The tea arrived and the parlour maid hovered.
"Shall I pour, madam?" she asked.
" No, no, Dawson. Leave us."
Dawson went away and she said to me: " Would you care' ll1 to take charge of the tea-tray? I suffer from rheumatism and my joints are a little stiff today."
I rose and went to the table on which the tray had been set. There was a silver kettle over a spirit lamp, and the teapot, cream jug and sugar bowl were all of shining silver. There were cucumber sandwiches, thin bread and butter, a seed cake and a variety of small cakes.
I had the feeling that I was being set yet another task to ascertain if I could perform this important social activity with grace. Really, I thought, she is an impossible woman; and yet I liked her in spite of herself and myself.
I knew that my colour was heightened a little, but apart from that I showed no sign of perturbation. I asked how she liked her tea and gave her the requisite amount of cream and sugar, carrying her cup over to her and setting it on the marble and gilt round table by her chair.
"Thank you," she said graciously.
Then I offered her the sandwiches and bread and butter, to which she helped herself liberally.
I kept my place behind the tea-tray.
" I hope you will come to see me again," she said, and I knew that her feelings for me were similar to mine for her. She had been prepared to be critical but something in our personalities matched.
I vaguely wondered whether in about seventy years' time I should be just such an old lady.
She ate daintily and heartily and she talked as though there was so much to say that she feared she would never say half she wanted to.
She encouraged me to talk too and I told her how Gabriel and I had met when we had rescued Friday.
"Then you heard who he was, and that must have been pleasant for you."
"Heard who he was?"
" That he was an extremely eligible young man, heir to a baronetcy, and that in due course the Revels would be his."
Here it was again--the suggestion that I had married Gabriel for money and position. My anger would not be controlled.
"Nothing of the sort," I said sharply.
"Gabriel and I decided to be married before we knew a great deal about each other's worldly position."
" Then you surprise me," she said. " I thought you were 8 sensible young woman."
" I hope I am not a fool, but I never thought it was necessarily sensible to marry for money. Marriage to an incompatible person can be most unpleasant ... even if that person is a rich one."
She laughed and I could see that she was enjoying our encounter. She had made up her mind that she liked me ; what shocked me a little was that she would have liked me equally well if I had been a fortune-hunter. She liked what she called my strength. How they admired that quality in this family 1 Gabriel had been looking for it and found it in me. Simon had presumed that I had married Gabriel for his money. I wondered whether he also would have thought no less of me for that. These people expected one to be shrewd and clever sensible, they called it. No matter how callous, as long as you were not a fool, you were to be admired.
" So it was love," she said.
" Yes," I answered defiantly, " it was."
" It is a mystery which has not been solved."
" Perhaps you will solve it."
I was surprised to hear myself say: " I hope so."
" You will if you are determined to."
" Do you think so? Surely there have been unsolved mysteries although many people had devoted their time and energy to the discovery of the truth."
" Perhaps they do not try enough. And now you are carrying the heir.
If your child is a boy, that will be the end of Ruth's hopes for Luke.
" She sounded triumphant. " Luke," she went on, " will be another Matthew; he is very like his grandfather. "
There was the briefest of silences and then I found myself telling her how I- had seen the schoolroom at the Revels with her initials in the cupboard and scratched on the table, how Aunt Sarah had conducted me there and given me a glimpse of the old days.
She was interested and willing enough to talk of them.
" It's years since I have been up to the nurseries. Although I pay a yearly visit to the Revels at Christmas I rarely go all over the house.
It's such an effort to go anywhere nowadays. I am the eldest of the three of us, you know. I'm two years older than Matthew. I made them all dance to my tune in those days."
" So Aunt Sarah implied."
" Sarah 1 She was always a scatterbrain. She would sit at'll3 the table twirling a piece of hair round and round until she looked as though she had been dragged through a hedge backwards ... dreaming, always dreaming. I believe she's becoming quite simple in lots of ways."
" She's very alert in others."
" I know. She was always like that. I used to be at the house every day in the first years of my marriage. My husband never got on with my family. I think he was a little jealous of my feeling for them."
She smiled reminiscently and I could see that she was looking back through the years, seeing herself as the wilful, headstrong girl who had always managed to have her own way.
" We met so few people," she said. " We were very isolated here in those days. That was before the railways came; we visited the county people and there was no other family into which I could marry but that of the Redvers. Sarah didn't marry at all ... but perhaps she would not have done so whatever her opportunities. She was born to dream her life away."
" You missed the Revels very much after you left to marry, [ said, replenishing her cup and handing her the cakes.
She nodded sadly.
"Perhaps I should never have left it."
" It seems to mean so much to the people who've lived in it."
" It'll mean a great deal to you one day perhaps. If your child is a boy he will be brought up at the Revels, brought up to love and revere the house. That's tradition."
"I understand that."
" I am certain the child will be a boy. I shall pray for it." She spoke as though even the Deity must obey her commands, and I smiled.
She saw the smile and she smiled with me.
" If it were a girl," she went on," and Luke were to die ..."
I interrupted in a startled way: "Why should he?"
"Some of the members of our family enjoy longevity; others die young. My brother's two sons were extremely delicate in health. If Gabriel had not died in the manner he did he could not have lived many more years. His brother died at an early age. I fancy I see signs of the same delicacy in Luke. "
The words startled me; and as I looked across at her I thought I detected a gleam of hope in her eyes. I was imagining this. She had her back to the light. I was letting my thoughts run on.
Luke and my unborn child, if it is a boy, will stand between Simon and the Revels. By the way she spoke of the Revels and of Simon I knew they meant a good deal to her . ; perhaps more than anything else in her life.
If Simon were the master of the Revels, then she would return there to spend her last days.
I said quickly as though I feared she would read my thoughts: tt And your grandson's father . your son . was he also delicate? "
" Indeed no. Peter, Simon's father, was killed while fighting for his Queen and country in the Crimea. Simon never knew him; and the shock killed his mother, who never really recovered from his birth. She was a delicate creature." A faint scorn came into her voice. " It was not a marriage of my making. But my son had a will of his own.... I would not have had him otherwise, although it led him into this disastrous marriage. They left me my grandson."
" That must have been a great consolation to you."
"A great consolation," she said more gently than I had heard her speak before.
I asked if she would have more tea; she declined and as we had both finished she said: " Pray ring for Dawson. I do not care to see used cups and plates
."
When the tea things had been taken away she began to talk about Luke.
She wanted to know my impressions of him; did I find him attractive, amusing?
I found this embarrassing, for I was not sure what I really thought of Luke.
"He is very young," I replied. " It is difficult to form an opinion' of young people. They change so quickly. He has been pleasant to me."
"The doctor's beautiful daughter often visits the house, I believe."
" I have not seen her since my return. We have so few visitors now that we are a house of mourning."
" Of course. And you are wondering how I hear so much of what goes on at the Revels. Servants make excellent carriers of news. My gatekeeper's wife has a sister at the Revels."
" Yes," I said, " she is my maid, -a very good girl."
" I am glad she gives satisfaction. I am pleased with Etty. I see a great deal of her. She is about to have her first child' ll5 and I have always taken an interest in our people. I shall see that she has all that she needs for her confinement. We always send silver spoons to babies born on the Kelly Grange estate."
" That's a pleasant custom."
" Our people are loyal to us because they know they can trust us."
We were both surprised when Simon arrived to take me back to the Revels. The two hours or so I had spent with Hagar Redvers had been stimulating, and I had enjoyed them.
I think she had too, for when she gave me her hand she was even gracious. She said: "You will come and see me again." Then her eyes twinkled and she added, " I hope." And it was as though she recognised in me one who could not be commanded. I knew she liked me for it.
I said I would come again with pleasure and should look forward to the visit.
When Simon took me home we did not say very much; but I could see he was rather pleased by the way things had gone.
During the next weeks I walked a little, rested a good deal, lying on my bed in the afternoons reading the novels of Mr. Dickens, Mrs.
Henry Wood and the Bronte sisters.
I was becoming more and more absorbed in my child and this consoled me.
Sometimes I would feel afresh the sorrow of Gabriel's death, and the fact that he would never know his child seemed doubly tragic. And each day, it appeared, there would be something to remind me poignantly of Friday. We had taken so many walks in the grounds about the house, and when I heard the distant bark of a dog, my heart would begin to beat fast with hope. I made myself believe that one day he would come back.
Perhaps this was because I could not bear to believe that--as in the case of Gabriel--I should never see him again.
I tried to take an interest in the life of the neighbourhood. I had tea with the vicarage family; I went to church and sat in the Rockwell pew with Ruth and Luke. I felt that I was settling in as I had not begun to do while Gabriel was with me.
Sometimes I would be taken to the nurseries by Sarah- she never seemed to tire of taking me there. I was introduced to the family cradle which was a beautiful piece of workman116 ship on rockers and was about two hundred years old. tiarati was making a blue padded coverlet for it, and her needlework was exquisite.
I visited Hagar once more and we seemed to grow even closer; I assured myself that I had found a good friend in her.
We did no entertaining at Kirkland Revels on account of being in mourning, but close friends of the family visited us now and then.
Damans came, and I was certain that Luke was in love with her, but I was not at all sure of her feelings for him. I wondered idly whether Damaris had any feelings. I had noticed that even with her father she seemed sometimes unresponsive, although she was docile enough. I wondered whether she had any real affection, even for him.
The doctor was often in and out of the house, to keep an eye on Sir Matthew and Sarah, he said; not forgetting Mrs. Rockwell, he would add, smiling at me.
He made out a little schedule for me. I was not to walk too far, I must give up riding. I must rest whenever I felt so inclined; and take hot milk before going to bed.
One day when I had gone for my morning walk, I was about a mile from the house when I heard the sound of carriage wheels behind me and turning saw the doctor's brougham.
He instructed his man to pull up beside me.
" You've tired yourself," he accused me.
" Indeed I have not. And I am nearly home."
"Please get in," he said.
"I'm going to give you a lift back."
I obeyed, protesting that I was not ,in the least tired. In fact, he looked much more tired than I, and in my somewhat forthright manner I told him so.
" I've been up to Worstwhistle," he said. " That always tires me."
Worstwhistle! The mention of that place saddened me. I thought of those people with their poor clouded minds, shut away from the world.
How good he was to give his services to such a place!
" You are very good to go there," I told him.
" My motives are selfish, Mrs. Rockwell," he answered.
"These people interest me. Besides they need me. It is a pleasant thing to be needed."
" That is so, but it is good of you all the same. I have' ll7 heard from others how you comfort them, not only with youi medical skill but with your kindness."
"Hal" He laughed suddenly and his white teeth flashed in his brown face. " I have a great deal to be thankful for. I'll tell you a secret about myself. Forty years ago I was an orphan ... a penniless orphan.
Now it is a sad thing in this world to be an orphan, but to be a penniless orphan, my dear Mrs. Rockwell, that is indeed a tragedy.
"
" I can well believe it."
" I might have been a beggar ... standing by the road shivering with cold, driven to frustration by hunger, but life was good to me after all. As I grew up it became the dream of my life to heal the sick. I had no hope of attaining my ambition. But I caught the notice of a rich man and he was good to me. He educated me, he helped me to realise my ambition. But for that rich man, what should I have been?
Whenever I see a beggar by the roadside, or a criminal in his prison, I say to myself: There but for the grace of that rich man go I. Then I give myself to my patients. Do you understand me? "
" I do not know ..." I began.
" And now you think a little less of me because I am not quite a gentleman, eh?"
I turned on him fiercely. " I think you are a very great gentleman," I said.
We had reached the Revels and he murmured: "Then will you do me a favour?"
" If it is in my power."
" Take great care of yourself ... even greater care."
I was taking tea with Hagar Redvers, and she was talking-as she loved to--of her childhood and how she had ruled the nursery at the Revels, when suddenly that overcrowded room seemed to close in on me and I could no longer breathe. Something happened to me, and I was not quite sure what it was.
The next thing I remembered was that I was lying on the horsehair couch and smelling salts were being thrust beneath my nose.
" What ... happened?" I asked.
"It's all right, my dear." That was Hagar's authoritative voice. "
You fainted."
"Fainted! I ... But..."
"Don't disturb yourself. I think it is a fairly common' ll8 occurrence at this stage. Now lie still. I have seat for Jessie Dankwait. I have the utmost confidence in her."
I tried to rise, but those strong old hands sparkling with garnets and diamonds held me down.
" I think, my dear, you walked too far. This journey is becoming too much for you. You must be driven here next time."
She was sitting in the chair beside the sofa. She was saying:
" I remember how I fainted when my son was on the way. It is such a horrible feeling, is it not. But it is surprising how, as the time progresses, one becomes accustomed to all the little inconveniences.
Do you feel like some refreshment, my dear? I did wonder if a little
brandy might be useful. But I think we should wait for Jessie Dankwait. "
It could not have been much more than fifteen minutes later when Jessie Dankwait came into the room. I judged her to be in her middle forties; her face was rosy, her expression pleasant; her black bonnet, trimmed with jet beads which danced in rather a jolly fashion as she moved, was tied under her chin with black ribbons; on her gaberdine cloak jet also glistened. Beneath the cloak she wore a black dress and a very clean white starched apron.
Kirkland Revels Page 15
