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592trees. He turned his head to the right to where stood the lodge. That, too, was set among long grass and was definitely uninhabited.Should he walk up that drive and to the house? What then could he say?

'Can I see my real father, please?'Huh! Did he want to see his real father who, by all accounts, was a no-good reprobate?It was on this thought that he turned away and walked along by a stone wall. Here, too, there was evidence of neglect, for some of the top copings were lying where they had fallen on the verge of the road. Further along, the wall ended abruptly, and there again were two iron gates; but both of these were wide open, and the drive that went through them showed it was used and he could see clearly for some good way along it. Would he be able to catch a glimpse of the house from the far end?He wasn't really aware that the thought had urged him forward, until he was brought to a stop by the beginning of another stone wall running at right angles away from him and there, beyond the wall, 1593he saw a great stretch of well-kept garden and in the far distance a figure bending over. It was a woman; she had her back to him. Then, when the figure straightened up and turned in his direction, even from this distance he knew now he was looking at a girl . . . the girl, the one whom Mrs Hanratty had said was wrong in the head, and who, yes, if it was she, would be his half-sister. The thought made his whole body quiver.He had stepped over a narrow ditch and was walking between neat rows of vegetables, and he was more than half-way towards her when she moved, not backwards away from him but towards him.He was the first to stop. He was now standing to the side of a row of cabbages and she had come to a halt about three yards distance, and he was simply astonished by the look of her. She was tall and her head was without covering and her auburn hair was in two plaits, the one hanging over her shoulder almost reaching her waist. But it was her face he was concentrating on. It was so beautiful that he told himself she must be normal; this couldn't be the daughter who was considered mental.

594'Good-morning,' he said.When she made no reply he thought, with further amazement, it must be her.

He was about to speak again, to say that he was sorry that he had disturbed her, when she opened her mouth wide and let out a sound. It wasn't a scream nor yet a cry, yet it was high and the only way he could translate it was by the word, 'Wong'. When she emitted it again she turned her head to the side and in the direction of a long greenhouse. And now he saw a man come hurriedly out of it and towards them, and at his approach she began to wave her arms and her head wagged, and she made a number of, to him, unintelligible sounds. But the man seemed to understand her, for he now nodded his head at her, saying, 'Yes. Yes. All right, Miss Henrietta. All right.' Then, approaching Joseph and with his back to the young girl, he said, 'You needn't be scared: she's all right, she's only deaf.''I'm not scared.''You're early.'Joseph's eyes widened and he made a small movement with his head; then the man said, 'How did you get here? Did you walk

595from the town? Because you're not from round about, are you?''No. No, I'm not from round about.*The man stepped back a space and looked him up and down, saying, 'You're not the | usual sort that answers for the job, an* you I don't look as if you'll be much use at liftin' j or helpin' either, and it stated that plainly in | the paper. Where've you come from?'He could answer this; he said, 'I've . . . il've spent the night with Mrs Hanratty.''Oh, old Bertha. Oh, well, why didn't you I say? She put you on to it, did she?' He | laughed now and made a movement with his I hand as if he were about to punch Joseph on I the shoulder as he said, 'I bet you couldn't I get a word in. She's better than the News of \the World, but she's a good sort. I haven't i seen her for some time. How is she?''She seems very well.'Now the man narrowed his eyes as he j said, 'Are you related. You're not her grand| son from Australia, are you?''No.

No, I'm not.''Ah well, that's a pity. She just lives to I hear or see one of 'em. Lonely she is, but I with a heart of gold. Well, then, I think you

596had better come and see Mr Bright, 'cos you'll be workin' with him. By the way, I'm Ron Yarrow.'

He now turned to the girl who had moved to his side and, his mouth forming the words slowly and widely, he said, 'New fella for to help your grandpa.*The girl now glanced at Joseph, then turned back to Ron Yarrow, who laughed and mouthed the words, 'Don't ... go ... by ... looks, Miss Henrietta. He's . . .

young ... an'... likely ... as ... strong ... as ... a ... bull.'The girl smiled at him and shook her head, and now she was mouthing words which sounded to Joseph like, 'Fairy tin bule,' causing Ron Yarrow to laugh again and to look towards Joseph and explain, 'She says you're a very thin bull. But come on.'When Joseph made no move, Ron Yarrow said, 'What's the matter? You're not frightened of her, are you?''No.

No, of course not.''Well then, come on.'While sitting in the kitchen last night with Mrs Hanratty he thought he had stepped into a dream; now he imagined he must be continuing it, and when he moved it was as if

597he were being pulled forward, for he kept telling himself he must not go into that house, because he didn't know what his reactions would be if he saw the man.He was following Ron now past two further greenhouses, both in a very bad state of repair; then through an arched way in a high wall and so into a big yard, lined on one side with horse boxes, a barn and other buildings. And they were halfway across it when Ron Yarrow stopped and, turning to Joseph, looked him up and down, saying, 'You're well put on, lad, an' you don't speak the local twang. You must be hard set for a job to take this on;' then he let out a slow breath, and concluded, 'Well, you're here, so you'd better see what you're in for afore you skip out the gate quicker than you came in.' And at this he marched forward, opened the door, and entered the kitchen; and when Joseph, following him, remained on the threshold, he turned and almost barked at him,

'Well! come in. There's nobody goin' to bite you.'Rose Jackson, who was now well into her sixties, was sitting on a high stool before the kitchen table chopping vegetables: her 598plump hand holding a sharp-pointed knife that was dicing a carrot with machine precision. But she stopped in the process and looked at Ron Yarrow as he, pointing to Joseph, said, This is another one of

'em, cook. He's not half as old as the last one, and not half as big either, but beggars can't be choosers.5He now turned to address the other occupant of the kitchen, Katie Swift. The years were piled on her, too, and he said, 'You'd better go and get Mr Bright, that's if he's finished with the first clean-up. Is Minnie up there with him?''Yes; he's got to have help of some sort.' She was looking at Joseph as she spoke. 'And Minnie would welcome the devil if he'd offer to give a hand.'As Joseph watched Katie Swift walk up the kitchen he was overcome by a feeling of panic and he turned to the man and said hurriedly, 'I don't think . . , you see ... well, it should happen that . . .*Rose Jackson slid her plump body off the stool, looked at him and said quietly, 'Give it a try, lad. They're in hard straights up there. It's fifteen shillings a week and your grub.

599father"hat's a good wage, I can tell you, an' more than can be afforded. But they're desperate for help. He's not a bad fellow when you get to know him. A bit fractious at times, does a ?it of yellin', but his bark's worse then his nte, and he's at the end of his days. It's just to relieve Mr Bright an' keep the master ;lean an' turn him, an' things like that.' Joseph stared at her. The woman was talkig about the man who was really his grandand she was pleading with him, and he wet his lips and swallowed deeply, she said, 'Have a cup of tea an' take a seat.' iShe pointed to a settle, which stood in a simlar position to the one in Mrs Hanratty's {kitchen but was twice as long, and as if he rere a child he obeyed her.Sitting on the settle, he now watched her >rew the tea, all the while talking to the man [who had brought him in, and as he listened [to them it was only their voices that regisItered, not what they were saying, because his mind was racing ahead. If he were to stay here . . . if he were, then what would he say to Mr Douglas and the missis? And (there was Amy. They would be home on Monday or Tuesday. If he were to tell them

600he was staying here he would have to tell them the reason why, that he now knew who he was. No, he couldn't do that: that would cause more trouble and he had promised his mother not to divulge what she had told him. He couldn't tell them. But what he must do is go back and collect some clothes and leave a letter. But what would he say? Where could he say he had gone? Not to university, because when he didn't turn up there, somebody would likely enquire why. No; he would tell them that he felt he had to get away for a time; and then he would write to the university and say . . . what would he say to them? He was ill and would come up later? Because if the man upstairs was so old and near his end, there would be no need for him to stay, would there? And he could leave then and resume his life.Don't talk so damned silly, man! ... He almost spoke the words aloud. Resume what life? His life would never be the same again. He would never be the same again. This part of the dream he had stepped into was stark reality. Whatever happened now would change his life forever. He knew that, and even before he met the servant called Brightj

601)r the old man, his grandfather, who was lear death, he knew he would stay here. 'Drink it up while it's hot.' He had just taken a sip of the tea when he saw the gardener man go quickly down the room to meet an elderly man who had just ;ome in the far door, and after a low and lurried conversation they came towards dm, where he was now standing awaiting them.James Bright stared at the tall young man ho was staring back at him, and he did not speak immediately, for he was racking his )rains as to where he had seen him before or |someone like him. Over the years he had had lot of young men through his hands and this one reminded him of someone he had iknown in the past. So it was a moment beIjfore he spoke, when he asked Joseph, 'What |is your name?' 'Joseph Carter.' 'Are you from these parts?' 'Yon side of Gateshead.' Well, that was jtrue, Shields was yon side of Gateshead, al|though quite some way.'Have you been in this kind of work beIfore?'

602'I . . , I don't know what kind of work is expected of me/'You would see the advert?'It was Ron who now put in in a low voice, 'He just heard of the post from Mrs Hanratty. He's a friend of hers.''Oh. Oh.'

Bright nodded, then added, 'Well, you had better come along and see what your duties are. By the way, what kind of work have you been doing?'Joseph swallowed deeply, then said, 'Sort of clerical, but I wanted a change.''Clerical?' Bright's heavy eyebrows moved upwards; then he sighed before saying,

'Well, come along.'When Joseph entered the hall his steps slowed for a moment as he gazed about him.

Two shafts of sunlight from the tall windows, one each side of a huge oak door, streamed across a carpet and partly up the panelled walls, seeming to show up and emphasize the shabbiness of the rest of this large room. He now slowly climbed the stairs, slowly because he was keeping in time with Bright's step.On the landing Joseph again paused as his eyes took in the gallery and the two broad 603corridors going off. It was as they entered the left one that a door halfway along opened and a woman came out. Her step, too, was slow. She was wearing what looked like a loose dressing-gown.

Her hair looked slightly tousled, and she stopped at their ap>roach and drew the collar of her garment closer round her neck. Then she was looking it the tall young man as Bright explained his >resence. But she didn't speak to him, nor lid Joseph utter a word.So this was the cousin Victoria. She was still, in a way, beautiful, but it was a dim, faded beauty, like the reflection of her laughter's through a mist.As they walked on Bright said under his >reath, That is the mistress. She hasn't been l of late . . . fine lady.' Then he pushed )pen a door and entered a room. But Joseph lid not immediately follow him: he not only

>aused, he came to a standstill on the thresh)ld. He was looking into a large room and right opposite to him was a huge four-poster >ed. There were no drapes on it except at the lead and these were of some heavy faded laterial, and in the bed was a figure, the )ody half-propped up against a pile of pil-604lows. The rest of the room seemed cluttered with furniture, large and small. But what hit him forcibly after the sight of the old man was the odour that emanated from the room. It was hot and thick with a body smell.A middle-aged woman was standing at the far side of the bed, and when a voice from the bed, said, 'Who's that, Minnie?' she peered at the newcomer and said, "Tis a visitor, master/There came a yell: 'Visitor? I want no bloody visitors . . . Bright!''Yes, sir?' Bright moved to the bed now. 'It's not that kind of visitor, sir; it's . . . it's a young man who has come to assist me/'Assist you . . . again? You never keep the blasted fellows, so why do you pick 'em? Dolts, all of them. Big-fisted, muddle-headed dolts.

Bloody idiots.'Joseph had now walked further into the room where he could see, over the foot of the bed, the white straggly-haired, bony and flushed face of this old man. He watched the tongue flick in and out of the wet lips; then the mouth opened and in an extraordinary loud voice that belied his age, the man said, 'Don't stand there like a stook, man! Come

605up here where I can see you. I want to know who's going to handle me, not lay me out before me time. Donkeys could do better than some of 'em. I'm telling you, Bright.' He had turned again to Bright, who now beckoned Joseph to come towards him; and when Joseph complied he stood aside to allow him to get near enough to his patient for scrutiny.But when Joseph stood by the head of the bed and looked down into the rheumy blue eyes, he found them staring hard back at him, and in silence, until Bright said, 'This is a young man . . .'Tm not bloody-well blind. No matter what else is wrong I've still got me sight and me mind, I keep telling you, Bright . . . Who is this?'It was now that Joseph spoke for the first time. 'My name is Joseph Carter, sir/ he said.The scrutiny continued, and then the old man said,