Gossamer Cord

The Cornish Adventure

WE PARTED FROM DERMOT in London. He went to Paddington to get his train to Cornwall, and Dorabella, Edward, Gretchen, and I caught the first train to Hampshire.

From London I telephoned home to ask them to meet us and to take the opportunity to explain that Gretchen would be with us.

I spoke to my father. I was glad he answered, for he always accepted what we did as a matter of course. My mother might have been inclined to want explanations.

“We’re home, Daddy,” I said.

“Wonderful.” I could never hear his voice after an absence without emotion. “What time is your train, darling?”

I told him.

“Daddy,” I went on, “we’ve got someone with us. It’s Kurt’s sister. We want her to stay for a while. Tell you all about it when we meet.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll tell your mother. Can’t wait to see you. It seems a long time.”

I was smiling when I put down the telephone. I was thinking of all we had to tell them.

Gretchen said rather apprehensively: “Did you tell them I was with you?”

“I did.”

“And…er…do they mind? What did your mother say?”

“It was my father. He just said, ‘That’s fine.’ They’re used to our bringing people home from school, aren’t they, Dorabella?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Without notice, too. They never minded.”

She was looking a little bereft because she had had to part with Dermot, although they had made arrangements to see each other very soon. He was going to be asked to visit us. I knew it would not be long before the invitation would be issued. My parents would be very eager to see him.

They were both at the station to greet us. Dorabella and I flung ourselves at them, and we all hugged each other as though we had been apart for months. There were tears in my mother’s eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” she said. “And you are looking well.” She glanced at Dorabella. Her perceptive eyes had recognized that something had happened.

I said: “There are lots and lots of things to tell you.”

“Well,” said my father, “let’s get the luggage in and then we’ll hear all about it.”

“And this is Gretchen…Kurt’s sister.”

“Hello, Gretchen,” said my mother. “How nice of you to visit us.”

She kissed Edward and he gave her that special look which meant he needed her help. She was excited. She loved to be involved in family affairs and, of course, Edward was one of the family in her eyes.

It was always wonderful to come home. It had been like this coming home from school. There was always so much we had to tell them.

It was comforting to see Caddington again. Everything seemed so right there. There was nothing ugly lurking in the dark corners of our home.

Dorabella was soon telling them about the most marvelous man we had ever met. “He must be asked here, Mummy. You’ll love him.”

My mother was all eagerness to hear. Dorabella prattled on.

“He lives in Cornwall. He is Cornish, actually. Dermot Tregarland. Isn’t it a lovely name? He’s very amusing, isn’t he, Violetta? We liked him very much.”

“What was he doing in Germany?” asked my mother.

“Walking.”

“You met him at the schloss.”

“Well, not exactly. He was staying in the town.”

“I look forward to learning all about him. And he is coming here, you say?”

“You’ll love him,” repeated Dorabella.

“When is he coming?”

“I thought we’d work that out with you.”

“I’m glad of that,” said my mother with light-hearted irony. Then she turned to Gretchen and said how glad she was that her family had let her come to stay with us.

Gretchen replied that it was indeed good of her to allow her to do so.

My mother did not say that she had been given no choice in the matter, but I saw the amused smile on her lips.

She had once mentioned the fact to my father that we rarely consulted her about the people we brought home and it was the custom for her to be presented with them at a moment’s notice. To this he had replied in his indulgent way: “Well, darling, it is their home, you know.”

When we arrived at the house, Gretchen expressed the usual admiration of its antiquity. Robert came dashing out. He was back from Devon and would, to his chagrin, soon be going back to school. He was introduced to Gretchen.

“Kurt’s sister,” he said. “Where’s Kurt? Why didn’t you bring him back?”

“How was Devon?” I asked.

“Brilliant,” he said. “But I’d rather have been in Germany. It must have been fun.”

And so we had arrived home.

No sooner was I in my room than my parents came to see me. I had expected them. They would want to know more about this young man whom Dorabella seemed to be so involved with.

I gave them a brief account of what had happened, how we had met Dermot, how he had rescued us when we might have been lost in the forest, and I went on to the attack on the schloss and the reason why we had brought Gretchen with us.

They were astounded and deeply shocked.

“Poor Edward,” said my mother. “He seems to be fond of the girl.”

“It is all rather sudden,” said my father.

“Well, these things happen,” put in my mother. “Of course, Edward has visited them before and she is Kurt’s sister. Sooner or later he would be thinking of marriage. But what of Dorabella’s affair? She is very young.”

“We are the same age,” I reminded her.

“Yes…but she always seems younger. And…she is very impressionable.”

“It may probably blow over,” suggested my father.

“Violetta, how does it seem to you?” asked my mother. “You’ve seen her go through these stages before.”

“I think this is rather more than usual.”

“Really! And what do you think of the young man?”

“He’s very pleasant…very charming. He was extremely good at getting us out of the forest.”

They wanted a more detailed account of that adventure.

“It seems a very dangerous place,” said my mother, frowning.

“It seemed idyllic until all that happened. Then it became horrible. But it is what is happening all over Germany.”

I could see their minds were on Dorabella.

“We’ll ask the young man here as soon as possible,” said my mother. “Then we’ll see what we think of him.”

“Perhaps Dorabella has already made up her mind that she is going to marry him,” suggested my father.

“She has been known to change her mind…”

At that moment Dorabella herself came bursting in.

“I knew I’d find you here. Learning all about it, of course, from sensible Violetta. Well, what has she been telling you?”

“About the adventurous time you had in Germany,” said my father.

“Oh, it was wonderful…until all that put an end to it. Dermot was marvelous, wasn’t he, Violetta? The way he got us out of that place…and then he rescued us in the forest, you know.”

“He was the perfect knight,” I said.

“Actually, he is really rather marvelous. Wait until you two see him.”

“I suggest we do not wait too long before we do,” said my mother. “We’ll invite him very soon.”

Dorabella hugged her.

“You will love him. You really will. I have never met anyone quite like him. He’s the nearest thing to Daddy you can have.”

My father was greatly touched, but I could see my mother was wondering whether this was just another of Dorabella’s transient enthusiasms.

Edward took Gretchen to see my grandparents. Their house was as much home to him as ours was, for my mother had only been about sixteen when she took him home and her mother had really brought him up.

A few weeks after our return Dermot Tregarland visited us. People sometimes seem different against another background and I wondered whether Dermot would. But no, he was the same exuberant, charming person at Caddington as he had been in the Böhmerwald.

He was interested in the house, which he naturally compared with his own home. There were many similarities, he told us. He wanted us all to pay a visit to Cornwall soon.

By this time it was mid-September and Dermot stayed with us for two weeks and, I think, during that time my parents decided that he would be a suitable match for their daughter.

He met people in the neighborhood—the doctor and his family, the rector and his—and although there was as yet no announcement of an engagement, it was taken for granted that he was Dorabella’s fiancé.

Dorabella was at the height of excitement. She was radiant and her happiness enhanced her beauty.

In contrast to her exuberance, I felt faintly depressed. I was lusterless beside her. I came to the conclusion that I did not want change. I wanted us to be schoolgirls again. Perhaps I was a little resentful that she needed me less. Someone else had moved closer to her. Dorabella was in love. I was dearly loved by my family, but it was not the same.

Perhaps I felt envious. Always before, when people noticed her and made much of her, I accepted the fact that I lacked her charm, and I had been pleased that she was so popular. I might be becoming a little tired of being the sensible one…the one who was expected to take responsibility…the one who must be there when needed to help Dorabella.

It had been my role to look after her, and although sometimes I may have complained, I did not want that changed.

I often thought back to that moment when Else’s young man had suddenly stood up and begun the riot. I thought that after that nothing would ever be the same again.

That was nonsense. This would have come in any case. It had had nothing to do with the riot. Dorabella would have met Dermot—and even if she had not met him, it would have been someone else one day.

But now, because of what had happened, I was aware of evil as I had never been previously. I could not accept life as I had done previously.

It was arranged that we should pay a visit to Dermot’s house. My mother decided that we would not wait until Christmas, much to my brother’s disgust. He declared that beastly school was going to spoil things for him yet again.

It was October when we left for Cornwall—my parents, Dorabella, and I. We spent a night in London in what had been my grandparents’ home in Westminster and which was now the home of my uncle Charles. My grandparents were at Marchlands most of the time but came up to London on this occasion to see us. Edward and Gretchen were staying at Marchlands. I wondered whether Gretchen compared Epping Forest with the Böhmerwald.

“What a nice girl Gretchen is,” said my grandmother. “Don’t you think so, Lucinda?”

My mother said she did. My uncle Charles and his wife, Sylvia, were very interested in the political situation and as a Member of Parliament, my uncle knew a great deal more about world affairs than we did. He muttered something about not liking the noises that fellow Hitler was making.

We were all too excited at the prospect of the Cornish visit to pay much attention to that, and the next day we left for Paddington and the West Country.

It was a long journey across the country through Wiltshire, with its prehistoric sites, to red-soiled Devon where the train ran along the coast; and then across the Tamar and we were in Cornwall. Very soon after that we arrived at our destination.

Dermot was waiting for us on the platform.

He and Dorabella greeted each other with rapture; then he welcomed the rest of us. His car was in the station yard.

He summoned a porter who touched his cap, and he was told to bring the luggage to the car.

“Yes, Mr. Tregarland, sir,” he said in a Cornish accent. “You be leaving that to me, sir.”

The luggage was put into the boot of the car and we drove away.

“It is so good to have you here,” said Dermot.

My father was seated beside him in the front, my mother with Dorabella and me at the back.

“It’s good to be here,” said my father. He sniffed appreciatively. “Wonderful air,” he said.

“Best in the world, we do say, sir,” said Dermot in a fair imitation of the porter’s accent. “You know how people are. Theirs is always best. They delude themselves into believing it.”

“It is not a bad idea,” said my mother. “It makes for contentment.”

“I can’t wait to see the house,” said Dorabella.

“That is something you will have to do, my dear,” said my mother. “But not for long. How long, Dermot?”

“It will be for some twenty minutes,” he told her.

“Everything seems to grow so well here,” said my father.

“We get lots of rain and very little frost to kill things off. We’re a cosy little corner of the island, in fact. Though our gales can be terrific…very wild. There is something about the place which reminds me of the Böhmerwald, though it is very different. They have their trolls…and Thor, Odin, and the rest, but I can tell you we have our little gang of supernatural beings who have to be placated at times. Piskies…knackers…and specially those who have ‘the powers,’ as we call them. They can do the most frightful things to you merely by looking at you.”

“You are making us tremble,” said my mother lightly.

“Don’t worry. Ignore them and they will do the same to you. It is only those who go looking for them who get the unpleasant surprises.”

“It sounds fascinating,” said Dorabella.

Dermot took his eyes from the road to smile at her.

We went through a village with stark gray stone cottages and a plain rather dour-looking building which I took to be a church.

The trees almost met across the road, making a roof for us to pass under; there was lush foliage growing everywhere; and the luxuriant beauty of the country made up for a lack of architectural elegance.

Then I saw the sea and black rocks about which the waves broke rhythmically, sending up white spray into the air.

“Not far now,” said Dermot. “Down there…” He indicated with his head “…is the little town. A fishing village, really—not much more; the river divides it into two, West and East Poldown, joined by an ancient bridge which was built five centuries ago. There are a church and a square…and the quay, of course, and there you’ll see the fishermen mending their nets or bringing in the catch while their boats are bobbing up and down in the water. We don’t have to go down into the town now. Actually, it’s only about half a mile from the house. We can see it from the windows.”

We were going uphill and came to a high road. And there, ahead of us, was the house itself.

It looked impressive, perched as it was on the edge of the cliff. It was not unlike Caddington and must have been built around the same time. I thought, Dorabella will be going from one ancient house to another.

“It’s wonderful,” said Dorabella. “Dermot, you didn’t tell me how beautiful it was.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied. “When I saw your home I thought it was very fine indeed, and I wondered what you would think of this.”

We were all murmuring our appreciation. I did not say that I thought it had about it an air of menace. I dismissed the thought. It was due to that jaundiced view I was beginning to take of everything since what I had seen at the schloss. Also, it was taking me yet another step away from Dorabella.

There was a drive up to the gate house; we passed under this and were in a courtyard.

“Here we are,” said Dermot. “Come along in. Someone will take care of the bags. Oh, there you are, Jack.”

A man came forward. He touched his cap to us.

“Take the luggage, Jack. Tess will show you where it goes.”

“Aye, sir,” said the man.

We went into a stone-floored hall with a high-vaulted ceiling. As we did so, our footsteps rang out on the floor and I noticed the customary array of weapons on the walls very similar to ours at Caddington, to signify that the family had done its duty to the defense of its country, I had always supposed. There was a similarity about hundreds of such houses all over England.

A woman was coming down the staircase at the end of the hall. She was dressed in a pale blue cotton gown with white collar and cuffs. I knew who this was before Dermot introduced us, because he had already described the household to us.

She would be Matilda Lewyth, who had looked after the house since Dermot’s mother had died and he was about five years old. She was, in fact, the housekeeper, but not known as such because she was a distant connection of the family. I gathered that she had fallen on hard times when, as a widow, she had come here with her son, Gordon, to manage the household for Dermot’s father. She had stayed and looked after it to everyone’s satisfaction and had been doing so over the last twenty years. We all knew who Matilda Lewyth was.

She welcomed us now as our hostess.

“We are so pleased that you have come,” she said. “Dermot has told us all about you. And this is Miss Denver…”

“Dorabella,” said Dorabella. “And I know you are Mrs. Lewyth.”

“And Sir Robert and Lady Denver,” she said, turning to my parents. “And…”

“Violetta,” I introduced myself.

“Violetta…Dorabella…what pretty names!”

We explained about the operas and there was gentle laughter.

“What a romantic idea! We are so glad you came all this way to see us,” said Mrs. Lewyth. “You will meet Dermot’s father at dinner. He suffers…from gout…and is very often confined to his room. But he is very eager to meet you. We have to be careful with him. He is more than a little infirm. Then there is my son, Gordon. He has grown up here and is deeply concerned in estate business. He runs the place…practically.” She sent a deprecating smile in Dermot’s direction. “He and Dermot between them,” she added quickly.

She turned to Dorabella. “But I suppose Dermot has told you a great deal about the family.”

“Oh, yes,” said Dorabella. “He has talked about you all.”

“And now, you must be tired. It’s a long journey. Would you like to rest before dinner?”

“Oh, no,” cried Dorabella. “I’m far too excited for that.”

Mrs. Lewyth smiled indulgently and looked at my parents.

“We are not really tired,” said my mother. “We’re just longing to meet everybody.”

“Well then, I’ll have you shown to your rooms and then you can wash…unpack, perhaps, and then come down and have a chat and a drink before dinner.” She looked at her watch. “I’ll have dinner put forward a little, but I’ll make sure there’s time for a chat beforehand.”

We were taken to our rooms. The house was so large that there was plenty of accommodation and Dorabella and I had a room side by side.

I stood in the center of mine and surveyed it. My suitcase was already there. It was a large room with a high ceiling; the windows were leaded and the curtains of heavy dark blue velvet. It was not overfurnished; there was a four-poster bed, a heavy ornate wardrobe, a chest on which stood two highly polished candlesticks, a dressing table with a swing-back mirror, two easy chairs and two smaller ones, and a table with a wash-hand basin and ewer. There was not a great deal of light from the leaded windows and it seemed full of shadows; and because one could not but be aware of its antiquity, one could not help wondering how many people had slept here…and what tragedies…and perhaps comedies…had occurred within the seclusion of these walls. I was in a foolish and fanciful mood, and I could trace it all back to that horrific experience in the schloss. I told myself I must get that out of my mind.

I unpacked my case, washed, put on a dark red dress, and sat before the swing-back mirror to comb my hair. The mirror was about two hundred years old, I guessed, and the glass was slightly mottled. It seemed to distort my face so that the features which looked back at me did not appear entirely to be my own.

What was the matter with me? I was looking for evil everywhere, I admonished myself. I must forget that scene. But I could not get out of my mind the memory of Else’s lover in that moment when he had risen from his seat and set the riot in motion. There had been what I could only call the look of a predatory animal on his face…mindlessness, unreasoning hatred…in love with cruelty…cold and pitiless.

Matilda Lewyth seemed to be a kindly woman; the house was wonderful…ancient, yes, but so was Caddington, my own home. I did not feel that overpowering aura of the past there; yet it had its histories, its legendary specters as such houses will have, but it was dominated by my loving parents who had completely suppressed such echoes from the past.

I could not shake off this ridiculous feeling even though I reminded myself continually that it was all due to that unfortunate incident at the schloss.

There was a tap on my door and, without waiting for me to answer, Dorabella came in.

She had put on a blue dress and looked very beautiful.

“Oh, Vee,” she cried, using the shortened version of my name. “Isn’t it exciting!”

I could only agree that it was.

A maid came to take us down. She was Myrtle, she told us. She was black-eyed, black-haired with a rather Spanish look. She told us her sister, Tess, worked at the house, too. She spoke with a pronounced Cornish accent, which had a certain melody to it, but was not always easy to understand.

If we wanted anything, either she or Tess would bring it.

“All you do have to do is say, Miss,” we were told.

We thanked her. I noticed her lively eyes examining Dorabella intently while I received only a cursory glance.

We were taken down some stairs along a corridor and down another set of stairs.

“This be the punch room,” said Myrtle. “This be where Mrs. Lewyth ’ull be waiting for ’ee.”

She opened a door and we went in.

Matilda Lewyth rose and came toward us. I noticed a man sitting in an armchair and guessed him to be Dermot’s father. He seemed rather old. Dermot must have been born late in his life as was sometimes the case. One of his legs was bandaged.

Dermot came forward smiling.

“Do come in,” said Mrs. Lewyth. “James…” She turned to the man in the chair. “These are the young ladies.”

We approached the chair. I thought he must be in his sixties. He had rather penetrating eyes, very lively, very shrewd, and I had a feeling that he was regarding us somewhat mischievously, for his chin moved a little, as though he were finding it difficult to suppress secret laughter.

Dermot had come to stand between us. He put an arm through mine as he did with Dorabella.

“Father,” he said. “This is Violetta and this is Dorabella.”

The old man’s eyes were on Dorabella…assessing her…rather boldly, I thought…appreciatively?

“My dears,” he said in a very musical voice, “you must forgive my not rising. This accursed gout. It is devilishly incapacitating at times.”

“It is so kind of you to invite us here,” said Dorabella. “We are really very excited to be here.”

His eyes were turned on me.

“Twin sisters,” he said. “That is interesting. You must tell me about yourselves…sometime…”

Matilda Lewyth came forward.

“Please sit down and tell me what you would like to drink. Dorabella, you sit there near Mr. Tregarland. Violetta…you here.”

My parents arrived then.

“I am glad you sent that nice maid to bring us down,” said my mother. “We should have been lost otherwise.”

I watched the introductions and Mr. Tregarland’s interest in my parents.

When we were all seated we were given our drinks, and the conversation was of that conventional nature which is often employed when people meet for the first time. The differences between Hampshire and Cornwall were discussed, the journey, the state of the government, and all the time I was wondering what old Mr. Tregarland and Mrs. Lewyth were really thinking about us; and whether they were as eager to welcome Dorabella into the family as they seemed to imply.

Then Gordon Lewyth arrived.

I knew who he was, of course, because Dermot had explained the family to us and had referred more than once to Gordon Lewyth; but I was unprepared for such a man.

He was dark-haired and tall—being well over six feet—which gave him a commanding appearance. He was also broad-shouldered, which accentuated that certain effect of power.

Matilda Lewyth rose and cried: “Gordon…my dear.” She went to him and he kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Our visitors,” she added.

He shook hands with my father and then my mother.

“These are the twins—Violetta and Dorabella,” said Matilda Lewyth.

His handshake was firm and strong.

“We are pleased to see you,” he said. I wondered if it was a little like the royal “we.” Was he a little arrogant? I wondered. I thought he might be. There was a nonchalance about him, which might have been deliberate, as though he were telling us that although he said he was pleased, that was merely for the sake of convention and he was quite indifferent to our presence.

“Dinner is about to be served,” said Matilda, and I had an idea that we had been waiting for his arrival.

“Then let us go straight in,” he said.

I noticed that his attention was on Dorabella. She seemed a little flustered, but pleased, and aware of his attention. I imagined he was not assessing her charms so much as wondering what such an acquisition to the family would mean.

We went into the dining room. Dorabella was seated between Dermot and his father. Next to me was Gordon Lewyth and on the other side of him my mother.

I noticed his strong hands. He emanated strength, and I wondered what his position was here. It was true that Matilda Lewyth was treated like a member of the family, but I guessed they might be poor relations. Perhaps a deep consciousness of this fact might account for his determination to assert his importance. It was almost imperceptible, it was true, but it was there.

And what was his real position in the household? The son of the housekeeper! Yet he seemed to be managing the estate…with Dermot. If one had not known that, one would think that he was the master of the house.

He talked to my mother and then, dutifully, turned to me. He asked about Caddington and the estate there.

I said: “I suppose there is a similarity about all estates.”

He replied that this was possibly so. But in different parts of the country there must be different ways of going about things. There were hazards…and blessings…of certain climates, for instance, and it was amazing how they could vary throughout the country.

“We have a rainfall which in some ways can be very provoking and in others a blessing. Then there are the strong winds at times along the coast.”

“The estate is very large, I suppose.”

“Not compared with some. Perhaps in this part of the world it would be called large. It extends inland. Being near the sea has its handicaps.”

“Are you very isolated?”

“Not really. Poldown, the little fishing village—a town in miniature—is not very far away.”

“You can see it from the windows, I believe.”

“That’s true.”

“I’m looking forward to visiting it.”

“I doubt you will find much of interest there. I suppose you visit London frequently?”

“Well…occasionally. My uncle has a house in Westminster. When we go to Town we stay there usually. But we are in the country, mainly. My sister and I have only recently left school, so we have been away from home for a lot of the last few years.”

“I see. Well, you asked if we are isolated and the answer is no. The estate fans out, you understand. Perhaps when it gets inland it might be a little isolated. You could ride some way without meeting anyone. There is an estate which adjoins ours, Jermyn’s.”

“I see.”

“We’re not good friends with them. The families never liked each other. It’s some quarrel which goes back for generations. I am not quite sure what it was all about. It was long before my time. However, the Tregarlands and the Jermyns don’t mix.”

“A sort of Capulet and Montague affair?”

“It might be that.”

“That sort of thing is usually the result of something which doesn’t really matter at all. Then the daughter of one house marries the son of the other and all is happy ever after.”

“I have a vague idea that in this case it may have started something like that. So there would have to be a different sequel.”

I laughed.

“So we shall not meet the Jermyns,” I said.

“I can assure you that they will not be invited here.” He looked at me intently. “So you and your sister are twins,” he said.

“Yes.”

“There is a slight resemblance.”

“I think it is quite a strong one, and you say slight.”

He said: “Yes, I repeat, slight.”

I immediately thought: He means I am not as attractive as Dorabella and that he probably finds me rather dull.

I became intent on my food and he turned to my mother.

There was little conversation which I recalled after that, and when the meal was over we went back to the punch room where coffee was served; and after an hour or so Matilda Lewyth whispered to my mother that we must be tired after our journey and she was sure we should like to retire early.

My mother said that was a good idea, so the party broke up and we went to our rooms.

There was a fire in mine, yet the eeriness I had sensed on my arrival had increased. I went to the curtains and drew them back. There was enough moon to show a path of light across the water. I could hear the faint murmuring of the sea as it broke against the rocks below.

I turned back to the room. I would leave the curtains open. If I did not, I should feel shut in.

I waited for the door to open, for I guessed Dorabella would come in. I was right.

She looked beautiful in her blue silk nightdress and negligee, with her hair hanging about her shoulders.

She stood leaning against the door, smiling.

“You don’t have to look surprised,” she said. “You knew I’d come. What do you think of all this?”

“Interesting.”

“It’s more than that. It’s fascinating…meeting them all.”

“It must be for you, if you are going to be part of it…mistress of this place. Just think of it.”

“It’s a bit like Caddington, isn’t it? Except for the sea…we don’t have that.”

“Nor the people. What of them?”

“I say…what do you think of him?”

“As there were several members of the male sex, which one do you mean?”

“Gordon Lewyth, of course.”

“I don’t know him well enough to say.”

“You are maddening. You are so precise about everything. I mean what was your impression?”

“I think he wants everyone to know he is not merely the son of the housekeeper.”

“Well, Matilda Lewyth could hardly be called a housekeeper.”

“I don’t know enough about them yet. It’s all rather unusual.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly clear. She came here when Dermot’s mother died. It was a sort of favor. They were members of the family…poor relations, I imagine. I think she is very nice, don’t you? As for him…Gordon, I mean…well, I think he’s interesting. And…” She giggled. “I think he’s rather pleased…about me.”

“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.”

“Poor girl!” I said.

“Poor girl, indeed. But a common enough story. Certainly nowadays there is more freedom of choice. But in those days the will of Papa was the law. However, the son of Tregarland was young and handsome. His name was Dermot.”

“Oh, the same…”

“These names run in families. Tregarland’s is spattered with Dermots. I am by no means the first Jowan in mine.”

“The way the story is going, I guess that Dermot and Araminta fell in love.”

“You are absolutely right. How could it have been otherwise? At that time there was no feud between the families. I gather that the finances at Tregarland were in no more healthy a state than those of Jermyn; in any case poor Araminta’s future had been decided. She was to marry her wealthy admirer, restore the crumbling family mansion, forgo true love, and learn to live happily ever after with the husband of her father’s choice.”

“Which she did not. It is really very sad.”

“Indeed, it is. Dermot Tregarland was not a man to stand aside and let his love be whisked from him. He made plans. He was going to elope. There was treachery somewhere and the news leaked out. It might have been through the servants. They are like detectives in our houses, especially so in those days where there were many more of them. However, it became known to the Jermyns that their daughter was planning to elope with her Tregarland lover who was to creep into the grounds by night when she would slip out to meet him. It was easy to lock her in her room, but they set a trap for him. There was a fearsome contraption which they used to set in the woods to warn off poachers. It was called a man-trap. Well, the outcome was that when Dermot came for his bride he was caught in the trap.”

“Did it kill him?”

“Unfortunately for him, no. It was not meant to kill. His leg was so mangled that he could never use it again.”

“What a terrible story! I am not surprised that the Tregarland family hated yours.”

“It was terrible. But that was not the end. Araminta, broken-hearted, locked in her room, was unable to get out while her lover lay in agony on the trap until in the morning one of the servants found him.”

“Surely they were punished for doing such a cruel thing!”

“They had a good defense. There was a robbery in the neighborhood. They were protecting their property. Man-traps were not unknown. It was reckoned that those who were caught in them had no right to be in that spot.”

“And what happened to the lovers?”

“Dermot Tregarland was an embittered cripple for the rest of his life.”

“And Araminta…did she marry the rich suitor?”

“The preparations for the wedding went on. Everyone thought the marriage would take place. There were to be great festivities…a grand ball…”

“And what about the Tregarlands? Did they retaliate? They had not wanted the match, but…”

“What could the lovers do? Dermot was lying in his bed knowing that he would never walk without crutches again. He was in no state to stage a romantic rescue. Araminta took matters into her own hands. The night before the wedding, she went down to the sea. She walked into it and never came back.”

“What a terrible story! So she killed herself, and her lover was maimed for the rest of his life.”

“Pretty strong stuff, you see. In a way it makes you understand the feud.”

“But all those years ago! Do you feel this hatred? After all, Araminta was one of your family.”

“Well, the Tregarlands were wronged more than we were. We were, after all, the instigators. It was my great-great (I am not sure how many greats) grandfather who set the trap which gave Dermot Tregarland the scars for the rest of his life. They have more reason to hate us than we have to hate them. Araminta died by her own hand because of the cruelty of her own family. Over the years which followed the tragedy, they provoked us wherever possible. Anger flared up between us. Throughout his life that Dermot could not forget that we had not only robbed him of his love but maimed him for ever.”

“It’s a sad story, but I am glad I know. It was about a hundred years ago, you say. It is rather a long time for something to fester like that. None of the people concerned in it are living now.”

“That Dermot would have been about twenty years old when it happened to him, and he lived until he was sixty—nearly forty years of smoldering resentment. It takes a long time to eradicate. The story was handed down. The family would be taught to hate those wicked Jermyns. They would be told not to go near our land. We were the ogres…it was awkward, our being neighbors.”

“I understand it more now. I am glad you told me.”

“Oh. It is something best forgotten.”

“Yes, I agree. After all, those of you who are living now are not to blame and, when you think of the terrible things that have happened in the past, there must be many similar stories.”

He smiled. “Yes. It should be forgotten. This is a rather depressing story, isn’t it? Are you feeling better now?”

“Much.”

“That’s good.”

“I wonder how Jake is getting on.”

“He will do a good job.”

“It must be rather strange, living in a place like this and never speaking to those whose lands are closest to yours.”

“Oh, the feud again! It can have its awkward moments. When people invite guests, if the Jermyns are included the Tregarlands won’t be and vice versa. We are like strangers to each other. But people come down here more and more nowadays. During the holiday season there are many strange faces around. There is no problem, really.”

“I think it is a shame nevertheless.”

“No doubt.”

“You do not bear any rancor?”

“Why should I? We were the ones who inflicted the damage, though the Tregarlands were as much against the match as we were. The Jermyn fortunes were at the time in decline with those of the Tregarlands. They did not want the marriage any more than we did. So both of the young people would have been forbidden to marry their choice. The course of true love never did run smooth, you know.”

He was anxious to introduce a light note into the conversation and the story of the star-crossed lovers had brought a touch of gloom. I could not help thinking of how that poor girl must have felt when she walked into the sea; and there was the young man who was crippled for life. Hers was perhaps the easier fate.

He asked about my home and we talked of Caddington and my parents, of Dorabella and how she and I had left school only that summer.

A great deal had happened since then.

There was something about him which led me into talking more than I normally would have done to a stranger, and soon I was telling him about what had happened in the schloss.

He looked grave and said he had heard of the youth movement which was growing very strong in Germany. He was not sure of their new leader, though he had heard that he had done a lot of good for the country.

“You will not wish to go there again for a while,” he said. “But when your sister marries, I daresay you will be visiting here.”

“I imagine we shall. We have been together all our lives…as twins are.”

“Of course.”

“So I can be confident that we shall meet again.”

“It seems possible. Which reminds me—they will be wondering what has happened to me. Do you think the horse will be ready now?”

“We’ll see. I imagine it is possible.”

We rose. Mrs. Brodie gave me a pleasant smile and I guessed it would not be long before others knew that the guest from Tregarland’s had been in her inn parlor with Jowan Jermyn.

In the smithy’s the smell of burning hoof filled the air and Starlight was standing patiently while Jake put the finishing touches to her shoe.

“There,” he said. “She’ll do a treat…a real treat. That be better, eh, old girl?”

I was wondering about paying.

Jake guessed my thoughts.

“That be all right, Miss. I’ll put it to Tregarland’s. ’Tain’t the first time I’ve done this for Starlight.”

As we rode away, I told Jowan Jermyn again how grateful I was to him.

“I cannot think what I should have done if you had not come along when you did, Mr. Jermyn.”

“I am known quite often as J.J. It’s the name you see, Jowan Jermyn. Alliteration’s artful aid. Not so artful on this occasion. Perhaps a little clumsy.”

“Not in the least.”

“Oh, you are determined to be tactful. At school, they became impatient with the two Js and dropped one of them. Jay. I am not sure that I like it. Jay! What is it! A bird. The dictionary says it is also a foolish person. A person who acts recklessly. One who crosses the road recklessly and is liable to be run over is a jay walker. You see, I am rather hoping that, apart from that artful bird, I am not very aptly named.”

“What’s in a name? What of Violetta?”

“What of it?”

“It happens to be mine.”

“It’s charming.”

“From the opera, of course. And my sister is Dorabella.”

“The twin. Also charming. I can’t speak for Dorabella, but you do not really bear a resemblance to La Traviata.”

We rode through the field.

“Keep clear of the trees,” he went on. “In case another should fall. I’ll have them inspected as soon as possible. There may well be others. I expect to be getting a list of damages on the farms, etc.”

We had passed through the fields and come to one of the winding lanes. When we reached the end of it we came to a wider thoroughfare.

He pulled up. “This marks the boundary between Tregarland and Jermyn land. We don’t trespass. Do you know where you are now?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Go straight along…you’ll soon see the sea. So I will say goodbye, or perhaps au revoir, because, if you come down to see your sister, we shall meet again. In secret, perhaps, because your sister will be a Tregarland. Would you agree to such subterfuge?”

“I think I might.”

He bowed his head and lifted his hat. “Then, Miss Violetta, au revoir.”

I started to thank him again but he cut me short.

“It has been a great pleasure for me,” he said.

“For me, too,” I told him.

He turned his horse with an air of reluctance, and, smiling, I did the same, and rode back to Tregarland’s.

There was consternation when I arrived. Where had I been? My mother was anxious. She had expected me back before this.

I told her briefly what had happened.

“Lost her shoe! Good Heavens, you might have had a bad fall!”

“She’s a wonderful horse. Mr. Jermyn said so.”

“Mr. Jermyn?”

Then it was necessary to tell her everything. Matilda Lewyth arrived and heard what had happened.

“He was very good,” I explained. “In fact he was particularly kind and helpful.”

“Did he know you came from Tregarland’s?”

“Oh, yes. I told him I was staying here. He knew something about Dorabella. He says there is a good news service and the blacksmith’s is one of the headquarters of it. After falling off…but not badly, because Starlight was stationary…it was rather fun and quite amusing.”

“Well, I am glad it turned out like that,” said my mother. “It might have been so different.”

Dorabella returned from Plymouth with a beautiful diamond ring which delighted her. She showed it round with great pleasure and that night, as she was officially engaged, champagne was brought up from the cellars and my afternoon’s adventure slipped into insignificance.

Dorabella did come to my room afterwards. She was extremely happy and kept glancing with delight at her engagement ring. She was only vaguely interested in my adventure.

“This Jermyn man sounds interesting,” she said.

“Oh, he was. I was fortunate that he came along when he did.” I told her about the origin of the feud and that did hold her attention for a little while.

“Walked into the sea!” she said. “It’s rather romantic in a way…”

“Romantic! It’s tragic.”

“But not as bad as what happened to the man. Fancy living for the rest of his life like that. And his name was Dermot.”

“It’s a family name evidently.”

“It is all very exciting, anyway. I am glad you had a little adventure, too.”

“This will be a visit we shall always remember,” I said, thinking of sitting in Smithy’s, drinking brandy.

“For ever,” echoed Dorabella, gazing rapturously at her diamond ring.

A few days later we left Cornwall.

It had been decided, after a good deal of discussion, that the marriage should take place at Christmas.