The Landower Legacy

A VISIT TO LONDON

I was finding the company of Cousin Mary more and more comforting. She was discerning enough to realize that I was far from serene and happy, and I believe she attributed this to Jeremy’s treatment of me, and yet at the same time she was aware of an uneasiness in the relationship between myself and Paul Landower. She was too wise to attempt to probe obviously, and I knew she was trying to make life easy for me. To have been rejected as I had been was understandably a great shock to one’s amour propre and naturally would colour one’s relationships with every other man who crossed one’s path for some time to come.

She believed in healing me by turning my thoughts in another direction and that was the management of the estate. She was right up to a point, for I found myself becoming absorbed in these affairs. I would sit with her and the manager, Jim Burrows, over the accounts; schemes would be discussed in my presence. I said little but I listened avidly; and I really did find myself forgetting everything but the matter in hand for long periods at a time.

There was a certain amount of entertaining.

Cousin Mary said: “I never gave myself up to it entirely. In fact I avoided it whenever I could, but since the Landowers have plunged into such activity with the coming of the new mistress of the house, entertainment in the neighbourhood has become more frequent.”

It was not a large community although now and then squires from some way off visited Landower and there were house parties. We were never house guests, being so close, but we were invited to these gatherings. Gwennie revelled in them; she was, as she said, bringing Landower back to what it had missed for so long. I believed Paul disliked these occasions but Jago was amused by them.

Cousin Mary said: “She tries too hard to be a Landower, that’s Gwennie’s trouble. She doesn’t realize that the very essence of what she is trying to achieve is a certain nonchalance. She quite misses the point. She tries to call attention to the fact that she is of noble birth, when the true aristocrat automatically assumes that there is no doubt of it. Poor Gwennie, I wonder if she will ever learn.”

Cousin Mary gave small dinner parties—repaying hospitality, she called it. “We didn’t have to bother until Gwennie’s day,” she complained.

Doctor Ingleton and his wife with their middle-aged unmarried daughter were visitors; so were the vicar, his wife and sister-in-law; the solicitor who lived in Liskeard and one of the directors of the bank were others—with their families, of course.

I was being caught up in the community.

“It is as well you get to know all these people as well as those on the estate,” said Cousin Mary.

Each day she implied that Cornwall was to be my permanent home; and each day I wondered what I should do.

I avoided Paul and I believe he avoided me. I think we were both aware that there was a great attraction between us, and it must never be allowed to flourish. It was like a banked-up fire at the moment-smouldering. Instinctively I knew—and I fancied he did too—that it could flare up suddenly.

Relations with Jago were easier to handle. I met him often. He had a way of appearing when I rode out alone—and then of course he was always present at the gatherings.

I couldn’t help enjoying his company. He was amusing, light-hearted, and all the time he kept up a bantering kind of flirtation which we both enjoyed.

I had the impression that he was not all that intent on seduction but would welcome it if it came. Jago had too many strings to his bow. He was the kind of man to whom sexual adventure was as natural as breathing. He was successful in his amorous adventures because of those striking good looks which together with his laughter-loving nature were irresistible to many.

He did not exactly pursue anyone, I was sure. Conquest came too easily, so there was no challenge. I reckoned I was one of the few who resisted him; in some cases that might have aroused a determination to succeed with me. Not so with Jago. He was all for ease and comfort. There was no need for him to attempt difficult tasks. All around him was easy success.

I was glad of this and amused by it. I had to admit that being in Jago’s company did cheer me quite a bit. His attitude to life, I told him, was that of a butterfly, flitting from blossom to blossom, dancing in the sunlight, with no thought of the future. He retorted that he would never have believed butterflies had an attitude to life if I hadn’t told him.

I used to remonstrate with him in a light-hearted way. “Remember what happened to the grasshopper?” I asked him once.

“I never was attracted by grasshoppers in general and am quite unaware of the fate of this particular one, which I presume by the tone of your voice was tragic, and a lesson to us all.”

“Jago, you must know the Fontaine fable.”

“I don’t even know Fontaine.”

“Of course you know it. Everyone does. The grasshopper sang and danced all through the summer and had nothing stored for the winter. He then tried to borrow from the ant. ‘What did you do in summer?’ asked the ant. ‘Danced and sang very happily,’ he replied. ‘Well, dance now,’ said the ant.”

“I fail to see the analogy. Who is this ant? I realize you have cast me in the role of grasshopper.”

“When you get old and grey …”

“Perish the day! I shall never be old. It is not in my nature. I shall tint my locks if necessary. But I shall never be old or grey.”

“You’ll have to settle down one day.”

“What do you mean by settle?”

“Live seriously.”

“I am very serious. I am determined to enjoy living. I am completely serious about that.”

It was impossible to talk gravely to him about anything. It suited my mood, and being with him always raised my spirits.

The weeks began to speed past.

I thought a great deal about Olivia. I had long conversations with Cousin Mary about her.

“It’s always an anxious time having a baby,” I said. “And I feel there is a kind of plea in her letters. I feel I ought to be there with her.”

“Well, if you feel like that you should go.”

“I can’t make up my mind. I should hate it in a way. I don’t want to see Jeremy Brandon again.”

“That’s understandable. Perhaps it is better for you not to go. You don’t know what Olivia will be feeling.”

“She would understand, I think.”

“You’ll go for the christening?”

“Yes, I’ll have to go for that. Then I shall know that she is all right.”

The days passed and anxiously I waited for news.

It came at the end of July, a letter from Olivia herself, written in a rather shaky hand, but there was no mistaking her joy.

“Dear Caroline,

“It is all over now. I am the happiest woman in the world. I have my baby. A little girl. Just what I wanted. Jeremy is delighted. He’s forgotten all about wanting a boy. She’s perfect in every way … the most beautiful little girl that ever was.

“I have decided on the name. Jeremy wanted to call her after me, but I said it would be difficult with two Olivias. So we’ve compromised. She’s to be Livia. And of course she must be named after her important godmother, Livia Caroline. What do you think of that?

“I did not know there could be so much happiness in the world. I long to see you and show you my treasure. The christening is going to be at the end of September.

“Oh, Caroline, I do so look forward to seeing you.

“With my constant love.

“Your sister, Olivia.”

I was relieved that she had come through the ordeal safely. She had always seemed fragile to me. I thought a great deal about Olivia and her baby. I wanted very much to see her and the child. I wondered what it would be like meeting Jeremy again. I was sure he would be discreet. Perhaps I need not see much of him.

I called on Miss Gentle, who lived in one of the cottages on the Landower estate and who sewed for the two houses. She made some beautiful baby garments for me to take to London with me when I went, and for the weeks that followed my thoughts were completely occupied with what was to me a strange mixture of pleasure and apprehension.

I made my preparations, growing more and more uneasy as time passed and wondering what I should say if I came face to face with Jeremy. I would try to appear indifferent, but I wondered if my anger towards him would allow me to do so.

On the morning of the twenty-eighth, Joe drove me to the station in the trap and Cousin Mary came with me. She saw me into a first-class compartment, kissed me briskly and told me not to stay too long.

“I shall soon be back,” I promised.

She stood on the platform waving as the train moved out.

I settled down. Always on this journey I would remember that one when I had sat opposite Miss Bell and had had my first sight of Paul Landower and Jago, who had come to play such a big part in my life.

I watched the scenery slipping past and was glad that I had a compartment to myself.

I was thinking how much the trains had changed since that first journey. Corridors had just come in and it was a great convenience to be able to walk from one compartment to another in certain sections of the train; there were now hot pipes running under the floor to take the place of footwarmers, which had been in use at the time when I had travelled with Miss Bell. So much change everywhere in such a short time. I was looking out of the window when I heard the door leading to the corridor open. I turned sharply. A man had opened the door and was standing there. I stared disbelievingly.

“Good day, Madam,” he said. “Would you have any objection to my sharing this compartment with you.” “Jago! What are you doing here?”

He laughed. He looked exactly like the boy who had suggested we play ghosts to frighten prospective buyers away from Landower. “I’m going to London,” he said, sitting down opposite me. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, I thought I’d make the most of the opportunity.” “Jago, you really mean …”

“I mean that I wanted to go to London. It is such a bore travelling on one’s own. How much wiser to find a pleasant companion.” “Why didn’t you say you were going to London?” “I thought I would give you a nice surprise. I love surprising people … and particularly you, Caroline. You’re so worldly nowadays, so knowledgeable, so learned that it is wonderful to present you with something you hadn’t thought of first.”

“You must have got on the train at the same time as I did. I didn’t see you.”

“I was holding aloof while you made your fond farewells, and then … when you weren’t looking, I slipped on … and at the earliest possible moment I decided not to keep your pleasant surprise from you any longer. So here I am. Your travelling companion. Are you pleased?”

“You are so ridiculous,” I said.

“Yes. Isn’t that charming? I have a delicious luncheon basket.”

“Where?”

“In the compartment where I have my seat. I am going to transfer it to here. I will leave you for a few moments.”

I found myself laughing. I felt better already.

In a short time he was back with the basket.

“I told them to make it a deux.”

“So you planned all this.”

“Every operation needs careful planning if it is to achieve the maximum success.”

“I still can’t see why you couldn’t have told me.”

“Don’t you think there might have been objections? A lady of your renowned virtue travelling to London with a man of slightly less moral rectitude?”

“There might have been.”

“Well now, no one knows.”

“I suppose they know you are going to London.”

“Oh no. I’m a diplomat at heart. They think I am going to Plymouth.”

“Why the subterfuge?”

“Because I could not think of a reason to tell them I was going to London. Of course, I have a perfectly good reason.”

“I can’t think why you involve yourself in all that subterfuge just to be in London when I’m there. I shan’t see you. I shall be with my sister.”

“I shall call … as a friend of the family.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“Yes, but you know you like that.”

I began to laugh and we were laughing together.

“That’s better,” he said. “Now you look like the young Caroline. You’ve acquired a touch of asperity in later life. Is it due to the laggard lover?”

“What do you know about that?”

“What everyone knows. You didn’t think you could keep such a piece of life in the raw from being circulated in Lancarron, did you? You couldn’t have a better messenger service than that which is run by our servants. They listen at doors; they store their news; they impart it to their fellow minions—and it gets around to us in time. I can tell you they know that I am the neighbourhood’s Don Juan, Apollo, Lothario, whichever you care to name. This means that I have a greater appreciation of your sex than most men—and of course the feeling is reciprocated. They know that you had an unfortunate love affair and they say you came down here to get over it. They know that Paul married poor Gwennie to get the house and he has regretted it ever since. It is no use imagining your life is a closed book. By no means. It’s wide open and printed in large letters and lavishly illustrated so that all may look and learn.”

“So none of us is safe.”

“Alas none! The only defence we have against this very efficient detective agency is not to care. After all, they doubtless have their secrets. They have their amours, jiltings, mesalliances. It makes us all human—all the same under our skins—the rich man in his castle, the poor man at the gate. That’s what they like to see. Who wants to be other than human? I think it’s a very pleasant state to be in. Better a human being than say … a butterfly or a grasshopper—though there are some of us who resemble these feckless insects.”

I was laughing again.

“That’s better,” he said. “Now tell me what are we going to do when you reach London?”

“I know what I am going to do. I am going to say goodbye to you and go to my sister. I shall be with her all the time. I have my duties to perform as godmother.”

“You’ll be a real fairy godmother, I don’t doubt.”

“I shall try to do my duty by the child.”

“I’ve no doubt of that. I only hope you don’t get too enamoured of her and London life that you decide to desert us. I don’t want to have to make constant trips to London.”

“That might be a little awkward as you are supposed to be in Plymouth now. Where will you stay?”

“I know of a hotel close to your sister’s residence. You see, I have made my plans. I have stayed there on other occasions and shall go there again.”

“You know I can’t see you when I’m in London.”

He grinned at me. “I believe your sister is a charming young lady. I look forward to meeting her.”

“You will stand no chances with her!”

“Chances? What an idea! Are you suggesting that I might attempt to lure a virtuous matron from her hearth?”

“I think you would seduce any woman if you had the chance.”

“If she has a heart as cold as her sister’s I shall not have a chance.”

“She has a warm heart but that warmth will not be for you.”

“Then I shall have to confine my efforts to melting the icicles which encase that of the beauteous Caroline.”

“You are wasting your time. They will never melt for you.”

“Is that an admission that they might melt for another?”

“I doubt they ever will.”

“I wouldn’t take a bet on that.”

“We know you are only interested in high stakes so let’s forget my icebound heart, shall we?”

“Agreed. Look. Here’s Mr. Brunei’s bridge. Plymouth already. No one must come in here. Let’s make it appear that the carriage is full.”

He put his bag on one seat and the basket containing the food on the other. He stood by the window.

“I wish they would not stay so long in these stations,” he said.

Someone was at the door, looking in. It was a man and a woman.

“I’m afraid,” said Jago, with a charming smile, “there is no room in this compartment.” He indicated the things lying on the seats.

The woman nodded and they passed on.

It was only when the train started to glide out of the station that he resumed his seat.

“I didn’t think you were going to manage it,” I said.

“My dear Caroline, I always manage everything I set my heart on. Didn’t you know?”

“Not all things.”

“Oh, what do you mean?”

“Well, one thing I remember. You were going to drive buyers away from Landower and all you succeeded in doing was finding one.”

“My one failure. But it brought Landower back to us, didn’t it? And that was what I was trying to do. God works in a mysterious way.”

“Jago also, I should have thought.”

“Poor Paul. I’m afraid he wishes it had never happened.”

“I can’t believe that. The most important thing was to keep the house in the family and he did that.”

“But what a price!”

“You can’t have things in life without paying for them.”

“He certainly paid. Do you know, sometimes I think he hates her.”

“He should be grateful to her.”

“Well … in a way, yes. It is a pity he has to pay for the rest of his life.”

“He entered into the bargain. I can’t bear people who make agreements and then resent having to carry them out.”

“Don’t be hard on him. He’s doing his best. He’s there, isn’t he? He married her. He’s a good sort really. A little melancholy. Who wouldn’t be, married to Gwennie? He was only in his teens when he had the whole weight of the family debts thrust on him. He had to learn to take over from our father at an early age. What an inheritance! You can’t blame Paul. He did his best.”

I said: “It’s his affair.”

“Alas, my poor brother.”

“I’m sure he can take care of himself.”

“Sometimes those of us who seem the strongest are the most vulnerable. He has a conscience, poor Paul!”

“You speak as though that’s a pity.”

“Well, isn’t it? Consciences can be a veritable plague. They rise up when one least wants them to. They torment and worry and really make life tiresome.”

“Am I to understand that you are not blessed … I mean cursed … by such an encumbrance?”

“Shall we say I put it to sleep long ago?”

“So now it permits you to behave outrageously while it slumbers on?”

“It’s the best action to take against all consciences.”

“What a world it would be if everyone was like you!”

He stretched out his legs before him and laughed at me. “What a world! Peopled by charming, insouciant, handsome, merry fellows like me, who go about having a good time and making sure that others do the same.”

“Utopia, no less,” I said.

“You should join me in it.”

I turned to look out of the window. “I think the Devon scenery is beautiful,” I said.

I could not be sad sitting opposite him. He opened the basket and disclosed dainty sandwiches with ham and chicken and a bottle of sparkling white wine. My own luncheon was equally appetising.

“There is enough here for two,” he said.

“I think I have more than I need.”

“It’s fun, is it not, picnicking in the train, listening to the rhythm of the wheels. What are they saying? ‘Caroline. Caroline, Caroline, don’t stay away, Caroline. Jago needs you. Jago needs you.’ “

“You could fit in anything you wanted to.”

“One hears what one wants to hear. That is what is so pleasant about it …”

He insisted that I share his wine and he poured it into the glasses he had brought with him in the basket.

“To us. Caroline and Jago.”

“To us.”

“Should have been chilled,” he said.

“Rather difficult on a train. It tastes good to me.”

“They say that hunger seasons all dishes. I would say the company, wouldn’t you?”

“I think that has a great deal to do with it.”

The train was speeding on. The journey was half over. I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I knew he was watching me all the time.

When I opened my eyes he was smiling at me.

“How long will you stay?” he asked.

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“On many things.”

“You’re uneasy, I sense.”

“Well … perhaps.”

“You’ll have to see the false lover who is the husband of your sister. That could be quite an ordeal.”

“I know.”

“If you want any help, you know there is a stout arm waiting to defend you.”

“I don’t think I shall need defending. He is mild-mannered. He will be perfectly polite, I am sure. And I shall be cold and indifferent. I’ll get by.”

“You’ll be that all right,” he said with a grin. “But you mustn’t let yourself get hurt.”

“As if I would.”

“Well, we all have our weak spots.”

“Even you?”

“I was talking about ordinary mortals. Life goes on no matter what happens.”

“A profound statement,” I said with irony.

“And very true. Take the Princess Mary, who has recently lost her lover.”

He was referring to the death of the Duke of Clarence, eldest son of the Prince of Wales, who had died of pneumonia at the beginning of the year, soon after his engagement to Mary of Teck was announced.

“Consider,” he went on, “she lost Eddy and now it is said she will take George.” He raised his eyebrows almost piously. “Of course it is a true love match, and it was George she loved all the time. That’s what we’ll hear.”

I nodded.

“Very wise, you must admit. Forget what you’ve lost and discover that what is left is exactly what you wanted.”

“An excellent philosophy.”

“Do you know this is the shortest journey I have ever undertaken?”

“What nonsense! We’re miles on from Plymouth, which is your usual destination.”

“It is because I don’t want it to end. I want to catch the golden minutes and imprison them forever.”

“The poetic mood doesn’t really suit you, Jago.”

“Not much in my line, is it? What I will say in blunt everyday prose is, It is fun to be with you.” He leaned forward and gripped my arm. “And that is how you feel about me.”

I smiled at him. “Yes, Jago, I admit it. It is fun to be with you.”

“Triumph! The first step is taken. Now I shall make rapid strides.”

“In what direction?”

“Surely you know.”

“I can’t guess.”

He laughed and leaned towards me but I held him off.

“If you mean you are proposing to take your usual course of action, I think you should step back. We don’t want to spoil this pleasant tete-a-tete do we?”

“You’re right,” he said, “I will continue to woo you with words.”

“Words don’t hurt anyone.”

“Nonsense! Words can be more effective than blows. The pen is mightier than the sword and all that.”

“Perhaps you’re right. But words can’t take the place of deeds, can they, and as long as you remember that …”

“You are prepared to go on listening to my honeyed tones.”

“At the moment I don’t appear to have much choice.”

And so we continued in this bantering way until we came to London.

Jago took charge of the situation and we were soon driving along to the house which had been my home for so long.

I alighted at the door. Jago rang the door bell and a parlourmaid whom I did not know opened the door.

She cried: “It is Miss Caroline, isn’t it? Do come in.”

Jago took my hand, bowed and departed, and I was taken in to Olivia.

We embraced. Both of us were in a highly emotional state.

“Oh, Caroline … at last. This is wonderful.”

“My dear Olivia! And how well you look!”

“A little plump, eh?”

“A little, but becomingly so. Where is my goddaughter?”

“I knew you’d want to see her first.”

“May I?”

“Before anything? Before you go to your room? You must be tired out. Did you have a good journey?”

“Oh yes … very good. I travelled with someone from Lancarron.”

“Oh … who?”

I had forgotten that I had written to her very fully about the place.

“Jago Landower.”

“Oh really! Where is he?”

“He’s gone to an hotel.”

“I hope I’ll meet him.”

“I expect he’ll make certain that he meets you.”

“Oh, Caroline … isn’t it good to be together! And how are you? You look different … thinner.”

“The opposite of you.”

“Well, it’s the baby. It makes you put on weight.”

“Well … what about this baby?”

“Come on … I can’t tell you how beautiful she is.”

“You have already … at least twenty times.”

She looked happy. He must be kind to her, I thought. At least he has made her happy …

We went into the nursery and a familiar figure came to greet me.

“Miss Bell!”

“Well, Caroline, I am very pleased to see you.”

“Have you started preparing Livia’s lessons yet?”

“I know exactly how I shall begin … just as soon as she is ready.”

Olivia laughed and said: “Miss Bell can’t wait for Livia to reach the schoolroom stage. Where is Nanny Loman? Oh, here she is. Nanny, this is my sister. You’ve heard of her. She’s just arrived and the first thing she wants to do is see Livia.”

Livia was sleeping in her cradle curtained by thick pale blue silk. She was plump, blue-eyed and fair-haired. I fancied I saw Jeremy in her.

“She’s awake,” said Nanny Loman.

“May I pick her up?” asked Olivia.

For answer Nanny Loman picked up the child and showed her to me. The baby opened her eyes and stared at me. I felt a little thrill of pleasure. I put out a hand and touched the soft cheek. She continued to stare at me. I took her tiny hand and looked with emotion at the tiny fingers tipped with miniature nails. The fingers curled round my hand.

“She’s taken to you, Caroline,” said Olivia.

“She likes being picked up, that’s what,” said Nanny Loman practically.

“Sit down,” said Olivia. I did so and the baby was put into my arms.

I looked up at Olivia. Yes, that was perfect bliss I saw in her face. There was no mistaking it.

Afterwards I went to my room.

“Your old one,” Olivia said. “I thought you’d like that.”

I stood for a moment looking round. “It feels so strange to be back,” I said.

I turned to her and she threw herself into my arms.

“Oh, Caroline, I’ve been so worried about … everything.”

“Is something wrong?”

“For me … it is perfect. But it doesn’t seem right when you had to suffer such … I often think of it. But for that I could be perfectly happy.”

“You must stay perfectly happy, Olivia. That’s what I want. I’m all right. It’s wonderful in Cornwall. I’ll tell you all about it. We’ll have such lovely talks.”

“Oh yes, we will. Caroline, it is so wonderful to have you here.”

Jeremy did not appear that evening.

“He’ll be back late,” Olivia explained. “He has to be out sometimes … on business. You’ll see him tomorrow.”

I was relieved. At least I need not see him just yet. I was not quite sure what effect he was going to have on me; but I was taking a more kindly view of him because he was making Olivia happy.

We sat talking over dinner.

“There’s so much to catch up on,” said Olivia. “Letters are wonderful and yours bring people and places to life. I can see that place in Cornwall. But it isn’t quite the same as talking, is it?”

“No. And it is wonderful to be together.”

“We mustn’t be apart so long again.”

“No. It was so difficult for us to get to each other. And then there was all that time when I was with our mother.”

“Oh yes. Wasn’t it wonderful about her finding that man … Alphonse.”

“She is still very beautiful. He was so proud of her.”

“We used to think she wasn’t quite real, do you remember? When she used to come into the nursery … to see us .. .”

“To show herself to us,” I corrected.

Olivia did not notice the caustic tone of my voice. I reflected that I had grown bitter while Olivia was still the same simple, good person, endowing everyone with her own qualities. What did she know of the world? Perhaps it was better not to know, to go on in blissful ignorance, seeing everything through the proverbial rose-coloured glasses. Perhaps if you saw it that way, it was the way it became for you.

“Miss Bell hasn’t changed,” I said.

“Well, she was worried for a time. She thought she would have to go. Then she stayed on. I said I wanted her to help me and you know that Aunt Imogen approves of her.”

“Oh, is Aunt Imogen still in charge?”

“Not really … now I’m married. She is very fond of Jeremy. She was so pleased when we married. But she still, as she says, keeps an eye on me. Jeremy laughs at it, but they get on very well together.”

“So Miss Bell is now in her element.”

“She was so good to us.”

“Good for us, perhaps. She certainly kept me in order. You were always the perfect pupil, Olivia.”

“Oh no. You were the clever one. That’s what pupils should be if they are to be a credit to their teachers.”

“They should be well mannered, docile … and good … and those were the things you were.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I would never laugh at you, dear Olivia. I laugh with you.”

“I see there is a difference. Oh … I must tell you. Do you remember Rosie Rundall … or Rosie Russell as she now is?”

“Yes, indeed I do.”

“She’s become a rich woman. She runs a modiste’s establishment. She wrote to me asking for my patronage, so of course I went along. She is just the same … the Rosie we knew, but she is very important now. She sits in a sort of salon at the back of the shop … No, I mustn’t call it a shop … It’s an establishment. She sells the most fantastic hats to the wealthy. A hat has to be a “Rose” hat nowadays. At the races … garden parties … everywhere … there are Rosie’s hats.”

“I am so glad. She was very helpful to us, wasn’t she?”

“Oh yes. Except on that one occasion. Do you remember when she was going to open the door to let you in? When you were Cleopatra.

“I remember.” I was thinking of the first time I had met Jeremy. Rupert of the Rhine … the excitement … it was all coming back. There were too many memories in this house. Olivia was remembering too.

“She left suddenly,” said Olivia. “She had to go away … some business or other. She had to leave at once and there was no time to explain. Well, I can tell you she is a very important lady now. I believe she has more than one of these … er … establishments.”

“She is a very clever woman. Did she marry?”

“No. At least not as far as I know. You must go and see her while you’re here. I was there just before Livia was born and I told her you would be coming for the christening. She was very interested and said she hoped she would be able to see you.”

“I shall certainly go along to see Rosie.”

“We’ll arrange it.”

We went on talking. I wished I did not feel so disturbed but now I was bracing myself for the encounter with Jeremy which must surely come soon.

I did not sleep very well that night. Too many memories were crowding into my mind. How could it be otherwise in this house where so much had happened? I thought of Jago, who would doubtless be sleeping peacefully in his hotel bedroom, of Olivia in her cocoon of happiness which shut out the unpleasantness of the world. I wondered about Jeremy and what he was feeling about meeting me again; and dominating my thoughts, which was not an unusual state for me to be in, was Paul. What was it like for him to be with Gwennie, to try to make a normal marriage out of what I believed for him was a travesty of one?

As we make our beds so must we lie on them. Olivia had made a cosy feather-bed for herself, Paul one of nails.

Mine was not yet complete. Which would it be?

Olivia came into my bedroom while I was dressing.

“I couldn’t wait for you to come down. Did you sleep well? It’s just as it used to be. Breakfast from eight till nine. You help yourself from the dishes on the sideboard. Remember?”

“Yes, except that for most of my time we were eating in the nursery.”

“Jeremy came in late last night. After you’d retired. He asked a lot about you. I told him how well you are and how much you were liking Cornwall. He was so pleased.”

“Very good of him,” I said, and once again my irony was lost on Olivia.

“He does care about you a lot, Caroline. He was ever so upset. I think of it sometimes. You see, if it had worked out for you … which is perhaps what it should have done …”

“What nonsense! It worked out in the best possible way it could. From my point of view it was all for the best.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“I do indeed.”

“I’m so glad. I have worried quite a lot.”

I touched her brow. “I don’t like to see wrinkles there. You must be happy. You’ve got exactly what you need. All this … and Livia too.”

“But I do want you to be happy. Is there … anyone?”

“The trouble with all you married women is that you want everyone else to be in the same plight.”

“Not plight, Caroline. Happy state.”

“If that’s how you feel, I’m delighted. You will have to watch over Livia because I’m rather taken with her, and I might decide to carry her back to Cornwall with me … snatch her away when you’re not looking.”

“Oh, Caroline, I’m so pleased you like her!”

We went into breakfast together and when we were about to leave the table, Jeremy appeared.

He seemed to be quite at ease and I tried to look the same, but I felt anger surging up within me. I wished I could forget that night at the ball, all our meetings … and then that cruel letter.

He was svelte.

“You look well, Jeremy,” I said. “All this …” I waved my hand. “It suits you.”

“We’re happy, aren’t we, Olivia?” he said.

She smiled at him. I guessed her feelings were too strong for words and I thought: She is far too good for him. And yet she loves him and he has made her happy. I must grant him that.

“Olivia was determined that you should be a godparent,” he said.

“You know you wanted Caroline for that too.”

“I knew Caroline would be the perfect godmother.”

“How nice of you to have such a high opinion of me.”

“I hope you are going to stay with us for some time and not run away as soon as you have come.”

I thought, I can’t stay long here. I shall be saying something bitter to him. I shall be telling him what I think of him. I must get away as soon as I can.

“I’m learning about the management of the estate in Cornwall,” I said. “It is so interesting. I mustn’t stay away too long.”

“We shall have to insist that she comes back soon, Jeremy.”

“We shall indeed, my dear.”

“She adores Livia already.”

“Who wouldn’t adore Livia?” I said. “Livia is adorable and there is no more to say.”

We talked for a little while and Jeremy, who clearly felt the strain as much as I did, said he must be off. He had business to attend to.

When he had gone, Olivia asked what I would like to do and I said I should like to go and see Rosie.

“But of course.”

“I shan’t want to buy one of her hats. I can’t think what use I would have for one of her fashionable creations in Lancarron.”

“Rosie wouldn’t expect you to buy a hat. She’d just be delighted to see you. But as a matter of fact I wanted to give you a hat … for the christening. A present. You know how you always liked surprise presents.”

“Oh, Olivia … no!”

“Oh, please yes. Why shouldn’t I give you a present. I want to.”

“I know,” I said, “it is such a fashionable occasion that what I have simply wouldn’t fit.”

“What does that matter? Please, Caroline, it would please me so much.”

There was a knock on the door and a maid entered. She announced that a gentleman was here and asking for Miss Tressidor.

I knew who it was before he was brought in.

“This is Mr. Jago Landower,” I told Olivia.

“And this is the divine Olivia. I have heard so much about you.”

“I’ve heard of you, too,” said Olivia.

“I hope your sister did not malign me.”

“I think I gave a fairly true picture,” I said.

“Oh did you? That causes me some considerable alarm.”

Olivia laughed. She clearly liked his handsome looks and merry manner.

“She made you sound most attractive,” she said.

“And kept quiet about my misdemeanours. Caroline, I have misjudged you.”

“You mustn’t take too much notice of what he says,” I told Olivia. “This is his usual way of talking.”

“I trust it does not displease Mistress Olivia?”

“I like it,” said Olivia.

“And where is the blessed infant?”

“All infants, blessed or otherwise, are in their nurseries at this hour,” I said.

“I was hoping for a glimpse.”

I looked at him in exasperation, knowing that he was not in the least interested in the baby, but trying to win Olivia’s good graces.

“Oh, if you really would like it …” began Olivia.

“If I left this house without seeing this wonder baby I should consider life had cheated me.”

Olivia said: “Come on!” and started to lead the way to the nursery.

“You are ridiculous,” I snapped at him.

“I know,” he whispered back. “But so charming.”

We went into the nursery and he made a good job in feigning an immense interest in the baby. He even held her in his arms and Livia seemed contented that he should do so.

“You see I have her approval,” he said. “She is already aware of my masculine charms.”

Olivia thought he was very amusing.

When we left the nursery I said: “We were going out.”

“Allow me to accompany you.”

“I have ordered the brougham,” said Olivia.

“Then may I join you?”

“There is nothing I should like more,” replied Olivia, “but we are going to pay a visit to a milliner.”

“To get a hat for the ceremony? My help will be invaluable. I’m a connoisseur of ladies’ hats.”

“It’s a hat for Caroline.”

“How interesting!”

“I suppose Rosie makes the hats. There won’t be time before the christening,” I said.

“Oh, Rosie is certain to have something there. She does make specially but she has large stocks and I don’t think you will be very difficult to suit.”

“What fun!” said Jago. “What a delightful way in which to spend a morning.”

“Would you like some refreshment before we go, Mr …”

“Call me Jago, and I am going to call you Olivia. After all, we are not strangers, are we? We have met through our go-between, dear Caroline. I feel I know you so well.”

“It’s lovely to see you,” said Olivia warmly. “I’ve always wanted to meet some of the people Caroline wrote about. You’re almost exactly as I imagined you.”

“But not quite. Better or worse?”

“You’re much more handsome and amusing.”

“Oh, Caroline, you’ve been misrepresenting me, after all.”

“You don’t know him yet, Olivia.”

“She has a sharp tongue, your sister.”

“She always did have that–repartee, isn’t it? I was never clever enough for it.”

” ‘Be good sweet maid and let who will be clever.’ Your sister Caroline brings out the erudition in me … which I must confess is a little sparse.”

“Olivia was asking about refreshments,” I said. “We have just had breakfast.”

“Well, so have I. Let’s set about choosing this hat, shall we? I’m all agog.”

Olivia looked very pretty in her pale blue gown with a hat to match. A little matronly, yes, but how becoming that was! Happiness had changed her, even given her a little of that confidence which she had once lacked to such a large extent. It surprised me that a man like Jeremy could have done that for her. I wondered whether she irritated him as Gwennie did Paul. She was a very different person from Gwennie. There was none of that self-assertion which I believed was anathema to men. My observations told me that men liked to consider themselves supreme. In the short time I had seen Olivia and Jeremy together I realized that she was subservient to him although she had provided him with what he needed for a life of ease. It was different with Gwennie. She never ceased to remind her husband that his residence in the house of his forefathers was only possible because of her good will.

We pulled up before Rosie’s establishment. A man in livery opened the door and ushered us in. A woman in black and white came forward hastily.

“Oh, Mrs. Brandon, Madam, good morning!”

Olivia said: “Good morning, Ethel. We shall be wanting a hat for my sister, Miss Tressidor.”

Ethel clasped her hands and regarded me with ecstasy as though supplying a hat for me was a task which would please her more than anything in the world.

“But first,” said Olivia, “we should like to see Madam Russell herself.”

“Do come in, please,” begged Ethel, “and I will tell Madam. The gentleman will come too?”

“Oh yes, Miss Ethel. He wants to be present,” said Jago, passing a very experienced glance over Ethel’s charms which were considerable. I noticed speculation in his eyes. Ethel was aware of it, too. No doubt she was accustomed to such looks from the men who accompanied their womenfolk into the establishment. She preened a little as we followed her into a small room elegantly furnished. The curtains and carpet were the colour of lapis lazuli and even had streaks of gold in them.

When Ethel had gone I whispered, “Imagine. All this is Rosie’s.”

“Rosie is very clever, obviously,” said Olivia.

“Who is the priestess of this holy temple?” asked Jago.

“She’s Rosie, who has come up in the world.”

Ethel returned and asked us to follow her. We were taken to a room with the same coloured rich furnishings and I noticed that the blue-and-gold motif was repeated throughout the establishment.

A woman rose from a desk as we entered. She was tall, very slim and clad in black; her hair was piled high on her head and that with her high heels gave her elegance and height. But the eyes were as mischievous as ever.

“Why,” she cried, “if it is not Miss Caroline!”

I went to her and hugged her, reacting on impulse.

“Oh, Rosie,” I said, “I hardly recognized you amidst all this splendour.”

“It’s the same old Rosie. Well, not quite the same … a bit older and much wiser. That’s how it should be, eh? And the gentleman?”

“Mr. Jago Landower. He comes from Cornwall.”

He bowed to her.

“It is so good of you to allow me to enter this holy of holies.”

“I like that,” she said. “Holy of holies, eh? I wish I’d thought of that.”

“He thinks he can help me choose a hat,” I said.

“Is this for the christening?” asked Rosie.

I nodded.

“I have the very thing.”

“I knew you would have,” cried Olivia. “Isn’t it wonderful to see her here, Rosie?”

“It’s a great pleasure.”

“What a marvellous establishment you have here,” said Jago. “I wish I wore lovely hats with whirly feathers.”

“You would have to go back a few centuries,” I told him. “I think they’d become you rather well.”

“Of course they would. How boring to be in this age! As far as dress is concerned, I mean.”

“I should hardly think the rest of it is boring for you, Mr. Landower,” said Rosie. “Now I’m sending for champagne. This is a celebration. How long is it since I saw you, Miss Caroline?”

“Quite a long time.”

“And here you are in London for the christening. What a fine baby she is, eh? And you’re going to be the proud godmother.”

“Yes, I’m pleased and honoured by that.”

“Of course I’d want Caroline to be my baby’s godmother,” said Olivia.

The champagne was brought. Rosie asked Jago to pour it out, which he did and brought it round to us all, his eyes bright with pleasure. He was enjoying this.

I whispered to him: “I hope you are finding your trip worth while.”

“Completely,” he answered. “Thank you for letting me come.”

“I didn’t let you. You came uninvited.”

“Nevertheless, I shall be at the christening. I have already asked Olivia for an invitation.”

“Which has been granted?”

“With alacrity.”

Rosie herself presided over the selection of my hat. I was seated before a mirror and several were brought out for me to try on. She wanted to know what my dress would be. It was to be the same one which I had worn for my mother’s wedding and once at Landower. Cream-coloured, I explained, and I had an emerald brooch which my mother had given me.

Rosie decreed that the hat must be emerald green. It really was rather enchanting and everyone agreed that it suited me admirably. There was an ostrich feather—half green, half cream, which shaded my eyes.

“Perfect!” cried Jago.

“Yes,” agreed Rosie. “You are right.”

Rosie wanted to give me the hat as a present, but Olivia insisted on paying for it. When I saw the price I was a little alarmed. I was clearly not rich enough to shop at Rosie’s establishment.

I said I must pay for the hat myself, although I should be impoverished for some time to come; but at last Olivia won the day. She wanted to give me a present, she said, and would be very hurt if I did not accept this hat which was clearly meant for me.

Before we left I had a word with Rosie.

“I’d like to talk to you … sometime,” she said.

“Oh … what about?”

“Something … Could you come alone?”

“Is there something wrong?”

She lifted her shoulders. “I’d like to talk … all the same,” she said enigmatically.

I said I would make sure of seeing her again before I went back to Cornwall.

We went back to the house.

Olivia asked Jago if he would care to stay for luncheon and he accepted with enthusiasm.

Two days later the christening took place. It was a solemn and moving occasion. Naturally Aunt Imogen was present and she was quite affable to me though somewhat aloof. I felt a new responsibility. This little child was my goddaughter.

I was so proud and went out and paid more than I could afford for a silver porringer on which I had her initials engraved.

I spent a good deal of time in the nursery. I think Nanny Loman found me rather a nuisance but she bore with me patiently because no doubt she thought I should not be there long; but Olivia was delighted with my interest in her baby.

“It makes me very happy,” she said. “I feel safer now. If anything happened to me you’d be there to look after Livia.”

“What do you mean … if anything happened to you?”

“Well, if I wasn’t here.”

“But why shouldn’t you be here? You’re not likely to pass over Livia to her doting godmother, are you?”

“I mean if I wasn’t here …”

“If you were to die, you mean?”

“Yes, that.”

“My dear Olivia, look at you! Plump, revelling in married life … with a doting husband and a perfect baby … what are you talking about?”

“I know I’ve got all that … but it just occurred to me.”

“That’s like you, Olivia. You’re always afraid good things won’t last for you. I thought you’d got over that.”

“I have. Life is good. But I was just thinking … that was all. Forget I said it.”

I kissed her.

“It’s done me a lot of good to see you, Olivia. Things have worked out well for you and you deserve all the happiness there is. May you always be as happy as you are now.”

“I’d like you to be happy too, Caroline,” she said wistfully. “Jago is very attractive. I think he likes you.”

“He does … along with the entire female population that is not too old or ill-favoured.”

“You are cynical.”

“It suits me to be.”

“Your time will come.”

I patted her hand. I thought the conversation was drifting towards danger.

I said: “I shall have to think of going fairly soon.”

“Stay,” she begged; and I said I would for a few more days.

I did go to see Rosie. I was determined to do that. Ethel knew me now and I was taken straight to Rosie’s room.

She greeted me warmly. She made me sit down and once more she sent for wine.

She talked a little while before getting down to the reason why she had asked me to come.

She had progressed rapidly since she had seen me, and she had been moderately comfortably off then. She had told me that Robert Tressidor had been obliged to help her to independence, but that was not good enough for Rosie Rundall or Rosie Russell. She had had good friends. They had invested for her. They were men who really knew what they were doing and her capital had increased. She had had a gentleman friend who had advised her and helped to set her up in business.

“No strings for Rosie,” she said. “I wanted everything my way and in time I bought him out. This is my empire now. I’ve another place like this one … or almost. Not quite as grand yet, but that’ll come and I’ve got plans for another. Dresses as well as hats … accessories and things.”

“Rosie, you have genius!”

“Not me. I’ve got loads of common sense though. Oh … and something else … energy. I say to myself, ‘You’re going to do this, Rosie. No matter how hard it is, you’re going to pull it off.’ And then I have to. It’s the way I’ve always worked.”

“I am so pleased for you. Do you ever see any of the people who were in the house when you were a parlourmaid?”

“Oh yes. I keep in touch. That’s how I know what I know. I have other sources though. In the beginning I had to keep a few things dark —just till I got going. Then I thought, To hell with it. I’m myself and that’s what I’m going to be. Where I am nobody’s going to pull me down. Oh yes, I prefer to keep in touch with the people I knew in my less comfortable days. That’s how I get to know what’s what.”

“What do you know?”

She hesitated. “I wondered whether I should talk about this. I’m not sure. I don’t know what can be done about it either.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Rosie?”

“Well, Robert Tressidor must have left Miss Olivia well off.”

“He did. Most of the money went to her.”

“There were charities and things. They got a good share.”

“Yes, they did. But Olivia had the bulk. She is quite rich, of course, and she has the house and the house in the country. She runs a big household … just about the same, I imagine, as when her father was alive.”

“Well, I have friends. They come and see me now and then. I’m the sort who’s been able to keep my friends. I always liked the independent life. Some of those jaunts of mine I used to enjoy but most of them were a matter of business. I don’t need that sort of business now. Sometimes I have a steady gentleman friend … but it doesn’t mean all that much to me. What I was saying I have kept a lot of my friends and that’s how I hear things.”

“It’s not like you to take so long to get to the point, Rosie.”

“I know. I’m just wondering. I don’t want to put a word out of turn. I could be quite wrong. Well, the fact is, that husband of your sister’s … he’s playing the tables pretty recklessly. I heard that he’d got to be pretty rich to keep up that sort of play.”

“Oh … I see,” I said blankly.

“I know what can be lost in some of those clubs in a night. It’s a mug’s game. I couldn’t speak to Miss Olivia about it. I thought you might be the one to mention it.”

“It’s a horrible situation. Jeremy Brandon … gambling her fortune away. What will become of Olivia?”

“I don’t suppose it would get all that bad. She may have money of her own which he can’t touch.”

“He’d get round Olivia. She couldn’t keep anything back from him. I feel rather alarmed.”

“It may be only a rumour.”

“What can / do about it, Rosie?”

“I don’t know. I wondered if you might speak to him.”

“Me! Speak to him! You know what happened between us.”

“He threw you over when he knew there was no money. I reckon he’s a real gambler.”

“I couldn’t bear it if anything went wrong for Olivia. She’s so happy.”

“Well, perhaps it’s one of those storms in a teacup. I just thought I’d put you in the picture.”

“Olivia doesn’t seem to be short of money, does she? I mean … she pays her bills to you?”

“On the dot. I wish there were more like her. I expect I’ve raised something where there isn’t anything. Forget what I said. It was just that it was on my mind. I always had a special soft spot for you and Miss Olivia. See if you can find out whether she’s anxious. She might know … If he’s asked for something … selling out bonds and shares and things. She ought to stand firm. I know a bit about finance myself and how easy it is to come a cropper.”

“I’ll see if I can probe a bit. But I don’t see how I can ask outright.”

“Of course not. Don’t let her know that I’ve put you up to it.”

“I won’t, Rosie. It’s good of you to be so concerned.”

“Money has to be handled with care. There’s some like me who started with none. We make it and have a special reverence for it. But there are others who have to get it somehow and they seem to think it’s just there for throwing away.”

“A pity they’re not all wise like you, Rosie.”

She winked. “I wouldn’t want too many rivals. But having laid my hands on a bit, I’m not letting it go. With men like Jeremy Brandon it’s ‘Easy come easy go.’ Perhaps it’s because he’s so different from me that I’m suspicious of him. He might win it all back one day. There’s good luck around as well as bad and somebody’s got to get it sometime.”

“So it’s the money. I was really rather afraid it might have been another woman.”

Rosie was silent and I looked at her sharply.

“Is there?” I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I know nothing definite. There’s always talk. There is a woman … Flora Carnaby … rather a flashy sort. He’s been seen with her. Nothing serious, I imagine. She’s just there at one of the clubs, working there, I think.”

“Oh dear. Poor Olivia!”

“She wouldn’t have an inkling.”

“People might tell her. You know what they are. All her illusions would be shattered. One of the things which has made all this acceptable to me is Olivia’s belief in the goodness of life and him and everything.”

“She’ll go on believing in it all. It’s common enough, you know. I couldn’t tell you the number of model husbands I’ve come across in the course of my life.”

“It’s horrible. I want none of it. Wise women like you and my Cousin Mary keep out of it. They know what they are doing. They are dignified and independent. Oh dear, I do hope Olivia never finds out..."

“She won’t. I tell you it’s commonplace. She’s not the probing sort and Flora’s not the girl any sensible man would leave home for. Forget it. I’m sorry I told you. I’ve worried you. It was the money that I was concerned about … more than the girl.”

“I feel I want to look after Olivia, protect her.”

“Yes, I know. One feels like that with Olivia. But in the long run it often seems people like her are better able to look after themselves than the rest of us. They are protected by their innocence.”

“Rosie … if anything happens … will you tell me? Will you write to me?”

“Honour bright, I will do that. Now stop fretting. How did you like the hat?”

“Very much.”

“You looked a picture in it, I bet. I expect everyone was saying, ‘Who is the girl with the green eyes?’”

“I think most of them were concentrating on the smaller girl with the blue eyes. It was Livia’s day. There was no doubt of that.”

“That fellow who came with you. Now he was something.”

“You mean Jago Landower.”

“He’d got his eye on you.”

“Among others.”

“One of the rovers. Oh, I saw that. He’d need a firm hand.”

“I’ve no intention of supplying it.”

“Yes, I see he’s too much every woman’s man to be any one’s in particular.”

“You should know. You’re a connoisseur of the sex.”

“Men are like hats. Either they suit you or they don’t.”

“I can hardly believe that any of them would be flattered by the comparison.”

“Remember I have a great respect for hats,” said Rosie. She lifted her glass. “To you, dear Caroline and Olivia. All the very best that life can offer and that’s quite a lot.”

I raised my glass.

“And the very same to you, dear Rosie.”

That evening I found myself alone with Olivia and I said: “I suppose you are very rich, Olivia?”

“I suppose so,” she answered.

“This is a costly household. It is just the same as it was when your father was alive.”

“There are very few changes. I don’t have to worry about money.”

“Does anyone do the worrying for you then?”

“Jeremy, of course.”

“I see,” I said. “And he’s quite happy with the arrangements? I mean … it doesn’t worry him?”

“Not in the least. He understands about money.”

I thought, I know he has a great appreciation for it, but does he know that even a large fortune can be squandered in a short time?

She looked so trusting and contented, how could I arouse suspicions in her mind? Moreover it was only conjecture. How could I say, “Rosie has heard rumours that your husband is losing money at the gaming tables … money you brought to him”? Perhaps it was only a rumour. He could have been seen to lose a little and people would start fabricating all sorts of stories about him.

There was nothing I could do.

I said to her: “Olivia, you would write to me … if you needed to confide anything?”

“But of course.”

“Don’t forget I shall want to know all about my goddaughter.”

“You shall,” said Olivia dimpling.

“And … about you yourself,” I added.

She nodded. “And in return I want to hear about those amusing people you meet down there.”

“And don’t hesitate to write about anything … just anything. If something goes wrong …”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you never know. You often used to keep things to yourself. I want you to tell me if anything worries you.”

“Nothing is going to worry me.”

“But if it should, you will?”

“Yes, I will.”

“And write and let me know everything that Livia does. First smile. First tooth.”

“Too late for the first smile.”

“All the rest then.”

“I promise. And do come again soon.”

“Yes, I will. And wouldn’t it be fun if you came to Cornwall?”

“Perhaps when Livia is older.”

So we talked and I consoled myself that Jeremy could not be losing a great amount of money, otherwise she must surely know.

Jago left at the same time as I did and the journey back passed speedily and pleasantly. Joe was waiting for me.

“Miss Tressidor ‘ave missed ‘ee something terrible, Miss Caroline,” he told me. “She have been as touchy as a bear with a sore head. You can guess what she’s been like.”

“I have never known a bear … let alone one with a sore head.”

“You’re a funny one, you are, Miss Caroline. Proper touchy, she’s been. All happy today though. I see Mr. Jago was on the train with you. He’s been away as long as you have.”

“Oh?” I said noncommittally.

I wondered how soon that information would be passed round.

“Reckon he’s been to Plymouth. Still a bit of to-ing and fro-ing with them Landowers. Mind you, it ain’t like it was afore they come into the money.”

I thought: I am indeed back, back to local speculation and gossip, back to a situation which I must keep in hand.

As we passed Landower I wondered whether Paul had noticed my going and how he had felt about it. Suppose I went back to London. Perhaps I could help Rosie sell her hats. I should think that would be an eventful career.

How amusing … the daughter of the house—who had turned out to be no true daughter—going to work for the parlourmaid—who was no true parlourmaid.

Things were not always what they seemed.

Did I want to go away? No. I should hate to. I wanted to be free with Cousin Mary and why not admit it? With the chance of seeing Paul Landower and dreaming—and hoping—that we could pass together out of this unsatisfying state in which we found ourselves.

Cousin Mary was waiting for me. There was no mistaking her joy in my return. “Thought you were never coming back,” she grumbled. “Of course I came back,” I said.