Road to Paradise Island

RAYMOND

I lost count of time while I was reading Ann Alice's journal, and when I came to the end it was quite light for morning had come.

I had been there with her. I felt I knew her and her lover, her stepmother and the sinister Desmond Featherstone. I was completely frustrated by the abrupt ending and was filled with an intense longing to know what had happened on that night which I knew was the night of her death because of the date on her tombstone.

I could feel her fear... the steps on the stairs. I could see her hastily thrusting her journal into the drawer, not shutting it completely so that the telltale scarf was just visible.

And what had happened? Was the prized key in the door, or had she forgotten to lock it? Oh no, she never would do that. She had been so insistent about that key. Yet after what she had heard she would be in a state of extreme terror.

What had happened?

And how strange it was that I should be the first to read those words which had been written nearly a hundred years ago. It was almost as though they had been written for me. I was the one who had uncovered her grave, who had been the first to step into her room and find the journal.

I was impatient to tell my brother Philip what I had discovered. I even thought of going to wake him up, but I decided against that. I must be patient. He was an early riser and he would be at the breakfast table at half past seven.

I was there before him.

"Philip," I cried, "an extraordinary thing happened last night."

Then I told him and he was as excited as I was. But what interested him particularly was the map.

"Go and get it," he said. So I did.

He studied it intently.

"I know the area," he said. "These islands... well, we're aware of them ... but this Paradise Island ... It sounds rather fanciful."

"Well, we have the Solomon Islands. Why not the Paradise Island?"

'Til show it to Benjamin. He's bound to know something."

Neither of us ate much. We were so excited. I suggested that we tell Granny M what I had found. She would be most put out if she were not informed.

We went to her room where she was having her usual tea and toast with marmalade on the special tray she used for her breakfasts in bed... her one concession to her years.

She listened intently and her first remark was a reproof for me.

I had been told not to enter the room. It might have been dangerous.

"I had an urge, Granny," I said. "It was irresistible."

"In the middle of the night!" added Philip.

"So I took the candle and went up."

"Very brave in view of all the talk of spectres," said my brother. "What would you have done if you had met a headless corpse with clanging chains?"

"When you have read the journal you will not talk so flippantly of the dead," I told him earnestly.

I went up to my room and brought down the journal for them to see. They were astonished.

"And you sat up all night reading that!" said Philip.

"Well, wouldn't you? In any case, once I had started I couldn't stop."

"I should have waited until morning."

"What do you think of the map, Philip?" asked Granny M.

"It's not done by an amateur. I know the area. That's clear enough. But I have never seen this Paradise Island before. I want Benjamin to have a look at it. We'll make some comparisons."

"It will be interesting to hear what he has to say," said Granny M. "Leave the journal with me. I shall read it."

It was a strange morning. I felt wide awake in spite of a night without sleep. I went up to the room again. It seemed different from last night. I suppose that was because the workmen were there. I could not settle to anything. I kept thinking of Ann Alice. It was almost as though I were living her life and expected to see the wicked Desmond Featherstone appear at any moment.

Reading the journal had been a shattering experience for me.

At luncheon Granny M could talk of nothing else but the journal. She had stayed in bed all morning reading it.

"It's a terrible story," she said. "What do you think happened to that girl?"

"Do you think they came up and murdered her?"

"I think it very likely."

"And then walled up the room?"

"Why should they do that?"

"I don't know. They buried her ... We know that. I was the one who found her grave."

"It is a mystery that we cannot hope to solve. I wonder what that map will reveal. This island the young man talked about... where is it? Perhaps it never existed. We don't know much about the young man. The girl was so besottedly in love with him, doubtless she didn't see him clearly."

"Oh, I am sure he loved her. He believed in that island. They were going to find it. I wonder what happened to him."

"Yes, so do I. Perhaps he went to the island after the girl died."

"Imagine his coming back and finding her dead!"

"Well, it will be interesting to hear what Benjamin has to say about the map."

I was so eager to know that I went over to the shop that afternoon. I found Philip and Benjamin surrounded by old maps.

Philip shook his head at me.

"There's no sign of it anywhere."

"If it existed it would have been discovered by now," said Benjamin. "These seas have been charted."

"It is possible, I suppose, that it could have been missed."

Benjamin shrugged his shoulders. "Just possible, I suppose." He tapped the map. "This has been made by someone who knows what he is doing."

"Yes. He was a professional."

"Mr. Mallory was telling me about the discovery of the journal. In my opinion, this young man made a mistake about the locality."

"But if it were somewhere in this area..."

"It is hardly likely. It would have been discovered by now. You say this map was made nearly a hundred years ago. We've made long strides since then." He shook his head. "One never knows. It could be wrong, of course. I imagine he drew it from memory."

"I should love to find that island," said Philip.

"If it exists," added Benjamin.

"It exists," retorted Philip. "I feel it in my bones."

We sat talking. To me it was like taking a journey through the ocean. I listened to them. I caught Philip's eagerness. I loved him dearly. He had such wonderful vitality and when he took an interest in something it was never half-hearted.

He was obsessed about that island as I was about Ann Alice. Our curiosity differed slightly. I yearned to know what had happened on that night. Philip's thoughts were all for the island.

Often later I thought back to that afternoon in the shop and many times I wished I had never found that map.

Philip could talk of nothing else. I would often find him with old maps stretched out before him.

"It could have been in an entirely different part of the world," he said.

"Listen ," I replied. "He was a map maker. He would no more mistake the locality than you would."

"Everyone can make mistakes."

His intensely blue eyes looked into space. "Annalice," he said, "I want to find that island."

He wouldn't leave it alone. It was an obsession. Granny M noticed it and was disturbed.

Gow and his men had finished the roof and were working on the room. All the soft furnishings had been destroyed. They were in tatters. But some of the furniture was quite good and would be restored.

I went through her clothes. I wanted to do that myself. The gloves, the scarves, the hats and gowns ... all her personal belongings. I instructed the servants to wash some of the dresses. Many of them were perished but those which were not I put into a trunk in the attic with her hats and shoes.

I treated them reverently. I felt very close to her and sometimes I had the extraordinary notion that she was watching me and thanking me.

I went up to the room before they started to mend the woodwork and paint the walls. Gow was there. I asked him about the stains on the walls.

He said it was hard to tell what had caused them after so long. It might have been damp ... discolouration.

"It seems to be splashed," I pointed out. "Could it be ... blood?"

"Blood, Miss Annalice? Well, it could be, I suppose ... By the look of it... yes it could be. I wouldn't have thought of that though. Damp and time do odd things to buildings. Why should you think it was blood, Miss Annalice?"

"I just wondered."

"Well, whatever it was we'll soon have these walls looking like new. It'll be a nice room when we've seen to the window."

"And the window will be exactly where it was before?"

"Have to be. That was where it was walled in like. You'll be able to see it from outside now the creeper's cut away. I reckon that's why they let the creeper grow there. There's a difference in the bricks, you see. Oh, this will be a nice room when we've done with it."

Now they have done it. The restored furniture is there. The bed, the chest of drawers, the chairs. This is how it must have looked when Ann Alice sat in it and wrote her journal.

The servants still will not go there after dark. They say it is creepy.

But I often go and sit there in the early evening. Sometimes I speak to her. "Ann Alice," I say, "I wish you would come back and tell me."

Sometimes there seems to be a presence there. But maybe that is only my fancy.

The house and everything seem different since the revelations which came on that night of the storm. She comes into my mind so often and at odd moments I could almost feel that she is beside me. There is some special bond between us. We are of the same blood; we have almost the same name; we have lived in the same house. It is only time that separates us. I often think: What is time? Is it possible to bridge the gulf?

I never say such things. Granny M and Philip are far too practical. They would laugh at my fancies. But Philip has his fancies too.

Constantly he talked of that island. I can see plans forming in his mind. So can Granny M. And she is very uneasy.

One day at dinner Philip said: "I have always wanted to explore new areas, to chart right on the scene. I've always been intrigued by the practical side of the business."

I knew him so well that I was not surprised when he went on to explain that David Gutheridge, a botanist—this was a friend of his with whom he had been at school and who came of a seafaring family—was planning to go on an expedition to the South Seas. Philip went on: "He has suggested I go with him."

Granny M was silent but she expressed no surprise.

"It has always been what I wanted to do," said Philip. "There are some very sophisticated instruments in use now... some of which were never dreamed of a hundred years ago. I would like to check up on some of our charts. I think ... and Benjamin agrees with me... that they might be a little in error here and there in these waters."

Granny M came to my room that night.

"He's determined to go," she said.

She looked rather pathetic suddenly—something I had thought she never could.

"I knew it had to come," she said. "It's natural"

"You wont try to stop him?" -

She shook her head. "No. It wouldn't be right. It's his life ... his profession. He's right in a way. We cannot stand still in one place. He should go out into the world. Benjamin should have done. If he had he would be right at the top now. Philip must go. I have always known it."

"We shall miss him ... terribly."

"It will only be for a year or so. But he'll come back ... enriched, fulfilled. Yes, I shall miss him. But I have you, my dear. I can't tell you what a comfort you two children have been to me."

I felt limp, frustrated. How / should love to go with Philip!

If I could have made plans with him, I should have been so happy, so excited.

I had been on the point of suggesting it to Philip. I had wondered what his reaction would be. But I could see now that I should have to stay with Granny M.

One day perhaps I would go out there to those secret waters. I longed to discover Magnus's Paradise Island.

That was what Ann Alice had wanted to do. And so did I.

I felt melancholy.

Life seemed frustrating.

On a bright day, at the beginning of October, Granny M and I travelled down to Southampton to wave our goodbyes.

Philip had gone on ahead with all his gear; he was to sleep on the ship for a night or two before it set out to carry him across the seas.

I felt very sad, and so did Granny M. But she was convinced that it was the right way to act and I suppose I agreed with her. It was the first time Philip had gone away—apart from school, of course. I remembered how desolate I used to be on those occasions. But how much worse was this!

I had helped him with his preparations and if anything we had been closer during the last weeks than ever before.

"I wish you were coming." he said. "What fun that would be!"

"Oh. how I wish it! It's going to be devastatingly dull without you."

Philip said: "Many times I've been about to say you should come. But we couldn't both leave the old lady, could we?"

"No, of course not."

"Never mind. When I've found the island we'll all go out and visit it. I'll bet Granny M would be game."

"Come back soon," I said.

He had suggested that I make a copy of the map. "So that you have one," he said. "In any case, it is better for there to be two."

"I think I could do it almost from memory."

"I want it to be exact."

"All right."

I made the map. I was rather proud of it.

I showed it to Philip who said: "Perfect. Exact in every detail. Put it in a safe place."

I said almost without thinking: "I'll put it at the back of one of my drawers." Then I had a strange feeling that that was what Ann Alice must have said—or thought—when the map had been given to her.

And now he was going.

Granny M looked pale and sad, as we stood there on the dock watching the ship glide out of the harbour while Philip stayed on deck waving to us.

We remained there until we could see him no more.

Life had become monotonous. The days seemed long and now that they were drawing in, rather depressing. When I was in the garden I often looked up at the new window which had been put in and sometimes I fancied I saw a face there. One gets fanciful on dark afternoons in a big house which has become full of shadows.

Christmas came. I was longing for it to be over. It wasn't the same without Philip and at such times it was brought home more vividly how we missed him.

We tried to be enthusiastic. We discussed presents and such things. The only Christmas present I wanted was to see Philip walk in.

The Fentons came to us and we visited the Gal tons; we dined with the vicar and his ineffectual wife. We had the village children's Christmas party the day after Boxing Day in the Manor, all just as we always had had. We tried to make it a normal Christmas.

"Time is passing," said Granny M. "He'll be home soon. He just wants to look at the place ... and satisfy himself that it is there ... then he'll come home."

I wasn't sure. He had always wanted to go to sea. He would become fascinated sailing the ocean, hoping that he was going to make discoveries... just as I should if I had been with him.

In February we had a letter from him. What excitement that was! I read it. Granny M read it: I read it aloud to her and she read it aloud to me, for reading it was like having Philip with us.

"Dear Granny and Annalice, Sydney

"Here I am! I can't believe I have really arrived and that you two are on the other side of the world.

"We had a fairly smooth journey—at least I was told it was smooth. It was hardly how I should have described it. There are some amusing fellows in the botanical party. They are here in Sydney at the moment and they are leaving tomorrow. I shall be on my own then.

"I am planning to explore the islands some hundreds of miles off the coast here. There is a ship that goes every Wednesday. That is the day after tomorrow ... so I shall get this off to you before I leave.

"I hope it reaches you. It has a long way to go, but they assure me that letters do get safely home and four hundred mail bags leave Australia for England every week.

"I wish you were here. Then everything would be fine. I've seen several people in Sydney but none of them so far has given me any information about Paradise Island. I studied several maps but it is not marked on any of them. It really is rather mysterious.

"As soon as there are any developments, I'll write again.

"I am fit and well. Never felt better and am raring to go.

"Perhaps you will be seeing me soon.

"Your devoted grandson and brother,

"Philip."

"He seems as though he is finding the life amusing and interesting," said Granny M.

"Philip usually finds life amusing and interesting."

"He always had the urge to wander. Perhaps having had a taste of it he'll long for the comforts of home."

I wondered.

One day merged into another. Each day I watched for a letter from Philip.

"Of course mail coming from such a long way would be uncertain " said Granny M. "I daresay a number of letters get lost."

I agreed with her: but how I longed for news!

The shop had lost its charm for me. Every time I went in I thought of Philip. When I looked at the maps with those far-off seas, I would think of the terrible things that could happen on them. I remembered the account of storms in Ann Alice's journal. Where was Philip? and how would he be faring on those treacherous seas? He had talked of taking a boat to the islands. Was he still there?

Talking to Benjamin brought little comfort. He made a great effort to be cheerful and optimistic, but he was merely depressing.

Granny M was anxious to lift us out of our melancholy and with characteristic good sense made up her mind that we must stop torturing ourselves with possibilities. It would be wonderful to hear from Philip but if we did not, we must consider the difficulties of communication and not think the worst. In any event we must get on with our own lives.

When she heard there was to be a conference of cartographers in London she declared her intention of going. Benjamin and I should go with her. "It will be of the utmost interest," she declared.

My first thought was: How exciting it would have been if Philip were going with us. Then I tried to be sensible and gave myself up to preparations.

It was to last three days and Benjamin was instructed to book us in to Blake's Hotel, where the family had always stayed on its visits to London. It was highly respectable and what was called an "old-fashioned" hotel situated not far from Piccadilly. I had stayed there before and been impressed by the hushed atmosphere which I believed was created by the heavy curtains and thick carpets, by porters in liveries of dark blue lightened only by shining brass buttons, silent-footed waiters and discreet chambermaids.

There were to be several meetings and a ball at one of the more florid hotels.

Preparations ensued. We must have new ball dresses. There was bustle throughout the house, which in spite of myself I found exciting, and it did take our minds temporarily from our anxieties about Philip.

It was always thrilling to be in London and it was impossible for one's spirits not to be lifted a little to contemplate all that bustle and vitality which we lacked on our village Green. I was fascinated by the street traders and the German bands and the people dashing to and fro across the roads which they seemed to do so recklessly that I thought they were going right under the horses which were drawing the hansom cabs, the broughams and the landaus that filled the streets.

One could not help being caught up in the excitement. I liked the shops too and made up my mind that I was going to spend many an hour browsing through the goods displayed there before I returned home.

The conference was interesting. It was held in a big room at one of the grander hotels. There were lectures on various aspects, and coloured lithography was widely discussed.

Benjamin had gone on ahead of us because Granny M and I wanted to look in at one of the shops. Granny M had said: "Don't worry about us. We'll see you after the lecture. Don't attempt to save seats for us. We'll look after ourselves."

Our hansom was held up in the traffic and, as it happened, when Granny M and I arrived, the lecture was just about to start.

We were a little abashed when we entered the hall to find it full, and it seemed as though there were no seats available. I suppose we

looked a little bewildered for a young man who was seated in the back row saw us and immediately rose and offered his seat to Granny M.

She was hesitating when an attendant came along with two extra chairs which were set down behind the back row, so the young man and I sat down behind Granny M.

I said: "Thank you very much. That was most kind of you."

"It was a pleasure," he replied with one of the most disarming smiles I have ever seen.

I found the lecture of great interest. So apparently did he, but I noticed that every now and then he was glancing sideways at me. I had to admit that I took a few looks at him too. He was of medium height—slightly taller than I, but then I was tall; he had light brown hair and eyes of a slightly darker brown, good, though undistinguished features, but what was so pleasant about him was his frank engaging smile.

The lecture over, Granny M turned to thank him again and he repeated that it was a pleasure. He added that he believed there was some sort of refreshment which was being served. Would we care to join him? He was alone.

Granny M said: "We have a friend here. He went on ahead. I daresay he is down at the front somewhere."

"Perhaps we could find him. I believe there are tables for four."

While we were talking Benjamin came up.

"This is Mr. Benjamin Darkin who is general manager of what we call our shop in Great Stanton."

"Don't tell me you are Mallory's Maps."

"We are indeed," said Granny M.

"This is a great honour to meet you. I'm Billington ... Raymond Billington."

"It is indeed an honour to meet you, Sir," said Benjamin.

"What is so pleasant about gatherings like this," I said, "is that even though people haven't met before, they know of each other."

"And have a chance to get to know each other which is so much more satisfactory than knowing of," said Raymond Billington.

We all went along to the room where the refreshments were served and Granny M and I seated ourselves at a table for four while the men went off to get the refreshment.

That was an extremely fascinating encounter. We were all vitally interested in what had been said during the lecture and we discussed it with animation, exchanging views, agreeing, disagreeing, expounding our own ideas. The men took charge of the conversation because they were more deeply involved, but Granny M and I were knowledgeable enough to be able to take part and were by no means excluded.

We were reluctant to leave.

Raymond Billington said we should all go to the next lecture together because it was so interesting to exchange views afterwards.

There was to be some sort of forum later on during which he would be on the platform. He would get us tickets for the front row.

He had his own brougham for the Billingtons had their offices in the City of London and he told us that he lived just a little way out in Knightsbridge.

So he took us back to our hotel and we parted, having made arrangements to see him again.

Granny M was very taken with him.

"What a delightful young man," was her comment, and that said a good deal for she was inclined to be critical, particularly of the young.

Benjamin said that he had been rather overawed to meet one of the Billington family. "You know what a reputation they have, Mrs. Mallory."

"Very good indeed, but of course they are not of such long standing as the Mallorys."

"Oh no, Mrs. Mallory, of course not. They only go back about a hundred years."

"Not as long as that," Granny M corrected him. "About eighty at the most. However, credit where credit is due. They have a very good reputation in the world of maps."

"I liked that young man," repeated Granny M later.

So did I. He had helped me to forget Philip for quite a little time.

It turned out, during the next three days, that wherever we went we were accompanied by Mr. Raymond Billington.

He took us to his family's premises near the Strand and we had an interesting morning touring them. He introduced us to his father and to his young brother Basil, who was just coming into the business. They were very agreeable and, said Granny M, just what one would expect Raymond Billington's family to be.

Granny M said that Raymond must come to Great Stanton and we would show him how we worked.

We were all impressed by his performance at the forum and he gave straightforward and very knowledgeable answers to the questions which were asked.

We were all rather sorry as the conference was drawing to its close. It had been a stimulating three days.

He asked if he might conduct us to the ball which was to bring the proceedings to an end, and of course permission was gratefully granted.

It would have been false modesty on my part if I had not admitted that the assiduous attention he bestowed on us was largely due to his interest in me. And it would have been more than false if I had denied that I was pleased.

I liked him. I found him a great improvement on Charles Fenton and Gerald Galton. He was interesting, charming, sophisticated, in fact he was all that a young man should be.

He danced well and carried me along with him. I felt in complete harmony with him.

He said: "This has been an exciting conference ... quite the best I ever attended."

"They have them every year, don't they? This is the first time I have been. Perhaps we shall meet next year."

"Oh... before that, I hope."

I laughed. "Well, a year is rather a long time."

"Your grandmother has invited me to see your premises in Great Stanton"

"She is very enthusiastic about them, although of course Mr. Darkin is the expert who runs the place."

"You are very knowledgeable too."

"Oh... I'm interested. They all say it is from the romantic angle. I look at the blue seas and see palm trees and natives in canoes."

"It's all part of it."

"But you are interested in sextants and the instruments you use for measuring distances ... and so on. Far too practical for me. My brother is like that."

I paused. Philip had intruded and with him came sadness.

"Your brother? Where is he?"

"We don't know. We are very anxious. He went off on an expedition last October."

"And you haven't heard of him since?"

"One letter only."

"Well, that's not bad. Communication is difficult from so far off, you know."

"Yes, I suppose so."

We danced in silence.

"Now, you're sad," he said, after a long pause.

"I'm thinking of him."

"You must tell me more about him."

"Well, you know how it is. Two children... left to themselves. My mother died and my father went away and married again. He has another family in Holland. My grandmother brought us up."

"She seems a very charming lady but I fancy she could be formidable."

"That's true. Philip and I were a good deal together."

"You must tell me about it... about your childhood. I want to know everything about you."

"It's not very interesting. It could be told in a very short time."

"I believe I should find it of the utmost interest."

His arm tightened about me.

I said: "The music is coming to an end."

"Yes, alas. The dance is over."

We went back to Granny M and Benjamin.

"Shall we go and find some supper together?" asked Raymond.

He was very efficient looking after us. We secured one of the best tables in the room and he and Benjamin went off to bring the food from the buffet.

"What a pleasant conference this has been," said Granny M. "I never enjoyed one more, and a lot of it is due to that charming young man. Has it ever occurred to you, Annalice, how little incidents shape our lives. If we had not been late we might not have met him."

"He gave us his seat. That's hardly shaping our lives."

"Knowing him might well do so." She looked contented, rather complacent. I knew what she was thinking. Here was a young man who was attracted to me. She worried about my lack of opportunities for getting to know people and I think she realized that the Fentons and Galtons were not for me.

And myself? How did I feel? I liked him. I liked him very much. And how should I feel if I said goodbye to him forever? Sad... definitely sad. A little nostalgic?

Was that what was called falling in love? There was nothing violent about it. No breathtaking moments, no knowing without doubt that this was the one. It was just pleasant—well, rather delightful.

The men came back with salmon and little new potatoes and green peas. A waiter brought the champagne which Raymond had ordered. And there we sat, on the last day of the conference, laughing, joking, reminiscing about the lectures, commenting on this and that.

"This is a wonderful finale," said Granny M. "And I want to thank you, Mr. Billington, for making it all so easy and pleasant for us."

"But I have done nothing."

"Nonsense. You, as they say, know your way about. And you have made it doubly enjoyable. Is that not so, Annalice? Benjamin?"

We declared that it was.

"Well, you are coming to see our little shop are you not?"

"I shall be there as soon as I am asked."

"Well, what about the week after next. That would fit in with your plans, Benjamin? Have you anything special to get in the way?"

"Nothing at all," said Benjamin.

"Perhaps you would like to think about it, Mr. Billington."

"I don't need to think about it. I am all eagerness to come whenever you suggest."

"Then that is settled. The Stantons are not very far from London. You will be our guest, of course. We are in the Manor House on Little Stanton Green."

"I shall be so happy to come," he said; and he was looking at me as he spoke.

Our anxiety over Philip did fade a little into the background as we prepared for Raymond Billington's visit.

"We shall have to entertain him," I said. "We had better arrange some dinner parties."

"Well manage," said Granny M. "I expect he will want to see something of the countryside. I told him that you ride a good deal. He might like to ride with you."

Granny M was quite transparent. It was obvious that she regarded him as the ideal grandson-in-law. He was reasonably wealthy, of good appearance, had charm and good manners; moreover he was involved in the fascinating business of map making; and I think what influenced her a great deal was that he did not live too far away.

She visualized her granddaughter coming to stay at the Manor with her children. And Granny M herself visiting the happy family. I could see how her mind worked.

Dear Granny M, she suffered more than she would admit from Philip's absence. She was always optimistic about his return but I wondered what went on in her secret thoughts.

I threw myself wholeheartedly into the preparations for Raymond's visit, partly because I did like him very much and was eager to see him again, but chiefly I think to turn away my thoughts of Philip, if that were possible, for with every passing day which brought no news of him, my anxiety must increase.

Raymond came and seemed more charming than ever. He was greatly intrigued by the Manor House and fascinated by the shop. He spent a long time in Benjamin's company examining the machinery as well as the maps.

I took him riding and I think he enjoyed that as much as anything. I showed him the countryside and we stopped at some of the smaller

inns where we could drink cider and eat hot bread straight from the oven, with cheese or fruit or sometimes hot bacon and beef.

He told me a great deal about himself. This was usually while we sat in an inn parlour, or sometimes, if the weather was good, on a bench outside the inn.

He had been brought up with maps. It was in the family. They had not been involved as long as the Mallorys, of course, but his grandfather had founded the business, in the early years of the century. In the year 1820 to be precise. It seemed a long time ago, but compared with the Mallorys, it was hardly any time at all.

I talked to him a great deal about Philip, and talking I remembered so much about my brother which I had forgotten.

"I can see he is someone very special to you."

"Yes. He is wonderful."

"I think you would have liked to accompany him on his travels."

I nodded. "How I wish I had. But of course I could not have left my grandmother."

"It would be rather unusual for a young lady to go off to the South Seas. But you are an unusual young lady."

"I would have made him take me but for Granny M."

He understood immediately.

"I hope to meet your brother... one day."

"I hope you do."

"And I want you to meet my family."

"I should like that."

"We have a house in the country... in Buckinghamshire. The place in London is not really our home. We are there to be near the business, of course. I get down to the country when I can. I have a grandmother like yours. She is a wonderful old lady. I should like you to meet her. She is considerably older than Mrs. Mallory, but lively and bright mentally, though a little incapacitated with rheumatism. Will you come and meet her?"

"I should like to."

"Before the summer is out. I usually go in August. I am going to ask your grandmother to visit us then. Do you think she will agree?"

"I have no doubt whatsoever."

"I shall mention it to her this evening."

"Yes do. I am sure she will be delighted to accept."

We were in the inn when this conversation took place. A little light filtered through the small windows onto his face. It was very eager, tender, almost shining with affection. I felt drawn to him; he must have felt the same towards me for he put his hand across the table and took mine.

*i want us to get to know each other ... well." he said.

"Yes." I answered. "I am sure that would be most... rewarding."

As we came out into the sunshine it seemed as though there was an understanding between us. For some reason I felt a trifle unsure. I liked him very much. His visit had been a great success and we should miss him when he had gone.

But perhaps I had dreamed too many romantic dreams. I had found his company very enjoyable, but it was not the intoxicating experience I had thought falling in love would be.

Our friendship with Raymond Billington ripened during the summer days. He would often come to us for the weekend; he and I would ride in the country and he spent some time at the shop with Benjamin. His visits helped to stop us brooding on Philip's absence.

I could see that I was moving towards an understanding. It was rather pleasant, like drifting downstream in a boat in the not-too-hot sunshine to the strains of a mandoline. Comforting without being breathtaking.

I heard one of the maids talking to another and she referred to Raymond as Miss Annalice's "intended."

I was now nineteen, a little older than Ann Alice had been when she died. I could not help identifying myself with her. though since the coming of Raymond she had grown a little remote. I was getting over the shock of finding the diary and I was beginning to think of the days before I had with a certain nostalgia, for if I had never found it. Philip would still be here. He would not have gone off in search of an elusive island which according to the map makers did not exist.

It was comforting to look to the future, to wait for Raymond's visits and to allow myself a few discreet glimpses into the future.

Marriage with Raymond. I believed it could be for me ... if I wanted it. Did I want it? Partly ... yes. Most people married and if they did not they were often vaguely dissatisfied, constantly thinking with regret of what they had missed. What had Granny once said? Something like: You must choose and if you leave the choice too late there might not be any to choose from.

I supposed most people accepted a compromise. Young girls dreamed of romance .. . impossible dreams of knights on chargers, shining heroes who in truth had no part in everyday life.

Raymond was what would be called highly eligible. I liked him very much. I should be disappointed if he discontinued his visits or transferred his attentions to someone else. He had certainly made us all happier and although we still looked for Philip's letters I am sure that even Granny M did not mourn quite so much as she had before we went to the conference. Raymond had done that for us and when he suggested we should visit his family in Buckinghamshire, it seemed that my mind was being made up for me.

"They all talk of the house in Buckinghamshire as home," Raymond explained to us.

He told us that his grandfather had bought the house in 1820. It was then an ancient mansion which had been damaged—though not completely destroyed—by fire, and there was still much of the old building standing.

The family had lived in it ever since.

"You'll probably think it is a bit of a hotchpotch. Part of it is pure Tudor and I think the architects made a mistake in not attempting to restore it to what it was once. In the eighteen fifties a great deal of building was done in the style of that period—flamboyant and ornate, which really does not merge in very well. Still, for all its faults, we love it."

Granny M and I travelled down by train and were met at the station by Raymond.

He was delighted to see us and we were soon bowling along those leafy lanes of Buckinghamshire. We turned into a drive and after we had gone for about a quarter of a mile, we rounded a bend and there was the house.

I saw at once how it fitted Raymond's description. It was solid and in its way magnificent. It was grey stone and very ornate—with twirls and coils at every conceivable spot. There was a great porch over which creeper climbed and a large glass conservatory stretching along the side of the house.

"We always say that everything that could be put into it, was," said Raymond. "It's an example of Victorian architecture, so I've been told. You might think it is a little flamboyant, but let me tell you one thing—it is comfortable."

"It looks most interesting," I cried. "I am longing to explore."

"And those members of the family who haven't already met you are longing to make your acquaintance."

Granny M was absolutely purring with satisfaction. I could sense she was liking everything about Raymond more and more.

The family was waiting for us. His father and Basil whom we already knew welcomed us like old friends and we were introduced to his mother, his sister Grace, and his youngest brother James.

Raymond's mother was a little woman with bright laughing eyes.

She said: "We've heard so much about you, not only from Raymond, but from Father and Basil. We're just longing to meet you."

I looked round at the smiling faces and I felt very happy to be received so warmly into such a family.

"Show them their rooms first," suggested Raymond. "Then well have tea and talk."

"You come with me, Grace," said Mrs. Billington. And to us: "We hope you'll be comfortable."

"I am sure we shall," 1 replied with conviction.

"It is so kind of you to ask us," added Granny M.

"We have wanted to do so for so long. Raymond has told us about your meeting at the conference. Maps... That's all they think of. The conversation in this house! It's maps, maps and more maps, isn't it, Grace?"

Grace said it was. "There was Raymond and Father," she added. "And now James is getting just as bad."

"It's in the family," said Mrs. Billington. She paused on the stairs, I guessed because she thought they might be a little too steep for Granny M. "You're on the second floor," she went on. "That's where the guest rooms are. It is a bit of a climb, but there is a nice view when you get there. The house is rather large and not very well planned, they say. You can get lost easily. But after a while it all slips into place. Oh, here we are. This is yours, Mrs. Mallory, and I've put Annalice... I hope you don't mind, my dear, but we always call you Annalice among ourselves... and it slips out."

"I'm glad," I told her. "It makes me feel at home right away."

"That's what we want. You're here. Right next to each other."

She opened a door. There were french windows onto a stone balcony on which stood pots of flowering shrubs. The room was light and lofty compared with our Tudor ones. I gave a gasp of admiration which clearly pleased our hostess.

"It's lovely," I said.

"These are the rooms in the front. They are a little bigger than those at the back."

"We wanted to make a good impression," said Grace.

"Grace!" said her mother in mock reproof.

"I daresay they would like to wash and tidy up before tea, Mother," said Grace.

"I'd thought of that. The hot water is coming. Here it is. Come in, Jane."

The maid bobbed a curtsey and I smiled at her.

"Put it down there, Jane," said Mrs. Billington. "About fifteen minutes, eh? Is that enough?"

"Quite enough, isn't it, Granny," I said, and Granny M agreed.

In ten minutes I was ready to go down and I went into Granny M's room. She was ready too.

"Charming," she said. "A lovely family. I am so pleased. I wish ..."

I knew what she was wishing and said: "Perhaps it won't be long before we hear from him. Raymond says that mail is often delayed in these far-off places."

We went down to tea. Hot muffins and several kinds of cakes were laid out on the table.

The drawing room was large and lofty and the fireplace immense and very decorative with angels carved on either side of it as though supporting it. A large marble clock stood on the mantelpiece and on the walls were pictures of men in Victorian dress.

"The ancestors," said Grace, following my gaze. "We can't sport many so we make the most of what we have got. I hear it is different with the Mallorys. Raymond has described your house in detail."

"Don't give me away," said Raymond.

"He thinks your house is wonderful," Grace told me.

"I hope I shall get an invitation to see it," said Basil.

"You have it now," put in Granny M.

"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Mallory."

We talked about the country and the difference between our respective villages; and when in due course the conversation turned to map making that was natural enough.

"It's strange," said Mrs. Billington, "how this sort of thing runs in families."

Granny M agreed. "It is the same with ours. My grandson, Philip, was brought up to it and it was clear, from an early age, that there was nothing else for him."

"I hear he is away on an expedition."

"Yes, to the Pacific."

"That is what I should like to do," said James.

"Hark at him!" cried Basil. "They all want to go out to adventure. They think it is some pleasure cruise. It's quite different, I do assure :you."

"You have been?" I asked.

"Yes, I went when I was sixteen."

"I thought it would be good for him," said Mr. Billington. "James will go in due course. It is a good way of introducing them to the realities. They soon realize it is not all that much of a pleasure cruise, as Basil says. There are certain discomforts."

"I'll second that," said Basil.

"My grandson has been away since last October," Granny M told them.

"You can't do much in a year." said Mr. Billington.

"We haven't heard from him for some time.** 1 put in rather shakily.

"One doesn't. The mail is so very difficult. I don't think we heard from you. Basil, all the time you were av.

"I wasn't going to put all that effort into writing letters which might never arrive.**

"From which." said Grace, "you gather our Basil is not the most energetic of mortals.**

I met Raymond's eyes and he smiled at me. It was a warm and happy smile.

Tea over, Raymond and I went for a walk in the gardens surrounding the house while Mrs. Billington and Grace took Granny M on a tour of the house.

Raymond told me that he was so pleased I had come. "It is hard to believe,** he added, "that it is only three months since that memorable day at the lecture."

"It has all gone very quickly to me. Has it seemed so long to your

He took my arm. "Both long and short. Not long enough ... and short while it is happening, and yet I feel I have known you for years... and that makes it seem long." He paused to look at me earnestly and then he went on: "These gardens are my mother s joy. She does quite a lot of work in them. She has her garden and her stillroom. She'll want to show them to you."

"She is very charming." I said.

"I have been hoping that you two would get along."

"I should imagine no one could fail to get along with her."

"Nor with you."

"Oh, that is a different proposition. I am sure."

He laughed and pressed my arm.

We talked about the flowers but I don't believe that either of us was really thinking of them.

We dined that night in the big dining room with its massive fireplace and ornate ceiling. The woodwork was intricately carved and it gave the impression that everything that could be put in that space had been included.

It was a jolly company and even the servants gave the impression of enjoying the fun as they tripped round with the various dishes, supervised by the butler. I could sense a tremendous interest in me on all sides.

I remembered what our servants had said about Raymond's my "intended." I rather felt that was what was being thought here.

How the conversation came back to maps! It was rather as it was in our house. We had constantly talked of them, and on those occasions when Benjamin Darkin came to dinner they were the sole topic.

This was like our family —only larger. The Billingtons gave me the impression that they were doing exactly what they wanted in life, achieving their goals and not forgetting to be grateful to fate for giving them so much.

I could easily become a member of this family —a Billington. spending my life here in this heavy, stone Victorian house —what a purist would call a monstrosity of architecture. Of course it lacked the fascination of antiquity, the elegance of an earlier age: but I liked it, with all its flamboyant carvings, its twists and its twirls, its stone lions and dragons; and I knew that the Billingtons would not have changed it for the finest mansion in the country. And I could understand that.

Our house would seem a little sad after this.

But we should stay for at least a week. I was looking forward to that and I need not think of leaving yet—nor of making any hasty decisions.

Coffee was served in the drawing room when the men joined us after sitting over the port while Granny M. Mrs. Billington. Grace and I chatted together.

"It is so pleasant to meet all the family," said Granny M.

Grace surprised me when she said: "Oh . .. you haven't met everybody yet."

"But I thought you were all here?" said Granny M.

"Well, all except Grandmother," said Grace.

"Grandmother." explained Raymond, "is eighty years old. She very much wants to meet you but she was a little unwell yesterday and the doctor says she must rest today. If she is better tomorrow we will take you to meet her."

"I look forward to that."

"She lives in the past a great deal," said Mrs. Billington.

"She can tell some good stories about the family when she gets going," added Basil.

The evening passed in pleasant conversation, and Granny M and I had a chat in her room before retiring.

"What a delightful family!" she said. ~It makes you wish there were more of us. It's made me think of your father over there in Holland ... with those children. We ought all to be together."

"Why don't you ask him to come over?"

"I dont know. There's been a rift. He knows I don't like his living over there and getting out of the business as he did. That was a big

blow. What I should have done without Benjamin, I can't imagine. I envy these people. There are three sons... and the girl knows something about the business too."

"There is a fascination about map making. Our lives seem to revolve round it."

"Yes... But for it we should not be here. You would never have met Raymond. I like him, Annalice. I'm a good judge of people and I like him very much. I like the whole family. I should like to see a lot of them, be close to them."

"I know what you're saying, of course," I said.

"You are fond of him. And there is no doubt of his feelings for you."

"I like him very much."

"Feelings grow stronger, you know. Sometimes they need time. Oh, there's a lot of nonsense talked about taking one look and falling head over heels in love. You don't want to take too much notice of that. Sometimes... when all the surroundings are suitable... that's the best way. That's how it was with your grandfather and me. Everything fitted... and I was fond of him. I was fascinated by his enthusiasm for business. Well, you two start with that. I used to wish you were a boy, so that you could go into it thoroughly, make a career of it. It's difficult with girls. They don't have much chance. The only thing is marriage. Sometimes when you're very young, you don't think about it very much ... You don't think of the future."

I put my arms round her and kissed her. "It's all right, Granny. You don't have to sell him to me. I liked him from the first moment I saw him and I am liking him more and more every day."

She smiled and returned my kiss warmly, which was rare with her, for she was not demonstrative by nature.

"You children mean a lot to me," she said. "I often think about Philip and wonder. Suppose he never comes back."

"Don't say that, Granny. Don't even think of it."

"That's not very wise. It's better to face all possibilities, however unpleasant they may be. You can handle them better if they become realities. I was saying suppose, just suppose, Philip never came back ... one of those boys in Holland would have to inherit. Who knows, one of them might want to take up cartography as a career."

"Oh Granny, I don't want to talk like this. Not tonight, not here. I want to forget how worried we are."

"You're right, my dear. We're worrying about something that has never happened. I just want you to realize how good it is to have a family around you. Happiness does not just come to you, as young and romantic girls might think. You have to make it."

"You think Raymond is going to ask me to marry him, don't you?"

She nodded. "One little sign from you and he would."

"Granny, I have known him only three months."

"You've seen a great deal of him during that time."

"Yes, I have."

"And doesn't he improve on acquaintance?"

"I think perhaps he does."

Granny M nodded, well pleased.

The next day I was introduced to the grandmother. Grace took me up to her.

"She's a little deaf," Grace warned me. "She won't admit it, and often pretends she can hear when she can't."

I nodded.

"But she knows you are here and very much wants to see you."

I stood before her chair and she peered at me. Her eyebrows were grey and rather bushy, but her eyes beneath them were dark and alert.

"Ah. So you are the young lady I have been hearing so much about."

"Have you? I hope it was pleasant."

She gave a little laugh. "All very pleasant. Are you enjoying your stay here, my dear?"

"Very much, thank you."

"I am sorry I was in my room when you arrived. It was that young doctor. They order you about sometimes when you are getting on in years."

"Oh no, Grandmother," protested Grace. "You know you won't allow that."

"No, I don't, do I? I've got a will of my own. I expect they've told you. It's not a bad thing to have."

"I believe it is a very valuable asset."

"And I believe, young lady, that you don't merely believe that, but have one."

"Perhaps. I hadn't thought much about it."

"That proves you've got one. Well, sit down. Tell me about that Tudor Manor House. Your family has lived there for years, I believe."

"Oh yes, we've been there for ages. The family have been in possession from the time it was built."

"Very interesting. I wish we could go back so far."

"Grandmother always wants to delve back into the past, don't you, Grandmother?" said Grace.

"I like to think of those who have gone before. I hope you are

going to stay for a while, my dear, and not run away as soon as you have come."

"We shall stay here until the end of the week."

"You'll come and see me again, won't you?"

"I shall be delighted if I may do so."

"We thought we would just pop in and say how do you do, Grandmother. Annalice will come again tomorrow."

"Will you, my dear? I shall look forward to that."

Grace led the way out of the room.

"She's a little tired today. Then she gets rather absent-minded. So I thought we'd make it a brief visit. You can go and see her tomorrow afternoon if you feel like it."

I said I should be delighted to do so.

There were local people who came to dine with the family that night and we had another delightful evening. The next morning Raymond and I went out together. James said he would come with us and as we were about to leave for the stables, his mother called him back and said she wanted him to go into the town to do an errand for her. She herself was going to show Granny M how she made a special posset and they were going into the herb garden to collect the ingredients.

I guessed James had been called back so that Raymond and I could be alone together.

It was a lovely day for late August. The fields were bright with the waving corn. Raymond said: "There will be a bumper harvest this year." I thought the wind rustling through the ripening ears reminded me of the rise and fall of waves on a sandy shore and I was momentarily sad, thinking of Philip.

But it was not a morning for sadness. I had almost made up my mind that when Raymond asked me to marry him I would accept. If I were not madly in love, at least I was reasonably involved. I wanted this visit to go on and on; and when we returned home I should miss him. I tried to imagine how I should feel, if he announced tonight that he was going to marry someone else. There had been two pretty girls at dinner last night. What had I felt when I had seen him laughing and chatting with them? Was that a faint twinge of jealousy?

Granny M was right. My life with him would be very pleasant. I should be foolish if I did not take the opportunity which was being offered to me. Deep, abiding love could grow out of affection—and I certainly felt that for him.

I visualized how pleased everyone would be if we announced our engagement. It was what they wanted and I had a notion that they

expected us to announce it... perhaps on our last night. Then I should leave the house engaged to be married.

We should plunge into preparations. There would be so much to do that there would not be time to wonder where Philip was. I should forget now and then to look for a letter—only to have that hope dashed when there was none.

Yes, it seemed very likely that Raymond was going to ask me and that I was going to say Yes.

But he did not ask me that morning. Perhaps I had managed to convey my uncertainty to him.

The grandmother was not very well the next day so I did not go to see her as planned.

"Leave it for a day or so," said Grace. "She soon recovers and when she does she is very bright indeed. When you saw her she was not herself. She is usually very alert."

I said I thought she had been then, but Grace said: "Oh, but you don't know Grandmother. She can be very talkative when she is in form."

The days passed. There were rides with Raymond, Basil, and Grace. I very much enjoyed the evenings when we sat down to dinner with the family and sometimes their neighbours. They were rather given to entertaining. The conversation was always lively and when there were guests it diverged from cartography to politics. I listened avidly and as I had always taken an interest in affairs liked to contribute my own views.

One of the delightful aspects of life with the Billingtons was that if a subject was brought up it was always debated with some heat and not a little passion; but there was never any unpleasantness. It was in the nature of a debate rather than an argument.

The Irish question was, of course, on everyone's lips and the fate of Charles Stewart Parnell was discussed at some length. The divorce in which Captain O'Shea had cited him as co-respondent had ruined his career and the question was whether a man who was undoubtedly a leader should be condemned and dismissed from office on account of his private life.

I declared warmly that his work and his private life were two separate matters. I was assailed by Granny and Mrs. Billington who thought that Mr. Parnell's lapse from morality had rightly caused his fall from grace. Raymond was on my side. Grace hovered between the two; and Basil and James were inclined to agree with him while Mr. Billington swayed towards the point of view of Granny M and Mrs. Billington.

I had rarely enjoyed a meal so much and I thought: This is how it will be when I become one of them. It was a most exciting debate

and we sat long over the dinner table. And when the servants came to light the gas I was sure I wanted to stay here and become one of them.

I was enamoured of the entire family and the big rather ugly Victorian house which was so comfortable ... as they were.

If I did not agree to marry Raymond I was beginning to believe that I would regret it all my life.

The next morning we went riding again. It was one of those lovely days towards the end of the month when the first whiff of autumn is in the air and you know that September is just round the corner, bringing with it a chill in the mornings and mists in the valleys.

We stopped at an inn for a glass of cider and as we sat there Raymond smiled across the table at me and said: "I believe you are getting quite fond of my family."

"Who could help it," I replied.

"I agree that they are rather nice to know."

"And I could not agree more."

"The more you know of them the more you will love them. You will have to put up with Grace's absent-mindedness, with Basil's assumption that he knows everything and James's determination to prove that he does too; with my father's preoccupation with maps and my mother's with her garden; and mine... Well, I am not going to tell you my failings. I just hope you won't discover them for a very long time."

"I refuse to believe that you have any shortcomings. You're a perfect family and you all fit so well together. Granny and I are going to be sorry to leave you."

He put his hand across the table and took mine.

"You'll come back," he said. "You'll come back ... and stay for a long time."

"If we are asked," I said, "I think we might."

I believe he would have asked me to marry him then but just at that moment some rather noisy guests came into the inn parlour. They talked in very loud voices about the weather and the hunt ball which was to take place sometime... and they seemed to want to include us in their conversation.

It was as near as he had got to asking me. And I was certain he would do so before we left.

And at that moment I was sure of my answer. I was going to tell him that I wanted to marry him.

I should have done so but for one thing.

I had paid two visits to the grandmother. She seemed to like me to come. She would sit opposite me and watch me as she talked, her lively eyes beneath their bushy brows never leaving my face.

She told me she was very proud of her family and what they had achieved.

"They are a name to be reckoned with among people who make maps."

"Yes indeed," I agreed. "It is the same with my family. That was how we first met Raymond. At the conference... But you know that."

She nodded. "It was always the same. It was always the maps. Well, there is money in it. This house was built on maps, you might say."

"Oh yes indeed. It is quite a profitable business. Of course a great deal of risk and hard work goes into exploration behind and then the actual production of maps."

She smiled. "Your family too. They tell me you come from a family that can be traced right back to the days of the great Elizabeth."

"That's so. My grandmother always says that our ancestors were among those who sailed with Drake."

"I'd like to trace ours back. But there we are. We come to a full stop... and not far back either. The Billingtons are newcomers into the family. This house was built by my father. I was an only child and a girl. That meant the end of the family name. I married Joseph Billington, and that was the start of the Billingtons."

"I see."

"I thought of making a family tree. I started it ... in embroidery. But my eyes weren't good enough. It was a strain; and then I came to a full stop. I couldn't go back beyond my father—so it would have been a very short family tree. I expect you have one with branches all over the place."

"I've never thought of it. There might be one somewhere in the house. I'll find out when I get back."

"Very interesting ... I always find that sort of thing. I wish I knew of my father's father. His mother married twice ... the second time after he was born, so we don't know much about what happened before that. I'll show you my bit of embroidery. That's if you would like to see it."

"I should very much like to see it."

"See that box over there ... on the shelf. It's in there with all the coloured silks. I wrote the names in pencil and then embroidered them in whatever colour I thought best. I started at the bottom. I had to make it a tree ... Start at the roots, you see."

"What a good idea."

"Yes, but there's so little. It only spans a hundred years or so."

"Nevertheless I am longing to see it."

I put the box on the table and reverently she took out a large piece of linen. "There you see: Frederick Gilmour. That's my father. Now I don't know who his father is... except that he must have been a Mr. Gilmour. His mother was Lois. She was Mrs. Gilmour first. Then she married a George Mallory."

I felt a little faint. I cried out: "What... Freddy Gilmour—"

"Frederick Gilmour, dear. He was my father. It was his father I don't know much about. If only I could find out ... I might go farther back."

"Lois Gilmour," I repeated. "And she married a second time ... a George Mallory..."

Words from the journal seemed to swim before my eyes. It was almost as though I were reading it again. It must be. The names explained it. It could not be pure coincidence that Raymond's greatgrandfather was the Freddy of the diary. I made rapid calculations. How old had he been when he came to the Manor. Ann Alice wrote that he was eight. The grandmother must have been born about 1810, which would make her eighty now. Freddy would have been about twenty-five then. It fitted.

"What's the matter, my dear. You've gone suddenly silent as though you've had a shock."

I said: "I've just made a discovery. One of my ancestors married a Lois Gilmour. He was George Mallory."

"You mean you're one of the Mallorys?"

"Yes. Didn't you know?"

"Why, bless you, I don't think I ever heard your surname. They've always referred to you as Annalice."

"I'm Annalice Mallory. Our families must be connected in a way. What—er—happened to this Lois Gilmour...or Mallory as she became?"

"We don't know. It's a full stop. My father Frederick was a successful producer of maps and prints. He did well. He acquired this house. I was born here. Then when I married Joseph Billington he came to live here and I inherited the house and the business and everything when my father died. It was Billingtons from then onwards."

"It is so extraordinary," I said. "I feel quite shocked."

"Well, I suppose if we could go back far enough we would find we were all connected with each other. Think what the population was in the old days and what it is now. We must all have relations we have never even heard of. You'd heard of my father then, in your family?"

"Y-yes. I knew that there had been this marriage and Frederick

Gilmour lived in our Manor House for some time. I don't know what happened later, where he went or whether his mother stayed there. I know nothing... except that he was there."

"Well, it seems there was a family connection between them. Look. You see I have worked him in. There is Lois... but I don't know anything about Lois' first husband, my father's father. I didn't put the second marriage in because I didn't think it had any relevance. There I am branching out from Frederick and Ann Grey, my mother. Then I married Thomas Billington and that is the real start."

I looked at the fine stitches and all the time words from the journal seemed to echo in my ears and dance before my eyes. "You brought our little bastard in ... That was a neat little job."

I could tell old Mrs. Billington who her grandfather was; but she was so absorbed in her family tree, telling me stories of this one and that, that she did not notice my inattention.

When I left her I went to my room.

I thought: There is a connection between our families then. Raymond's great-great-grandmother was the wife of a Mallory.

I did not want to speak of it. How could I without explaining that I had found Ann Alice's diary. I could not tell Raymond about that. I could not say to him: Your great-great-grandfather was a criminal, a murderer, and so was your great-great-grandmother. How could I? Such things are best forgotten. If we start probing into the lives of our ancestors who knows what we should uncover. Oh indeed yes. Some things are best kept secret.

I did not mention the matter to anyone.

We were to leave the day after tomorrow. Mrs. Billington said that we should just have a family party for the last night. She felt we should all prefer it that way. I knew they were all waiting for an announcement. There was an expectancy throughout the house.

Raymond and I went off for one of our rides. He was a little more silent than usual.

We stopped at an inn for the usual glass of cider and while we were drinking it in the inn parlour he asked me to marry him.

I looked at his kindly face across the table and it seemed to me that there was a shadow behind him. I had visualized Desmond Featherstone so vividly from Ann Alice's journal that I had a clear picture of him in my mind; and as I sat there it seemed to me that I saw the evil face of Desmond Featherstone hovering over Raymond.

I felt a revulsion. I had lived with Ann Alice through that night when I had read her journal. I had felt I was there with her. Even now, when it grew dark, I imagined the presence of Desmond Featherstone

in our house—and the more shadowy one of Lois. And the blood of these two was in Raymond; he had developed from their seed.

It was foolish, of course. Are we responsible for our ancestors? How far can any of us look back? But I could not help it. It was there.

Perhaps if I had been truly in love with him I should not have felt this. I should have laughed at it and asked myself what the past had to do with the present. Why should one person be responsible for the faults of another? To visit the sins of the fathers on the children had always seemed to me a most unfair doctrine.

And yet... because of that I could not promise to marry him ... not yet anyway. Perhaps later my common sense would prevail.

Now I hesitated.

"What is it?" he asked gently.

"I'm not sure," I replied. "Marriage is such a big undertaking. It's for life. I feel that we have known each other such a short time."

"Don't you think we know all we need to know? We're happy together, aren't we? Our families like each other."

"That is true," I answered. "But there is more to it than that."

"You mean you don't love me."

"I am very fond of you. I enjoy being with you. I have found everything here so—comforting and stimulating, but I am still not sure."

"I've rushed you into this."

"Perhaps."

"You want more time to think."

"Yes, I believe that is what I want."

He smiled gently. "I understand. We shall meet often. I shall come to you and you will come here. It is just that you feel you need more time."

It was more than that. If he had asked me a few days before I believe I should have said Yes. It was that revelation in the grandmother's room which had shaken me. I wanted to explain to him. But I could not tell him Ann Alice's story—and even if I did, it would not seem logical to allow the past to impinge on the present to such an extent.

I could not understand myself. I believe that when I was reading that journal I identified myself with Ann Alice; and I could not get out of my mind that this young man—pleasant as he seemed—was the result of a union between two murderers.

I would get over it. I did not want to lose Raymond's friendship. I liked his company. With him I had spent the happiest days I had known since Philip had gone. I was foolish to turn away from what could be great happiness.

I should let common sense prevail in time, but just at present I could not say a word.

There was disappointment in the house. I sensed it. And for that reason I was rather glad that we were leaving on the following day.

Granny M came into my room after we had retired that night.

I was brushing my hair when she came and going over the events of the day in my mind. I could hear the chatter at dinner, see the smiles, feel the expectancy.

Dinner over and there was no announcement—only talk of our departure next day. It was an anticlimax.

Granny M seated herself in a chair and characteristically came to the point.

"I thought Raymond was going to ask you to marry him."

"He did."

"And you refused!"

"Well, not exactly. I couldn't say Yes. I wonder if I ever shall."

"My dear girl, you must be crazy."

I shook my head. "I have really ... asked for time."

"Time! You're not a child any more."

"Dear Granny, I am well aware of encroaching age."

"Don't talk nonsense. Tell me what happened."

"He asked me and I just said I couldn't. Granny, I want to tell you something. It's the journal."

"The journal! You mean Ann Alice's?"

"Yes. I have made a most extraordinary discovery. The grandmother was telling me about the family. She was a Miss Gilmour, and she married a Billington. That was when the family name changed."

"A Miss Gilmour!"

"You remember Lois Gilmour in the journal. She was Raymond's grandmother's grandmother. Her father was Freddy ... the boy Lois Gilmour brought into the Manor."

"I can't believe it."

"It seemed an extraordinary coincidence at first. But when you think of it, you realize how easily it could have happened. Freddy was always interested in Mallory maps, wasn't he? Ann Alice mentioned it. He must have gone into the profession when he grew up. I daresay he was brought up away from the Mallorys. I have come to the conclusion that that must have been how it happened. Charles Mallory came back. He wasn't drowned after all. He must have settled in the Manor and taken over. What happened to Lois? We don't know. Perhaps she left when Charles came home. I wonder whether Freddy

remained. In any case he became a cartographer, which was natural as he had seen so much of it during his childhood."

"And we have met... like this!"

"Well, that again is understandable. When you consider, you can see it has come about quite naturally. We are all in the same business. People come from all over the country to attend conferences. I daresay most of the leading cartographers in the country and elsewhere are present. It is not so surprising that we met. When you look at it like that it is not so much of a coincidence."

"No," said Granny slowly. "But all that happened long ago."

"I know, but ... I have a strange feeling about Ann Alice. I have ... ever since I discovered her grave. You see, I was the one destined to find it. I was the one to see the journal first. I sometimes feel that I am part of her, that she and I are one."

"I never heard such nonsense," said Granny M. "But I see what you mean about the gathering of map makers and how it is perfectly natural that as we attend these meetings we encounter people of our profession. Well, so you think Raymond has descended from that Lois Gilmour..."

"There isn't a doubt of it. It's all there. The family, the timing, and the fact that Lois Gilmour became Mrs. Mallory."

"What did you tell the grandmother?"

"That we were the Mallorys and Lois Gilmour's second marriage was to an ancestor of ours. I did not say that there was no first husband and that Freddy's father was a murderer."

"All this doesn't make Raymond our flesh and blood."

"Of course not. But the connection is there and Desmond Featherstone ... that monster... was his ancestor."

"Did you mention what was in the journal?"

"No, indeed I did not."

"Don't. I daresay if we looked back into our histories we'd find rogues and scoundrels. And it is better not to know about them. That Featherstone was a most unpleasant villain—unless Ann Alice was romancing. How do we know that she didn't invent the whole thing?"

"But she died ... that night. The room was walled up. I know she was telling the truth. She was writing down what she saw... and heard. That comes through very clearly. It is nonsense to suggest she was making it up."

"All right. It wouldn't be very pleasant to be confronted by the fact that your great-great-grandparents were murderers. I should say nothing to anyone about what you have read in the journal. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the present time."

"I know that's so, but I can't help thinking of that man Desmond Featherstone. When I look at Raymond, I see him. That is why I could not say I would marry him. I can't forget that those two were Raymond's great-great-grandparents."

Granny shook her head. "It's the shock," she said. "That's what it is. It was all so unexpected ... discovering that. You'll get over it. It's disappointing to us all, but it will do no harm to wait awhile. You'll see what's right in time." She kissed me. "I'm glad you told me. Get a good night's sleep. We'll be off early in the morning."

But I could not sleep. I was haunted by strange, wild dreams. I was in that room... the room which had been shut for nearly a hundred years. My door was locked. There was an enormous key in the door. I heard footsteps on the stairs. Someone was trying the door. I kept my eyes on the key. The door was fast shut. But there was a loud noise and the door burst open. A man was coming in. It was Raymond. I cried out in joy and held out my arms to him, but as he came towards me, his face changed. It was the face of Desmond Featherstone. I screamed as he came close.

And my scream awakened me.

I stared into the darkness.

If I married him I should have dreams like that. I should be looking for that evil man in my husband.

I was afraid to sleep in case the dream came back. However, I dozed and when I awoke it was to find the maid in my room with hot water.

It was time to get up.

How different everything was by daylight! I remembered where I was and that this happy visit had come to an end. The thought saddened me. It ought to have been so different.

I was going to miss Raymond very much.

I had been foolish, I thought. In time I would see everything differently. Then all would be well, and I should banish my foolish imaginings forever.