone has been telling her the story, I should think,” I said.

“That is very likely,” agreed Isabel.

“It really was rather strange,” went on Julia. “In any case you’d better take it as a warning, Drake.”

Drake raised his eyebrows.

“Well, isn’t it something to do with an impending marriage … warnings and all that? You’re the only marriageable member of the family. Don’t you agree with me?”

“I always thought Patty was the hysterical type.”

“It was odd all the same,” said Julia. “The brandy is deli-ciously warming.”

“A little more?” suggested Harry.

“Oh yes please,” said Julia.

I said: “I am going now. I don’t want Katie to wake up and find me not there.”

“Poor Lenore,” consoled Julia. “You look really shocked. You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”

“Do you?” I asked.

Julia laughed and lifting her hand swayed from side to side. “Not really. But it is rather odd. I wonder if that girl overheard us talking… .”

“I daresay she had heard the story somewhere. Good night.”

I left them.

Katie was still sleeping. I knew I could not hope to. I lay in bed for some time listening to the noises of the house … the boards which creaked as they always did in old houses … and the wind seemed to moan in the trees and to whisper softly, ‘Beware.”

The rest of that visit was something of an anticlimax. Everyone seemed embarrassed except Katie. She wanted her riding lesson which Drake gave her, and she seemed completely happy.

Isabel made Patty stay in bed for the next day.

“The poor girl is really shaken,” she said. “She’s the hysterical type.”

Everything had turned out so differently from what I had expected. I could see that Grand’mere was disappointed and Cassie seemed merely bewildered. It was rather a relief to leave—but Katie felt very sad.

“It has been lovely,” she said, flinging her arms round Drake. “Take care of Bluebell till I come back.”

Drake assured her that he would make sure that the pony was well cared for.

We left Julia there. She was one at least who had enjoyed Christmas.

It was about two days later when Grand’mere said that she wished to talk to me alone for she had something very important to say to me.

”Lenore,” she began, ”you know that I went to Villers-Mure not long ago.”

“Yes, Grand’mere.”

“When I was there … I met someone.”

“Who?”

“I met… your father.”

“Grand’mere!”

“It’s true.”

“I thought you did not know who my father was.”

She was silent. “I have told you something of our family history. It is not always easy to explain to a child. To talk of it was most upsetting and I am afraid I was something of a coward.”

“Tell me now.”

“You know that your mother, my daughter Marie Louise, was a girl of exceptional beauty. It was natural that she should attract men. We were humble. I was left a young widow and had to work for my living and like most people in Villers-Mure I worked at the St. Allengere establishment, and when Marie Louise was old enough she was given a place there. You know what happened. She fell in love. You were born. She died … perhaps of fear and grief. Women do die in childbirth even when the future is bright for them. I do not know… . All I know is that she died and I was heartbroken …for she was my life… . Then I realized that she had left me you … and that changed everything.”

“Yes, Grand’mere, you have told me this.”

“You knew that the great Alphonse St. Allengere arranged for me to come to England to work for the Sallongers. The reason he did that was because he did not want me to remain where I was.”

“Why?” I asked. Grand’mere was finding it difficult to tell me this; she was not her usual loquacious self.

She frowned and said: “Because your father was his youngest son.”

“So … you did know who my father was!”

“Marie Louise told me … just before you were born.”

“And he would not marry her?”

“He was only a boy. Seventeen years old and I can tell you Alphonse St. Allengere is a very formidable man. The whole of Villers-Mure went in fear and trembling of him. He held our lives in the palm of his hand. Everyone dreaded his frowns, his sons no less than any others. There was no question of a St. Allengere marrying one of the girls who worked in the factory. Your father did his best. He truly loved Marie Louise, but his father was adamant. He was sent away to an uncle who owned a vineyard in Burgundy. When I went to Villers-Mure I made enquiries. By great good fortune he was on a visit to his family so I was able to talk to him. I told him about you … how you were now a widow with a young child. He was very touched.” “I knew there was something. I could see it in your face when you returned.”

“He is in London now.”

I stared at her.

She nodded happily. “Yes, he has said he must see you. Naturally he wanted to know his own daughter. He is coming here.”

She looked at me intently as though to assess the effect of this bombshell. I have to admit that I was astounded. To be brought face to face with a father one has never known could be a shattering experience. I was not sure whether I looked forward to it or dreaded it.

Grand’mere went on: “It is not natural for those who are so close to be strangers to each other.”

“But after all these years, Grand’mere …”

“Ma cherie, he longs to meet you. You could make him very happy. He has come all this way to see you.”

“When is he coming?”

“This evening. I have asked him to dine with us.”

“But… this is so unexpected. …”

“I thought it wise not to tell you until it was all arranged.”

“Why?”

“I did not know how you would feel. Perhaps there would be some resentment. All those years he has not seen you … The years of struggle for us. He is a very rich man. He owns vineyards in various parts of France. The St. Allengeres are always successful whatever they take up. His father is proud of him now. It is a different matter from when he was young.”

”I do not greatly care for this father of his …my grandfather, I suppose.”

“He had great power. And sometimes that is not good for people. He is old now but he is still the same Alphonse St. Allengere. He still rules Villers-Mure and is undoubtedly the greatest producer of silk in the world.”

“And tonight…”

She nodded.

I was so overcome that I found it difficult to analyse my feelings. Should I tell Katie? What should I say to her? “This is your grandfather.” She would ask interminable questions. Where had he been all this time?

Fortunately she would be in bed before he came and I should have a chance of meeting him and perhaps breaking the news gradually of how a grandfather had appeared out of the blue.

I dressed carefully in a scarlet gown and waited in trepidation for his coming. Grand’mere was rather agitated, too. I was glad that the Countess and Cassie were present. They helped to subdue the emotion which Grand’mere and I were feeling.

At the appointed hour the doorbell rang. Rosie, our maid, announced him.

“Mr. Sallonger,” she said, finding it impossible to pronounce his name and giving the anglicized version.

And there he was.

I looked at him in amazement. He was the man I had seen in the park, the one who had retrieved Katie’s ball and had appeared to be watching me.

What an exciting evening that was! So much was said that it is difficult for me to remember now and in what order. I remember his taking both my hands and looking into my eyes. He said: “We have met before … in the park.”

I nodded in agreement.

“I was on the point of making myself known many times,” he went on, “but I hesitated. Now … we are together at last.”

How amazing it was, I thought, that when I had seen him in the park I had believed him to be a stranger; and he was in fact my father!

During the dinner, at which Cassie and the Countess were present, he talked about his vineyards. He spoke in English and now and then had to grope for the words he needed. He wanted to hear of our salon and the Countess was most voluble on the subject.

She talked amusingly of our clients and the manner in which they followed each other like sheep. One had a Lenore gown and they all must. It was inevitable that she should come to the matter which was uppermost in her mind.

“By hook or by crook I shall get us to Paris,” she said. “That is the centre of fashion and worthwhile houses must in time have connections there. It is an essential in the long run.”

“I can see that,” he said. “And at the moment you have not this … connection?”

“No, but we will.”

“When do you propose to set up there?”

“When we have the good fortune … and I mean fortune … so to do,” said the Countess. ”I’m all for it but my partners are cautious. They want to wait until we can pay for it. The good Lord knows when that will be.”

He nodded gravely and Grand’mere abruptly changed the subject.

After dinner, the Countess and Cassie left him alone with me; and then we spoke in French of which language I had been made fairly fluent by Grand’mere; and of course she was in her natural element.

“I have thought of you often,” he said. “I have wanted so much to find you and when your grandmother came to Villers-Mure and I happened to be visiting my family home it seemed like Providence. She told me a great deal about you. How you had this wonderful business. The St. Allengeres always prospered in business.”

“Our prosperity is largely due to the Countess, is it not, Grand’mere? She is a superb saleswoman, and she showed us what innocents we were. We should have foundered without her.”

“I want to know a great deal about your business. But first let us talk about ourselves. You must understand that I truly loved your mother. It was the shame of my life that I let myself be sent away. I should have stood by her. I should have defied my father. But I was young … I was weak and foolish. I was not strong enough. I should have married her. Instead I let them send me away.”

Grand’mere nodded.

He looked at her and said: “How you must have reviled me when I did.”

“Yes,” said Grand’mere frankly, “I did. Marie Louise did not blame you. She defended you to me. She said you did what you had to do. Your father was determined and he is a very powerful and ruthless man.”

“And still is,” he added grimly. “It was good for me to escape from his domination. I found my life among the vines rather than the mulberries. But it is all so long ago.”

“And nothing can bring Marie Louise back.”

“Perhaps she would have died in any case,” I said.

They were silent.

Then he told us how he had gone away to stay with his uncle who owned a vineyard and how he became interested in wine. “I threw myself into the work,” he said. “It was a solace. My uncle said that I should be a good vintner. So I stayed with him. Then I had my own vineyards. I worked hard. I married my wife who brought me property, and now we have our family.”

“And you are happy?” I said.

“I do not complain. I have a son and a daughter.”

“I saw Marie Louise’s grave had not been neglected,” said Grand’mere.

“I always go there when I visit the family. And I have paid one of the peasants to look after it. If it is possible that she could be aware she will know that I have not forgotten.”

He and Grand’mere talked of my mother for a while—how pleased and proud she would have been of me and Katie—whom he had found enchanting. It had delighted him to realize that she was his granddaughter.

“And you have suffered,” he said to me. “Madame Clere-mont has told me of your husband’s death and how you have devoted yourself to that dear child.”

“She is a great joy to me,” I told him.

We fell into silence again and after a while he said: “I was interested in what the Countess was saying about your salon, and how she thought you should open in Paris. She is right, you know.”

“Oh yes, we know she has a point, but my grandmother and I are against it… for the time being at any rate. We have not been so very long in business here and once … in the beginning … we came near to disaster. That has made us cautious.”

“But,” he said, “it is a move you must take.”

Grand’mere was watching him intently and I had a notion that she knew what he was going to say.

It came. “Perhaps I could be of assistance.”

I looked at him in astonishment.

He went on: “It is something I should dearly love to do. I am not a poor man. I have my vineyards. We have good years when all goes well; the weather is kind to us, and the leaf hoppers and the rot worms decide to leave us alone… . Then we make good profits. I have not done too badly. I would take it as a privilege if you would allow me to help with this Paris addition.”

“Oh,” I said quickly, “that is good of you but, of course, we don’t want to borrow money. …”

“How right you are. What does your Shakespeare say: ‘Neither a borrower nor a lender be… .’ But I was not thinking of a loan. You are my daughter. Should there not be these things between a father and his daughter? Let me finance this Paris branch … as a kind of dowry to my daughter.”

I drew back in horror. I looked suspiciously at Grand’mere. She was sitting with her eyes downcast and her hands in her lap. She dared not let me see her face because she knew it would be shining with triumph.

“I could not accept that,” I said sharply.

”It would give me great pleasure.”

“Please think no more of it.”

He looked at me sadly. “I see you do not accept me as a father.”

I stammered: “I have met you for the first time tonight. We cannot count those meetings in the park. And you offer this! Do you realize what such an undertaking would cost?”

“I am of the opinion that it would not be beyond my means.”

“No, no,” I said. “It is out of the question. We have a very profitable business here. It is adequate. It gives me a very good return on the capital which my husband left me. I can bring my daughter up if not in luxury—which might not be good for her in any case—in comfort.”

“We will think about this.”

“No. Please forget it. It is most generous of you and I thank you sincerely. But I cannot accept it.”

He bowed his head.

Because I wanted to change the subject I asked him a great many questions about his vineyards. He was full of enthusiasm for them. He talked vividly about the vagaries of the climate and the effect it had. The weather was the great enemy but like many enemies, it could be a good friend. They would despair when the summers were too wet and they prayed in the churches for a warm and sunny autumn which had more than once saved the harvest. He made me feel the excitement of the vendange.

“You will come and see it,” he said. “You and the little one. Now that we have found each other we shall not lose each other again. The little one would love the vineyards.”

“I am sure she would.”

“And what happiness that would bring us.”

“But your wife and family?”

“My wife died two years ago. She was older than I. Our marriage worked well enough. My son Georges and my daughter Brigitte are both married. I believe they would be happy to meet you.”

I said: “We must come then.” I turned to Grand’mere. “Don’t you agree?”

She nodded emphatically.

It was late when he rose to go. “I will see you tomorrow,” he said. “I may call, may I not?”

“You must call whenever you wish,” said Grand’mere firmly.

She came to my room when I was in bed. I knew she would so I was prepared for her. She looked young for her age, with her hair in two plaits like a schoolgirl’s, and her plain but elegant dressing gown.

“What a night!” she said. “One to remember.”

“It is not every day a girl is presented with a father she has not known before. You arranged all this, didn’t you, Grand’mere?”

“Well…”she began.

“I know you too well,” I said. “Besides, your face always betrays you. It is the most expressive face I know. You went to France intending to find him. You told him he should see me, now didn’t you?”

“He didn’t need any persuading.”

“Then what about all those years …”

“How could he know where his daughter was?”

“So you told him where I was and that he must come and see me.”

“As soon as he knew, he wanted to see you.”

“And did you by any chance mention the salon … and the fact that there was a question of opening in Paris?”

“The Countess did that over dinner.”

“But was it entirely a surprise to him?”

“Well, I might have mentioned …”

“And now he has made this offer. I fancy it was not something he did on the spur of the moment.”

“Why this catechism? Is it not good that he should wish to do this thing?”

“So you suggested it to him?”

She lifted her shoulders. “He wanted to know how you did … what was happening … It was natural that he should wish to hear of his daughter. Oh, enough of this. You must take the money.”

“Grand’mere, I couldn’t! It is like begging. It is shameful. It is like asking a price from him because he deserted my mother.”

”You think of yourself, ma cherie. You must think of others. This will give him great pleasure. Why should he be denied that because of your pride?”

“Grand’mere, you surely do not want to take his money!”

“Most gladly, would I. It will give us what we need … that salon in Paris. I have always known it was necessary for us. I have always said to myself, ‘Some day’ … and now it has come and you are turning away from it.”

“I can’t take it, Grand’mere.”

“So we are all to suffer for your folly. You, I, the Countess, Cassie … and your father.”

“But surely …”

She shook her head. “Think of that man. He is beside himself with contrition. He wants a chance to right the wrong he did your mother. It has been on his conscience for years. If he could do this thing he would be so happy. He would feel that he had made some recompense. But Madame Lenore… she says No. My pride, my precious pride … must come first.”

“Grand’mere, how can you put it that way?”

“I put it the way it is. Now I go, my obstinate little mule. Good night. Pleasant dreams. Dream of all the good you could do and which you are refusing because of that foolish pride which is no good to God or woman.”

“Goodnight, Grand’mere.”

She turned at the door and threw me a kiss.

“May the good God keep you, my precious one,” she said.

When the Countess heard of my father’s offer she clapped her hands in glee and threw her arms round Grand’mere’s neck.

“Do not be too happy,” said Grand’mere. “Lenore has decided not to accept.”

“What?” cried the Countess.

“Something called pride.”

“Oh no!”

“Yes … alas,” said Grand’mere.

Grand’mere sat rocking from side to side, a smile playing about her mouth.

“That poor man,” she said, “that loving father. He is covered in shame because of all that happened years ago. Now he has found her and wants to show her how happy he is. He wants to bestow this outward sign of his joy … and his daughter says, ‘No. You must go on reproaching yourself.. I am not going to release you one little bit.’ Poor man. Pride is a cruel thing. It is one of the seven deadly sins, you know.”

“It isn’t like that, Grand’mere. I know now that you sought him out just for this. You were determined to find him because we needed this money to open the Paris branch. Confess.”

“I meet him. He wants to know what his daughter is doing. I tell him … and how could I not tell him of this? He listens … most intently … and he says to himself, ‘Ah, here is a chance for me to right the wrong I did to my poor Marie Louise.

This is her daughter … hers and mine … I will make her happy. I will give her this money for her business. I have plenty. I can do this with ease. But alas she will not take it. Her pride stops her.’ Never mind his remorse, his sadness. That must not be helped because of this pride … this strong stubborn pride… .

I could not help laughing and very soon the others joined in.

The Countess wanted one of her celebrations. “Cassie,” she called, “bring a bottle of champagne.”

“But I have not agreed. …”

“This is too great an opportunity to miss. You could not be so cruel to us all.”

“But don’t you see?”

“I see the future. I see that Paris salon. What we have always lacked can be ours.”

Cassie came in with the champagne.

“What’s happened?”

“Lenore’s father has offered to put up the money for the Paris salon.”

Cassie’s face was alight with joy. She put down the tray and turned to me.

“Lenore,” she said, “it’s wonderful.”

I thought: You, too, Cassie. And in the end I gave way.

Now there was bustle and excitement. I was gradually being convinced that I had done the right thing. My father was constantly at the salon. He listened to our plans with enthusiasm.

Julia called.

“The most wonderful thing has happened,” the Countess told her. “We are going to open in Paris.”

Julia listened wide-eyed.

“We have a benefactor,” said the Countess gaily. “Lenore’s father is putting up the money.”

“Lenore’s father!”

“Yes, he has appeared … out of the blue. He is charming and generous.”

My father came in while Julia was there and was introduced to her.

“I’ve seen you before,” she said.

“You were with us in the park,” I reminded her.

“Oh yes, I remember. The admirer. We joked about it. We said Lenore had an admirer.”

“So she has,” said my father.

“How wonderful! You must tell me all about it.”

The Countess could not stop talking. Even I was quite caught up in the project now, and when I saw the joy my acceptance had brought my father, I began to think they were all right.

“You are wise,” said Julia. “Most of the houses have Paris branches. You will go zooming ahead now.”

She talked of Christmas. “It was a pleasant time, wasn’t it … until that girl had hysterics in the gallery. Everyone seemed to take that to heart. I suppose they think a lot about that sort of thing in the country. I expect Drake is working hard down there. He said he had to do a bit of ‘nursing.’ This is the time to do it. He has to be ready for this election … letting them all know how much he cares about them.”

She kissed me effusively and went off.

That very day it was arranged that I should go with the Countess and my father to Paris. We were going to stay there until we had found the premises and set things in motion.

I was now as eager as any of them; my father was so happy. He would be of great help, said the Countess; not only was he a business man, but he was also French, and we should have to remember that we were in France.

“We are not likely to forget it,” I told her.

She clapped her hands and murmured: “Paris”—as though Paris was heaven.

So I left Katie in the charge of Grand’mere and Cassie and with my father and the Countess I set out. From the moment we left the Gare du Nord, I was caught up in the excitement of that most enchanting of cities and I was convinced—as was the Countess—that our venture was going to be a success. It was comforting to be in the care of my father, for the city was a little bewildering. He had taken on all the arrangements; he knew exactly what we should do first. He was in high spirits and I realized how happy I had made him—as well as the others—by accepting this offer.

He hustled us into a cab and gave the cocher instructions to take us to our hotel in the Rue de la Fayette. I shall never forget that ride through the streets of Paris where everyone seemed so full of vitality. We passed markets where I glimpsed barrows on the pavements; the cafes and restaurants where, in the summer, my lather told me, I should see people eating and drinking at the tables in the open air as they liked to live out of doors. The traffic seemed to move in all directions and the drivers shouted to each other above the hubbub of the streets.

My father pointed out landmarks as we went along.

“Oh, you will love exploring Paris. I shall show you Montmartre … Notre Dame… . Oh, there is so much I shall show you.”

“First,” the Countess reminded him, “we have to find our premises.”

“Ah yes, I do not forget, dear Countess, that is the object of our visit.”

Soon we were installed in our hotel. I had a large high-ceilinged room with a balcony from which I could look down on the street. We should retire early, my father suggested, and tomorrow we would begin the search.

I was excited to be here but at the same time I was thinking of Katie and wondering whether she was missing me. I was thinking of Drake and that Christmas visit which had turned out so differently from what I had expected. I was, of course, thrilled by the prospect of the opening in Paris but my home and my heart were in London. Was that because Drake was there? Oddly my feelings for him seemed to have intensified since Christmas. Before that I had been uncertain, but the overwhelming disappointment I had known when he did not ask me to marry him, had shown me my true feelings. Julia’s arrival had spoilt everything—as had that strange matter of the girl who had thought she saw a ghost.

Now I must give my mind to this Paris project. I thought: I will see them set up and then … I will marry Drake. I would always have an interest in the business, but my first and foremost care would be for my family. Katie … and Drake. I looked forward to more children … a son … another daughter. My life would be with my family. I would be a politician’s wife; and I had heard someone say once that if a marriage was to be n success there was not room in it for two careers.

We were up early next morning. Coffee and brioches had been sent to our rooms, so we were soon ready to venture out on our search. My father had secured the addresses of one or two properties and we sallied forth. One was not very far from our hotel and we walked to it.

There is something invigorating about the streets of Paris. It was a bright morning, quite warm for the time of the year. There was a smell of coffee in the air; people were already in the streets and the traffic was building up.

My father said: “Are you beginning to get the feel of Paris? As soon as the opportunity arises I shall take you to one of the highest points in the lie de la Cite—that is the top of Notre Dame, and from there you will be able to look down on the centre of Paris.”

“Thank you,” I said, “that would be wonderful.”

The Countess was impatient. We had come here for business and she was anxious for us to get on with that.

During the days that followed we looked at several premises—all of which were not quite suitable. My father did take me to a number of interesting places and sometimes the Countess accompanied us, but more often she was looking at shops and studying fashions. She was always bursting with ideas of what she should do.

“She is a very invigorating lady,” said my father, “but sometimes it is well to escape from her. Yes?”

I agreed with him. I found his company very pleasant. We were discovering each other. He was very tender to me, always anxious to make up for the years of neglect; and I was beginning to admire him, for he was undoubtedly a man of great ability. The Countess thought so. She demanded a certain amount of his time when they talked business with intensity … costings … possibilities of starting and increasing business. It was quite fascinating to hear them and I realized more and more that I should never be as dedicated as she was. She had one interest: the success of business; I had others.

I was able to give myself up to the pleasures of Paris. We walked a great deal together—my father and I. We would stroll arm in in arm along the banks of the Seine and he would talk to me of the history of the country he loved so much. He showed me the Palace of the Tuileries and that exciting monument which Gustave Eiffel had set up only a few years before. It seemed enormous towering over Paris—its chief landmark now.

“Only a part of the high cost was borne by the state,” he said in his practical businesslike manner, “the remainder by Mon-sieur Eiffel. He hopes, I hear, to get the money back—and of course more in admission fees—over the next twenty years.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I am not sure. He is now in trouble over some breach of trust over the Panama Canal. Monsieur Eiffel is a speculator … and that can be a dangerous thing to be.”

“I do agree. That is why …”

“I understand, it is wise to be cautious … and rather than speculate and lose it is better not to speculate at all. Then some say … nothing venture nothing have.”

“There is a homily for every kind of action,” lagreed. “That is why it is difficult to choose the right thing to do.”

He told me a little about his family—which was, after all, my own.

“My father is a very hard man,” he said. “He has ruled the family for many years … and he still does. He believes himself to be just and acts according to his beliefs. But he has little pity for anyone … and little understanding of human frailties. He is a tragic man, really. He is the most powerful man in Villers-Mure and surely the most unloved. Everyone goes in fear of him … even now, I could tremble before him. I become a different person in his presence. That is why I rarely go to Villers-Mure now. I have a vineyard bordering on it. It is one of my best vineyards. I think he has a little respect for me now as I have broken away from the family and done well in my own way without his help. He wouldn’t admit it… but it is there. It is for that reason that I am received at his house.”

“After all these years he still remembers!”

“He will remember for ever. He never forgives or forgets. One has to displease him once and that is enough. My sisters and my brothers were all in awe of him … still are. The villagers tremble at his approach and get out of the way as quickly as possible.”

“He sounds like a monster. Surely nowadays …”

“He lives in the past. His great preoccupation is silk. He is the greatest silk producer in the world. That is what he has always aimed to be and that is what he intends to remain.”

“He must be getting old now.”

“He is seventy.”

“And he still behaves like a tyrant.” He nodded. “It is a sort of tradition throughout the village and the factories. After all Villers-Mure is the silk works. People depend on him. If they lose their livelihood they will starve. So he has become the master of them all.”

“He sounds like a monster,” I said. “I had hoped to meet him one day.”

“That is hardly likely. He would never receive you.”

“Would he not want to see his granddaughter?”

”He would not recognize you as such. He is strictly religious … if you can call what he has religion. He will not tolerate what he calls immorality. He says he is determined to keep Villers-Mure pure. When the girls marry he calculates the time elapsing between the ceremony and the birth of the first child. If it is not nine months there is an enquiry.”

“I do not feel exactly endeared to him.”

“That matters not as you will never meet him.”

“It’s a pity. I should have liked to see Villers-Mure.”

“You will come very close to it when you visit me in my vineyard. My sister who is married and lives close by will welcome you.”

“So it is just this old man whom I shall not see?”

He nodded. “Cheer up. You are happier without seeing him. He spends a great deal of time in church … goes to Mass every day and twice on Sundays. It is a strange view he has of what is right. It hardly conforms to the Christian Faith. I believe he would like to set up the Inquisition in France. He thinks that all those who are not members of the Catholic Church are sinners, He has never forgiven that branch of the family which broke away all those years ago … they were the Huguenots … though he is following what they are doing in England. Oh, he is still aware of the family … even though they have gone away and adopted another country and even call themselves Sallongers. He will see them when they come to France. He always hopes to bring them back to the Catholic Church.”

“It is always very interesting to hear about one’s family, and before this I had had only Grand’mere.”

” She is a good woman,” he said. “She stood up to my father. The only person who ever has. I think he has a grudging admiration for her. He it was who sent you with her into England to be with that branch of the family there who call themselves Sallongers. And now … you have married one of them.”

Each day I learned more and we grew closer.

Meanwhile the Countess had found exactly what she wanted, It was a shop, small but elegant and close to the Champs-Elysees.

“A good spot,” declared the Countess. “It is just the thing.”

She was eager for my father to see it, which he did and approved wholeheartedly.

I loved the Champs-Elysees, the Cours la Reine and the magnificent Arc de Triomphe. I loved to see the children at play in the gardens. I thought: I will take Katie there. She shall have a hoop to bowl. It must be beautiful in the summer when the little tables with their brightly coloured umbrellas are brought out.

I was drawn into the excitement of planning for the salon. There were fewer jaunts. My father was almost as excited as the Countess. She herself was working tirelessly. She could not wait to get everything in motion; she chafed against the delays; she wanted to see those splendid creations of Grand’mere’s in that window and several seamstresses working away in the room behind the showroom.

Completing negotiations took longer than we had thought it would. We had been away for six weeks. I felt it was an age since I had seen Katie and I was longing to get back. I had bought her several presents including a big doll which was unlike any doll I had seen before. It was an elegant Parisian lady with clothes which came off and on; and when she closed her eyes, which she did when she was held back-wards, her beautiful lashes lay luxuriantly against her pink-tinted china cheeks.

It was wonderful to be going home. I was on deck for the first glimpse of the white cliffs.

Then there was the journey to London.

They were waiting for us when we arrived. Katie flung herself into my arms.

“Oh Mama … it has been such a long time!”

“We shall never be parted again for so long,” I promised her.

And there was Grand’mere ready to welcome me … but all was not well. Grand’mere’s looks betrayed that.

“How is everything?” I demanded.

“Very well. Very well,” she replied too vehemently, so that I knew that she was not telling the truth. Grand’mere’s face always betrayed her.

There was a great deal of talk. The Countess was bursting with news of our wonderful find in Paris. Soon we should be opening. The formalities drove her mad. Why could not the buying of premises be a straightforward affair? There had to be this … and that … and it was all quite maddening.

Cassie was delighted to see us.

“We’ve been waiting and waiting to hear that you were coming home, haven’t we, Katie?”

Katie nodded. She kept close to me holding my hand as though to prevent my going away again. I was very touched.

I had the news from Grand’mere that night after everyone had retired. I went to her room and demanded to know what was wrong.

She looked at me steadily for a few moments and then she said: “Drake is getting married.”

“What?” I cried. “To Julia,” she added. I could only stare at her, all my dreams of the future suddenly dissolving round me.

“She is sending invitations to the wedding. It is to be in two weeks’ time.”

I could think of nothing to say except, “So … soon.”

“Yes. It seems it was a hasty decision.” She did not meet my gaze. I said: “Oh … well… good night.” I had to be alone. I was completely shattered. I felt suddenly numb with misery. I had not realized until then how very much I had cared for him.

I don’t know how I got through the next day. It was hard to keep smiling for Katie. She wanted to know all about Paris. I told her much of what my father had told me. I knew that both the Countess and Cassie were shocked, by the manner in which they meticulously avoided any mention of Drake.

I was bitterly wounded. I thought I should never believe my own instincts again. I had been sure that he loved me.

It was quite impossible to keep up the pretence with Grand’mere.

The next night she came to my room after the household had retired, in the way she always did when there was something to say between us two alone.

She said: ”My darling, you need not pretend with me. I know how you feel. This is one big shock to you. I wondered how best to break it. I am afraid I did it clumsily.”

“No … no, you did not. I had to know quickly.”

“And you cared for him?”

I nodded.

“I did not understand. I thought perhaps it was something you knew … I thought perhaps you had told him you would not marry him … and he had turned to her. I thought you cared for him … and I was happy about that for I thought he was a good man. Oh, mon amour, do not bottle up these feelings. Let go. … It’s only the old Grand’mere… . You and I are too close for pretence.”

“Oh Grand’mere … dear Grand’mere. I feel so … so lost and bewildered. I do not know what I feel.”

She came to me and held me in her arms rocking me as though I were a baby.

She said: “It will pass. All things pass. It is better that you do not marry such a man. He is clearly fickle … not what we thought him.”

“Just because he prefers Julia.”

“But he showed so clearly that he loved you. Then to do this … it is not understandable. He came back the day after you left. He called that very day. Cassie saw him. I made her tell me everything that took place. Poor Cassie! She thought she had done some wrong. He was only in the place five minutes. He asked for you. Cassie said: ‘She has left for Paris. She has gone with Monsieur St. Allengere and the Countess. They are going to look for premises for a salon there. They are very excited about it.’ She said those were her very words. She said his face went very white. He said: ‘I understand. I can’t stay. I must leave at once.’ She said he would not see me. She said he was not exactly curt but determined to go immediately.”

“How very strange. He had always been so friendly with us all.”

“He did not call again. And a little while ago there was this announcement of his engagement to Julia. She came here for her wedding costume.”

“Oh… no!”

“I could not turn down the order. It would have looked so odd. It would have betrayed us. The thing is made now. She’s taken it. I hated doing it. But… what does it matter anyway?”

“Did she say anything about me?”

“Oh yes. She chattered all the time. Wasn’t it wonderful that you were going to Paris at last? She knew it was what you had longed for. Wasn’t life wonderful … full of surprises? And now she was going to be married to that wonderful Drake Aldringham. She said it would be such fun. She had always wanted to be in politics … which she would be with Drake. It would involve a great deal of entertaining. Every man wanted a woman behind him … the right sort of woman. She was going to devote herself to his career.”

“She is certainly a practised hostess.”

“I think that is why he is marrying her.”

“Do you think he would be so calculating?”

She nodded slowly.

“We have been quite mistaken in him and this is a blessing in disguise. Julia went on about you. She said you should not remain a widow. ‘Do you know what I plan to do?’ she asked. ‘I am going to find a husband for her.’ “

I covered my face with my hands.

“I know, my dearest. There was something about her … something malicious. Oh, I do not trust her. She is what you say … a snake in the grass, that one. Never mind, ma cherie. They deserve each other. There will be little happiness there.”

“They will understand each other,” I said. “I obviously did not understand him.”

“He is marrying Julia for her money.”

“Somehow I can’t believe that, Grand’mere.”

“It is the general belief. Lady Travers was in here a few days ago. You know how she talks. She knows everything that is going on. Naturally she talked about Julia’s coming marriage. ‘Poor Julia,’ she said, ‘past the first flush of youth but still of an amorous nature. She was always angling for Drake Aldringham, and at last she has made him see what she can do for him.’ I said, innocently, ‘What can she do?’ ‘Drake has the seeds of something in him,’ she said. ‘He is ministerial material … might even aspire to the premiership … most of them do. Julia knows this. Wouldn’t she like to be the P.M.’s wife! She sees herself as a Mary Anne Disraeli or a Catherine Gladstone. I am sure she would not be in the least like either of them. ‘But at least she has money. And that is what Drake lacks. His family are rich enough but Drake has a special pride and wants to get on without parental assistance. ‘I said, ‘But he doesn’t mind marrying someone for it. “That, my dear Madame Cleremont, is quite another matter.’ I said I could not see that but she waved that aside. ‘She will be able to entertain all the right people. Although she hasn’t an inkling of what politics are about she will be an adept at pressing him onwards. We shall see. So this is the perfect timing—with an election in sight. The people love a wedding. Julia wants Drake and Drake wants Julia’s money— the right combination for a successful marriage. She will have to stop her drinking. She is going too far with that. But perhaps Drake will be able to stop her.’ “

“Grand’mere,” I said. “I can’t believe Drake is marrying her for her money.”

“I can think of no other reason for his doing so.”

“Oh, Grand’mere,” I said, “what am I to do?”

She stroked my hair. “There is only one thing you can do, ma cherie, and that is go on. Remember how it was when Philip died? You thought you had reached the lowest then. But time helped, did it not? And here there seemed a chance of happiness … but it was not to be. Now we have the Paris project. That is going to make us all very busy; and there is darling Katie who is so happy because you are back. The poor child has been moping and asking every day when you were coming home. He has failed you, Lenore, my love, but there are those who love you here.”

I wept a little. I felt I could not hide my feeling from Grand’mere. She brought me one of her soothing concoctions and insisted on sitting with me until I slept.

The Countess could talk of nothing but Paris. She was so busy making plans that she did not notice the change in me—or perhaps I was good at hiding my feelings.

Katie was, as ever, a solace to me. She wanted me to tell her more of Paris. “I shall be there, shall I not?”

I said she certainly would. I told her about the children playing with their hoops in the gardens.

My father had returned to Paris to continue with the negotiations. I should join him there with the Countess and Grand’mere. Cassie would stay behind and we had a good manageress who could look after everything for a few weeks.

Our invitations arrived for Julia’s wedding.

“I can’t go,” I said.

Grand’mere was silent; and I knew that meant that she thought I should. I tackled her with this.

She replied: “You cannot … how you say … wear the heart on the jacket for everyone to see. Cassie must go. She is the sister … and what of you? You were brought up with them. People will say, ‘And where is Lenore?’ And … ‘Was she not angling for the young man herself? Is it jealousy then … envy? It is certainly odd that she is not at the wedding.’ “

“It is monstrous that people should know so much of our private lives.”

“Not odd at all … they being so observant and we living as we do.”

“If I go…”

“I will make you a beautiful costume for the occasion. Velvet I think … trimmed with sable. I have a beautiful length of blue velvet … such a lovely shade … not too bright … subtle. It will suit you to perfection. A small hat with an ostrich feather … I know the thing.”

“I shall hate going.”

“I know. Just put in an appearance at the reception. You can come away quickly. The press will be there. After all he is a rising politician and she is well known for her parties in social circles.’The bride looked exquisite in her Lenore costume… . One notable absence was Lenore herself who is a close connection of the bride.’ That must not be. Lenore must be there for it will be noticed.”

“You are right, Grand’mere.”

She nodded, pleased.

I had felt since I had heard the news that I was living in a dream from which I was going to wake up. Drake was not going to marry Julia. … He couldn’t … not after all the signs he had given me. I thought often of our meetings in the park and how they had enlivened the days. And now … that was over. Those encounters which had meant so much to me had meant nothing to him.

On the wedding day I dressed in my blue velvet and set the little hat with the ostrich feather on my head.

Grand’mere and the Countess clapped their hands when they saw me.

“Perfect … perfect …” murmured the Countess.

She herself was elegantly arrayed, of course, for she would be at the reception. Julia was her protegee; she had seen her into her first marriage and was, I knew, dismayed, now that she was embarking on the second. Like Grand’mere she had designated Drake for me.

I did not go to the church. That was something I could not have endured. The reception was held in Julia’s drawing room which was large enough for the occasion.

I glimpsed Drake standing beside her helping her to cut the cake and while the speeches were made and the toasts drunk. It struck me that he did not look very happy although he was smiling.

I felt my heart leap in dismay when he caught my eyes from across the room. I lowered mine. I could not trust myself to look at him.

I thought: I must get away. I looked for Cassie. She was talking with a group of friends. I would make my way to her and ask her if she were ready to leave.

Then he was at my side.

“Lenore,” he said.

“Oh …” I steeled myself to look at him. “Drake. Congratulations.”

“Mine … to you.”

“To me?”

“On the Paris opening.”

“Oh, you have heard of that?”

“Oh yes. Everyone is talking about it. What a stroke of luck for you.”

“Yes … isn’t it?”

“So good to have rich friends.”

“My father will have a stake in the business.”

“Your father?”

“Surely you knew. Didn’t Cassie tell you when you called?”

“Cassie said you were in Paris … getting things going over there. I didn’t know about your father.”

“You saw him in the park.”

He looked bewildered,

“Don’t you remember? He watched me several times. We noticed him. Julia called him my admirer.”

He repeated: “Your father.”

“It is a most romantic story. I had never seen him before. My mother died when I was born. They weren’t married and his family sent Grand’mere to England with me.”

Again he said: “Your father…”

“What’s the matter, Drake, you look stunned.”

“Julia said …”He stared at me. “We must talk. We must get out of here.”

”You can’t leave your wedding reception. In a little while you will be leaving for your honeymoon.”

He said quietly. ‘ ‘I had no idea that the man was your father. I thought he was … your admirer … that you were taking money from him for this Paris project which was of so much importance to you.”

“You thought …”

“Yes,” he said, “that he was your lover.”

“What an idea! How did you get it? Surely you did not think … How could you? I hesitated to take the money from my father but Grand’mere and the Countess persuaded me … and he was so eager because he was ashamed of what he had done all those years ago and the fact that he had only just come back into my life.”

“This is … impossible.” He looked round helplessly. “What have I done?”

I was beginning to understand. He had believed that I had a lover, that I had become the mistress of my admirer in the park in order to advance my business. And how had he come to accept that calumny? Because Julia had told him.

I hated her then with her highly coloured face beaming triumphantly at the guests. She had won.

I felt stifled. “I want to get away,” I said.

“No,” he insisted. “I have to talk to you. I have to explain.”

“There is nothing more to explain, Drake.”

“There is everything to explain. You must have known.”

“Known what?”

“That it was you I cared for. I have been such an idiot. I wanted to tell you. I thought you were still hankering for Philip … that it was so much on your mind that you could not decide to marry again. It was you I wanted. What am I going to do?”

“You will be a good husband to Julia,” I said, and added a trifle bitterly, “She will give the right parties and you will meet influential people. That is what an ambitious politician should do. Perhaps in time she will be able to say as Lord Beaconsfield did: ‘He married me for my money but if he could do it again it would be for love.’ “

“Money!” he cried. “There is an obsession with money!”

“It is a very useful commodity.”

“You think I married her for her money!”

”As you thought I had given myself for it.”

“There has been a terrible misunderstanding. Oh, Lenore, we must meet.”

”I don’t think we should meet alone.”

“There is so much I have to tell you.”

“I know that you thought I had taken a rich lover in order to set up business in Paris. That you could think I could do such a thing appalls me. You could not have known me at all. I understand your shock. And then you just say, ‘She has bartered herself for money, and so will I.’ You thought your method was respectable … more so than the one you attributed to me—but even if it were so you would have been equally immoral in my eyes.”

“Lenore …”

I said: “We are becoming too vehement. This is supposed to be a lighthearted party. You should be telling me about your honeymoon. Where is it going to be? How you hope the weather will be clement… and so on, and so on …”

“When I heard,” he went on, “I was shattered. I called at the house. It seemed to confirm what Julia had told me.”

“But Julia knew he was my father. She knew he was putting up the money.”

“How could she … ?” he murmured. “I shall hate her now.”

”You are speaking of your wife.”

“Yes, God help me.”

“How could you!” I cried. “Oh … how could you?”

“It happened,” he said. “I was … shattered … bewildered … maddened … when I called at your place and was told you had gone to Paris … with that man. I knew the Countess was with you. I imagined that she would be arranging the premises while you were making love with your lover to pay for the venture. …”

“Drake!”

“I know … now. I should have thought more clearly. I walked about the streets for a long time… trying to tell myself that I had had a lucky escape.”

“As I have been telling myself…”I said.

“How could we, Lenore … either of us!”

I said nothing and he continued: “I went to Julia. I dined with her. I drank too much. So did Julia. She often does. It seemed to me the best way of forgetting. Next morning I found myself in her bed. I was so ashamed. I wanted to get right away. I went back to Swaddingham. I stayed there trying to get the episode out of my mind… . She wrote to me. There was going to be a child … the result of that night. There was only one thing I could do … so I did it.”

“Oh Drake … what a mess we have made of everything.”

“What shall we do?”

“There is only one thing we can do. We must go on from here. I am a little happier now knowing that you did love me … that comforts me a little. I was not mistaken in that.”

”I love you. I have always loved you. It started at that moment when I brought you out of the mausoleum.”

“This is so strange,” I said. “Here we are declaring our love at your wedding reception when you have just been married to someone else. Was there ever such a situation before?”

He took my hand and pressed it.

“Lenore, I shall never forget you.”

“That is something we must do as quickly as possible … forget each other.”

“It is impossible.”

“Hello, Lenore.” It was Julia. “Is all well? Drake is looking after you?”

“I must go,” I said coolly.

“So busy with the Paris project! We understand, don’t we, Drake? We shall have to go and change soon.”

He was silent. There was a look of abject misery on his face, and when she took his arm I saw him shrink.

I said: “I will go and find Cassie. Goodbye.” And I left them.