Текст книги "Gossamer Cord"

Автор книги: Philippa Carr

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“You’re not thinking of transferring your favors, are you?”

“Don’t be an idiot!”

“When you are married you will have to settle down, you know.”

“What’s all this about? I merely said I thought he was rather pleased…and interested.”

“I suppose anyone would be interested in someone who was going to join their family.”

She looked at me in exasperation, and I felt vaguely perturbed. She had fallen in love with Dermot at great speed. I wondered whether she could fall out of love as quickly. This was absurd. She had always been susceptible to admiration—and she would naturally assume that Gordon Lewyth’s interest was admiration.

She said: “I think the father liked me, too. He told me it would be a pleasure to have a pretty young girl about the place.”

“So you have made a good impression on your future in-laws.”

“I think so. Dermot wants to get married in the spring. Do you think that would be a good idea?”

“It seems rather soon. Has it occurred to you that this time last year you did not know him?”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Something, I should imagine. After all, you want to know quite a lot about people with whom you propose to spend the rest of your life.”

“Dermot and I know a good deal about each other.”

“And he still wants to marry you?” I retorted in mock surprise.

“Don’t tease! I think we are going to have an exciting time here. I was dreading it in a way. I did not think it would be like this. They have welcomed me so wonderfully…Matilda…and…Dermot’s father.”

“And Gordon Lewyth,” I said.

She frowned slightly. “I’m not altogether sure about him. He is not easy to know. I think he is very interested, but…”

I laughed at her. I said: “If Dermot’s father approves, that’s all that matters really. And as for Matilda…she likes you. I suppose she will continue to run the house and frankly, I can’t see you wanting to do that. I’m sure she can’t, either, and that will surely please her.”

She laughed.

“It is wonderful. I am sure about this, Vee…I really am. Particularly now I’ve seen it all.”

“Well, then, everything should be all right. So…should we say goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Twinnie.”

I smiled. It was the name she used for me when she was in some quandary from which she wanted me to extricate her. Now it was meant to be a reminder of the closeness between us, but I did wonder if she was quite as contented—and as certain—as she wanted me to believe.

When she had gone I undressed and got into bed.

I lay for a long time listening to the gentle swishing of the waves below and wondering what the future would be. She would marry and come here and we should be apart for the first time in our lives.

The days were full of interest. Dermot and Dorabella were together a great deal and he liked to take her riding, or they would go off in the car. He seemed very proud of her and he wanted to introduce her to some of the tenants and people in the neighborhood. She was enjoying it all immensely. My mother was very interested in the running of the house and my father in the estate, and consequently he had formed a friendship with Gordon, which was natural as they shared an enthusiasm.

That left myself who was interested in them all as people but shared no special enthusiasms with any of them.

My mother, of course, always drew me into whatever she was doing, and when Matilda Lewyth said she was eager to show her the house, she insisted that I would be interested to accompany them on a tour of it.

My father had gone off with Gordon to see some new contraption which was being put into one of the barns on the home farm, and Dorabella was with Dermot—so there were just the three of us.

Matilda was very knowledgeable about the house and she showed a great love for it. My mother said afterwards that she seemed to care about it more than James Tregarland did, or Dermot, for that matter, who would one day own it.

“I find these old places quite fascinating,” said Matilda. “It is amazing how they have stood up to attacks in the wars, and then there are the hazards of the weather. Mind you, they have taken their toll. After the gales there is usually something wrong…roofs of the farm buildings and so on…fences blown down…and all that.”

“How far off is the home farm?” asked my mother.

“About half a mile. It’s close to Jermyn Priory…that’s the Jermyns’ place.”

“The enemy,” I said.

She laughed. “Oh, you’ve heard then.”

My mother wanted to know what we were talking about.

“There’s a feud between the two families,” Matilda explained. “It’s been going on for years. We’re not sure what it’s about. The details are lost in the past, but somehow it remains.”

“And they live nearby?”

“The estates border on each other.”

“That’s very close.”

“Not really. Jermyns is vast…bigger than this, and we are by no means small. We rarely see them.”

“And if you do,” I said, “I suppose you behave as though you don’t.”

“We might give a nod of recognition, but no more. I never heard what it was all about. It goes back far into the past.”

“You’d think it would be forgotten.”

“We Cornish keep these things going. We stick to the old ways and traditions. You English are inclined to let such things slide away. We don’t.”

“You mean you bear grudges?” I asked.

My mother looked at me sharply. I was noted for speaking my mind.

“Well,” said Matilda, “I suppose that sort of thing becomes a habit.”

“I wonder what it was all about,” said my mother.

Matilda lifted her shoulders and the matter was dropped as we examined the house.

“The main building is Elizabethan,” said Matilda. “But the west wing was added after the Restoration and the east after that…so it is a bit of a hotchpotch of periods.”

“Which makes it more interesting,” I said, and my mother agreed.

We first went to the great hall, which was one of the oldest parts of the house. It must have looked much the same when it was built. On its stone walls hung weapons from the past, perhaps to warn any intruders that this was a warlike family accustomed to defending itself. There was a long table.

“Cromwellian,” said Matilda, “and the chairs date from the reign of Charles II. The family were fiercely Royalist so that they had a bad time during the Protectorate, but all was well with the return of the King.”

Leading from the hall was the chapel. It was small with an altar, pulpit, and a row of pews. There was an atmosphere of chill in the place. I looked up at the waggon roof with its stone corbels, and then at the carved angels who appeared to be supporting the pulpit. I could imagine the family’s gathering here in times of tribulation—and rejoicing, too. A great deal would have happened in this chapel.

“It is not used a great deal now,” said Matilda. “James—Dermot’s father—says that when he was young there were prayers every morning and all the servants had to attend. He laughs and says he always declared that when he came into possession people should be left to look after their own souls without any help from the Tregarlands. James can be a little irreverent at times.” She was smiling indulgently.

We mounted the main staircase and were in the long gallery. Here were pictures of Tregarlands, which must have been painted over the last three hundred years. I recognized James Tregarland. I could detect that mischievous look in his eyes which I had noticed at our first meeting.

Matilda stood looking at him rather sadly.

“He has always lived very well,” she said. “He was one to enjoy life. He married late in life. She was quite young…his wife, I mean. She was delicate, though. She died when Dermot was very young.”

“And he didn’t marry again.”

She gazed at the picture. I could not understand the expression in her eyes.

She shook her head firmly. “It would have been the best thing,” she said. “The right thing…”

“Well,” said my mother. “It has all worked out very well. You look after them beautifully.”

“I do my best. If we take this staircase we come to the upper rooms.”

There were several bedrooms—one in which Charles I slept during the Civil War.

It was an interesting morning.

Our visit, which was to be of a week’s duration, was nearly over. During the day a strong wind blew up and by the evening it had become a gale.

We had heard them speak of the ferocity of the gales and during the morning my mother and I had gone into Poldown.

It was a charming place with the small river cutting the little town in half, so there were East and West Poldown.

In the harbor the fishing boats were tethered; they were bobbing up and down because of the rising wind. The Saucy Jane, The Mary Ann, The Beatrice, and Wonder Girl.

“Why,” I asked my mother, “are boats feminine?”

“Not all,” she answered. “Look. There’s The Jolly Roger.”

Seated on the stones the fishermen were mending their nets; overhead the gulls screeched, swooped, and rose again; the wind caught at our skirts and pulled at our hair.

Although we had been here such a short time, some of the inhabitants of Poldown seemed to know us. I had heard us referred to as “They folk up to Tregarland’s.” We walked through what was a sort of high street with shops on either side in which were displayed souvenirs…shells, ashtrays with “Poldown” printed on them, crockery, glassware, and little figures of strange creatures which I understood were piskies. There were buckets, spades, nets, and swimming gear. A smell of baking bread and cooking pervaded the air. We saw Cornish pasties and cakes for sale. It was a busy little place.

We bought a few things for the sheer pleasure of hearing the people speak.

“How be enjoying Poldown?” we were asked.

We told them very much.

“Ah, it be grand up there in the big house, certain sure. There be a real gale working up. I wouldn’t want to be out on the sea as it’ll be tonight…not for a farm, I wouldn’t. Old Nick himself ’ull be out there, looking for them as ’ull keep his fires going.”

We listened and thought it was all very quaint. Then we walked back to the house. It was hard going uphill against the wind which was blowing in from the south-west, and we were quite breathless when we reached the house.

Matilda said: “I’m glad you’re back. It’s no day to be out. I was afraid you might be blown off the cliff.”

That night we heard the full force of the gale. I looked down from my window on a sea which had become a seething torrent. The waves rose high and flung themselves against the house with such fury that I felt it might be battered to pieces. I could not believe that this raging fury was the same sea which a few days before had been so calm and pellucid…reflecting an azure blue sky. It was possessed of a maniacal anger and seemed intent on destruction.

I could not sleep. I lay listening to it and it was not until the dawn came that it started to abate.

The first thing I noticed when I awoke was that the wind had dropped. I went to the window. There were still frothy white horses riding the waves and I saw debris on the shore—broken pieces of wood and seaweed.

I dressed and went into Dorabella’s room.

“What a night!” she said. “I thought it was going to blow the house away.”

“We’ve now experienced one of the gales which they are always talking about.”

“It’s all right now, though. Dermot is going to take me into Plymouth today…for a special reason.” She looked a little arch.

“Ah,” I said. “The ring. Is that it?”

“How did you guess?”

“You know I always guess your thoughts. I detect that acquisitive look.”

“Our engagement ring! Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Yes,” I said. “Life can be wonderful.”

“What will you do?”

“I’d rather like to go for a ride this afternoon.”

“With whom?”

“I rather fancy my own company.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes. I would like to take dear old Starlight. That’s her name, isn’t it?”

“You mean the chestnut mare?”

“Yes. I like her and I don’t think she is averse to me.”

“I daresay no one will object.”

I did not think they would, either.

We breakfasted at odd times so that we could have it at our convenience to fit in with our plans.

My mother and I went down to the town in the morning. We saw that some of the fishing boats had broken their moorings and had drifted out to sea.

“These October gales can be something cruel,” Miss Polgenny, who ran the wool shop, told us. “We had warnings enough, I will say. Sometimes there be none. That can be terrible, I can tell ’ee. Why, Tommy Yeo was lost out there…him and his brother Billy. ’Twas said that they did meet parson on the way to the boats. Everyone do know that to see a parson before you sail be unlucky.”

My mother and I exchanged a glance. We should take a long time to learn all that must be done to escape the forces of evil.

My mother was buying some wool and Miss Polgenny gave her attention to that.

“ ’Twas three ply then, was it? And what a pretty color. You be going to enjoy work on that.”

She put the wool into a bag. I leaned forward to take it and in doing so dropped my glove. I stooped and picked it up.

“Oh,” said Miss Polgenny, looking at me with horror. “ ’Ee shouldn’t ’a done that. That means a disappointment before the end of the day.”

“What should I have done?” I asked.

“You should ’a left it there, me dear—and let someone else pick it up.”

“What sort of disappointment?” I asked.

“ ’Twill be someone you’ll meet and maybe ’twere better you didn’t. Now, if someone had picked it up for ’ee…that would have meant it would be someone it would be good for ’ee to meet.”

“Can we go back and do it again?”

“Oh, no, me dear. The die be cast. ’Tis done and there be no going back.”

My mother and I were laughing as we came out of the shop.

I said: “They must be constantly on their guard for fear of upsetting those influences which decide their fate.”

“Do you think they really take it seriously?”

“Deadly so.”

We went back to the house and lunched with Matilda alone. Dermot and Dorabella had gone to Plymouth and would be lunching there, and my father had gone off with Gordon to look at some damage which had been done to one of the gates on the home farm.

“What shall you do this afternoon?” asked my mother, and I told her I should either take a walk or a ride.

“Don’t bother about coming with me. I’m quite happy to go alone.”

“Well, we’ll meet later on.”

I decided to ride. I enjoyed ambling along through the narrow winding lane with little danger of getting lost because once one found the sea one knew where one was.

I went to the stables. One of the grooms came out at once.

“You be wanting Starlight, Miss?” he asked.

“Yes, please. I thought I’d take her for a short ride.”

“She’ll like that. Get on well with ’er, do ’ee, Miss? Her’s a good little creature, that ’un.”

“Yes. I like her very much.”

“I’ll get her ready for ’ee if you give me a minute.”

He said a few words on the topic which was on everybody’s lips: the gale.

“It be hoped we don’t have another just yet. They’m got a habit of coming in twos and threes. Started late this year.”

We chatted for a while and then I was ready to leave.

The air was fresh. I could smell the sea. The wind was coming in—not exactly gentle but exhilarating.

I turned away from the sea. I decided to explore a little inland today.

I rode along thoughtfully. I was thinking of Dorabella and could not help wondering how she would settle into life here. She was ecstatically happy just now and would be until the wedding. And then? I wondered.

I liked Dermot, but against the background of his home, it seemed that there was something lightweight about him. In Germany he had been so self-sufficient. The manner in which he had brought us out of the forest had given him a knightly and masterful image in our eyes. I kept seeing him in contrast to Gordon Lewyth, who was so absorbed in the estate that he could only be mildly interested in visitors—except my father, who could talk with him on his own subject.

It was strange how people could change when seen against a different background. I tried to brush off feelings of uneasiness which had come to me since I had arrived in this place.

I had mounted a slight incline and come to a winding path. I had not been this way before.

The rain which had accompanied last night’s gale had made the countryside glisteningly fresh. It was a pleasure to inhale the scents of the trees and shrubs mingling with that of the damp earth.

It was quiet apart from the soughing of the light wind in the trees making a soft moaning sound.

I pulled up and looked round.

I was thinking: Two more days and we shall be going home.

When I was away from all this I should see it more clearly. I would talk to my parents and I would discover what they felt about the situation. One thing was certain: They could not share my feelings, for they would have shown them if they had; and they seemed quite contented.

There was a fork at the end of the road. I pulled up, wondering whether to take the right or left turn.

I decided on the right.

I rode on, still thinking of Dorabella. She really knew so little of them. His family showed no objections, but I was uneasy. What was it? My overactive imagination? My sense of melodrama? Was it because I was going to lose my sister…well, not exactly lose her, but our lives would no longer be close as they had been until now? The parting would be exciting to her. But what of me?

It was selfish in a way. Was that why I was trying to convince myself that it might not be right for her?

I had come to an open space bordered by trees. There was nothing growing there. Commonland, I supposed.

Starlight threw back her head. She was tired of ambling. She wanted movement. Almost before I could indicate that I agreed with her, she had broken into a canter and we started across the field. I was not sure how it happened. One never is on such occasions. Time itself seemed to slow down. I did see the tree…but not until it was too late. It seemed to sway before my eyes and then it was lying right across my path.

Starlight pulled up sharply and I felt myself thrown sideways. Fortunately she immediately stood perfectly still. I slipped rather inelegantly out of the saddle and fell to the ground. I could sense the tension in the mare, but she was well trained. If she had galloped off at that time I should have been badly injured, for my foot was caught in the stirrup. Hastily I dislodged it and just at that moment I heard the sound of hoofbeats.

As I scrambled to my feet I saw a rider coming toward me. He pulled up sharply, slipped out of the saddle, and gazed at me in horrified surprise.

Then he cried: “Are you all right?”

“I think so.”

“Any pain anywhere?”

“I don’t think so. I just slid down.”

He looked at me anxiously for a moment. “Seems all right. Nothing broken…”

“Oh, no. It wasn’t violent enough for that. My horse was standing still when I fell.”

He laid a hand on Starlight and said: “She did well. Didn’t you see the tree?”

“It fell just as we came up.”

“That gale,” he said, and added: “Look, she’s cast a shoe.”

“Oh, dear. What, er…?”

“You can’t go far like that.”

I looked at him blankly.

“The smithy is close by,” he said. “He’d shoe her for you. It’s the only thing to do.”

I looked perplexed, and he went on: “You’re new here?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. Staying nearby, are you?”

“Yes. At Tregarland’s.”

“Oh.” He looked amused, and regarded me thoughtfully. “There’s only one thing to do. If you are feeling up to it, I’ll take you along to the smithy. It’s fortunate for you that you didn’t take a toss. She must have pulled up with some precision.”

He turned to Starlight.

“You’re a good old lady, you are. Full marks.” The mare seemed to understand. She nuzzled her nose in his hand and he patted her again.

“She’ll be all right,” he went on. “We’ll get her to the smithy. Let’s see if you are all right, too.” He looked at me steadily. “Sure there’s no pain anywhere?”

“No, none. I’m a little shaken, I suppose.”

“That’s natural.”

“You’re very kind.”

“I’m responsible in a way. That tree’s on my land.”

“Your…land…?”

He smiled ruefully. “Actually, you’re trespassing.”

“Oh…I’m sorry. Then you must be…”

“Jowan Jermyn. You look taken aback.”

“I…had heard your land adjoined Tregarland’s. I am so sorry.”

“I apologize on behalf of my tree. Now, are you sure you’re all right? If so, let’s go. The sooner that mare gets a new shoe the better.”

I took stock of him as we walked along. He was as tall as Gordon Lewyth, but he lacked Gordon’s massive frame, and was rather slender. He had regular features, merry blue-gray eyes and an easy-going, pleasant expression. I thought: So this is the enemy? How fortunate that he does not extend his venom to Tregarland guests.

I was still shaken by my fall and this following on immediately made me feel a little light-headed.

As we walked across the field, he said: “Something will have to be done at once about that tree. Others on the estate may be in a similar state. Very dangerous. The gales here are a menace.”

“I imagine so. Something happened on the Tregarland farm. A roof or a fence or something.”

“Not only theirs, I imagine. How are you feeling now?”

“All right, thank you.”

“You’re shaken up a bit, I expect. You need a stiff brandy; there’s an inn close to the blacksmith’s shop…appropriately called Smithy’s. We’ll look in there and get that brandy.”

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you. I should have been completely bewildered if you hadn’t come along.” Then I found myself laughing.

“It is amusing?” he said.

“Yes. This morning, in the town, I dropped my glove and, because I picked it up myself, I was told I should meet a stranger whom it would be better for me not to. It seems like a reversal of the prophecy.”

“Well, if that tree hadn’t fallen, we shouldn’t have met in the field. So you could say it was right in a way.”

“I think we should have passed each other somewhere near and you would have told me that I was trespassing. So you could say in another way that she was right.”

“I am sure I should have been too polite to mention it. Ah, here is the smithy. I told you it wasn’t far.”

He took Starlight from me and led her into the blacksmith’s shop. The blacksmith was a ruddy-faced man with black hair and bright black eyes.

“Jake,” said my companion, “here’s a job for you. The mare’s cast a shoe.”

“That be so,” said Jake. “How did it ’appen, then?”

“In Three Acres. One of the trees came down suddenly in front of the horse and rider.”

“That dratted gale.”

“That dratted gale indeed!”

“ ’Twon’t be the only one, mark my words.”

“I mark them well, Jake, and endorse them. But how soon can you shoe the lady’s mare?”

“Could start on ’un right away, sir.”

The blacksmith was looking at me intently.

“You be from Tregarland’s, b’ain’t ’ee, Miss?”

Jowan Jermyn gave me an amused look. “Jake is the fount of all knowledge,” he said lightly. “The blacksmith’s shop is one of the news centers of the neighborhood.”

“Mr. Jermyn do mean I likes a bit of gossip,” Jake explained to me with a wink.

“That is a slight understatement,” commented Jowan. “But he is the best blacksmith in the Duchy. That’s so, is it not, Jake?”

“If you do say so, sir, I wouldn’t be the one to contradict ’ee.

“Now, if you will get on with the job, I am going to take the young lady into Smithy’s and give her a good strong tonic. She’s had a bit of a shock, you know.”

“I’d guess that, sir.”

I saw his chin wag and I knew it was with amusement. This would be a nice little piece of gossip. The enemy of Tregarland’s looking after Tregarland’s guest.

Now that I was beginning to recover from the shock, I was enjoying this adventure.

It occurred to me that this was the sort of thing that happened to Dorabella. If she had been with me, I believed those friendly glances would have shone in her direction rather than in mine.

The Smithy was warm and inviting. A fire was burning in the big open fireplace around which badges and ornaments had been attached. They glistened in the glow from the fire. There was no one else in the inn parlor.

“Sit down,” said my companion. Then he went to the door and called: “Tom, Tom, where are you?”

Then, as a woman appeared: “Ah, Mrs. Brodie, here you are. Jake’s shoeing this lady’s mare. She cast a shoe and there was a bit of a spill.”

“Oh, my patience me!” She was large and round, had rosy cheeks and little sparkling dark eyes which studied me with great interest. “Not hurt, I hope, Miss…?”

“No, thank you very much.”

“Fortunately,” went on Jowan. “But she needs a brandy. We’ll both have one, please, Mrs. Brodie.”

“I’ll get ’un right away, sir.” She smiled at me. “It’ll do you the world of good.”

I sat back in the armchair and smiled at my companion.

“This is extremely good of you,” I said.

“You have already mentioned that. Let me tell you that I am only too pleased to be of use.”

I went on: “It is good of you…particularly in view of…the feud.”

He laughed. I noticed his strong white teeth as he did so.

“That!” he said. “That’s only between the families, you know.”

“I was just thinking how glad I was that it did not extend to the guests.”

“My dear Miss…I am sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Denver.”

“My dear Miss Denver, even if you possessed the accursed name of Tregarland, I could never desert you in distress.”

Mrs. Brodie appeared with two glasses.

He said: “Perhaps we should have something to eat.”

Mrs. Brodie stood there, smiling from one of us to the other.

“There are those wonderful brandy cakes. Mrs. Brodie is the champion cook in Cornwall. Is that not so, Mrs. Brodie?”

Mrs. Brodie’s answer was the same as the blacksmith’s.

“If you do say so, sir.”

I thought: He knows how to treat these people. And I was sure that, in the feud, he would have them on his side. Gordon Lewyth’s dour manner would not have the same appeal; the old man might have been different at one time, but he would not go around now; and Dermot…I was unsure of Dermot.

“The lady should eat something with her brandy, shouldn’t she, Mrs. Brodie?”

“Certain sure, sir.”

“Then brandy cakes it is.” He smiled at me. “You’ll like them.”

The cakes were brought. They looked delicious. I took a sip of the brandy. It was warming and comforting, and the shaken feeling was fast disappearing. The cosy room, the firelight on the brasses, the excitement of meeting the man who was concerned in the Tregarland feud…it was all amusing and exciting and just what I needed in my present mood.

“I must confess, Miss Denver, that I know who you are,” he was saying. “You are going to marry Dermot Tregarland.”

“You are wrong. That is my sister—my twin sister.”

“Oh, I see. I am not as knowledgeable as I thought. I was wondering where the prospective bridegroom was and why he was not accompanying his fiancée on her ride.”

“My parents are here,” I said, “and naturally I came too. It is just a brief visit.”

“Your twin sister,” he mused.

“The news service was not as good as you thought,” I said.

“I shall complain,” he replied with a grin. “Well, that is interesting. Your parents and you with your sister…inspecting the terrain…and the family.”

“It is not exactly like that.”

“That’s putting it bluntly. Please forgive me. Naturally your parents want to see whom your sister is proposing to marry.”

“I daresay his family would want to inspect us.”

“Very likely. And how was this? Amicable? Did all meet with approval? Forgive me again. You see, I should never have been invited to meet your family because…”

“Because of the feud.”

“That is why I consider myself extremely fortunate to have met you in this most unexpected way.”

“My parents will be full of gratitude to you when they hear what you have done for me.”

“It was a great pleasure. Do have another of these cakes of Mrs. Brodie’s. They really are good, aren’t they?”

I agreed that they were.

“And are you really feeling better now?”

I assured him I was.

“I am so glad of that.” He looked as though he meant it sincerely. I thought: There is something very pleasant about him. What a pity he is not on speaking terms with the Tregarlands. I should have liked to bring my parents to thank him. I suppose that would not be possible in the circumstances.

“This feud,” I said. “How long has it been going on?”

“About a hundred years.”

“Surely now…?”

He lifted his shoulders.

“It passed on through generations. We’re rather like that in these parts. We don’t let go of the past easily.”

“If it were something good, something worth remembering, I could understand it. But in a case like this…”

“Well, we have never had anything to do with each other, so we don’t miss anything. It is just there.”

“How did it start? Nobody seems to be sure at Tregarland’s.”

“Nobody? I daresay old Mr. Tregarland remembers. Whom did you ask?”

“I haven’t really asked anyone. I thought it might not be ethical to do so. Mrs. Lewyth did not seem to know.”

“Well, she isn’t one of the family, is she? Or is she?”

“She is a great friend of them all.”

“And looks after the place. And the son…well, he is Tregarlands…as far as the estate is concerned.”

“He seems to be very involved in that.”

“Far more so than the son of the house.”

“So Mr. Lewyth really runs it.”

“That’s common knowledge. The son does not seem to have much feeling for the place. He gets away when he can.”

“We met him in Germany,” I said.

“He’s always been away a good deal. You can’t run an estate like that by not being there. So, you haven’t had a very long acquaintance with him?”

“No. There was just this meeting. We were visiting friends and he was on holiday. He and my sister…”

“Fell in love at first sight.”

I was amazed at myself for talking to him so frankly; I supposed it was because I was really in a very grateful mood after what had happened, and there was something about him which inspired confidences. I forgot that I had met him only a short time before.

I said: “Tell me about the feud.”

“Oh…now, let me see. It was a love affair, you know. It is amazing how many of life’s problems start that way. One of my ancestors…now what was her name? I have heard it. Arabella? No, Araminta. That was it. She was very beautiful, as behoves the heroine of such a story; and as a matter of fact, there is a portrait of her in the house—and she was. The story goes that a match had been arranged for her with a gentleman whom the family considered to be highly eligible. Araminta did not agree. He was thirty years older than she was and he was very rich. I imagine it was this last which put him into such high favor with the family, for apparently finances were low at the time. The estate was not as it should be, and the gentleman’s money was needed to prop it up. This he was prepared to do in return for the hand of seventeen-year-old Araminta.”