Mistress of Mellyn (11 page)

Then into those more or less peaceful days came two events to disturb me.

The first was of small moment, but it haunted me and I could not get it out of my mind.

I was going through one of Alvean’s exercise books, marking her sums, while she was sitting at the table writing an essay;

and as I turned the pages of the exercise book a piece of paper fell out.

It was covered with drawings. I had already discovered that Alvean had a distinct talent for drawing, and one day, when the opportunity offered itself, I intended to approach Connan TreMellyn about this, for I felt she should be encouraged. I myself could teach her only the rudiments of the art, but I believed she was worthy of a qualified drawing teacher.

The drawings were of faces. I recognised one of myself. It was not bad. Did I really look as prim as that? Not always, I hoped. But perhaps that was how he saw me. There was her father . several of him. He was quite recognisable too. I turned the page and this was covered with girls’ faces. I was not sure who they were meant to be.

Herself? No . that was Gilly, surely. And yet it had a look of herself.

I stared at the page. I was so intent that I did not realise she had leaned across the table until she snatched it away.

” That’s mine,” she said.

” And that,” I retaliated, ” is extremely bad manners.”

” You have no right to pry.”

” My dear child, that paper was in your arthmetic book.”

” Then it had no right to be there.”

” You must take your revenge on the paper,” I said lightly. And then more seriously: ” I do beg of you not to snatch things in that ill-mannered way.”

” I’m sorry,” she murmured still defiantly.

I turned back to the sums, to most of which she had given inaccurate answers. Arithmetic was not one of her best subjects. Perhaps that was why she spent so much of her time drawing faces instead of getting on with her work. Why had she been so annoyed? Why had she drawn those faces which were part Gilly’s, part her own? “

I said: ” Alvean, you will have to work harder at your sums.”

She grunted sullenly.

” You don’t seem to have mastered the rules of practice nor even simple multiplication. Now if your arithmetic were half as good as your drawing I should be very pleased.”

Still she did not answer.

” Why did you not wish me to see the faces you had drawn? I thought some of them quite good.”

Still no answer.

” Particularly,” I went on, ” that one of your father.”

Even at such a time the mention of his name could bring that tender, wistful curve to her lips.

” And those girl’s faces. Do tell me who they were supposed to be you or Gilly?”

The smile froze on her lips. Then she said almost breathlessly : ” Who did you take them for. Miss?”

” Whom,” I corrected gently.

” Whom did you take them for then?”

” Well, let me look at them again.”

She hesitated, then she brought out the paper, and handed it to me;

her eyes were eager.

I studied the faces. I said: ” This one could be either you or Gilly.”

” You think we’re alike then?”

n ” N … no. I hadn’t thought so until this moment.

” And now you do,” she said.

“You are of an age, and there often seems to be a resemblance between young people.”

” I’m not like her!” she cried passionately. ” I’m not like that … idiot.”

” Alvean, you must not use such a word. Don’t you realise that it is extremely unkind?”

” It’s true. But I’m not like her. I won’t have you say it. If you say it again I’ll ask my father to send you away. He will … if I ask him. I only have to ask and you’ll go.”

She was shouting, trying to convince herself of two things, I realised. One that there was not the slightest resemblance between herself and Gilly, and the other that she only had to ask her father for something, and her wishes would be granted.

Why? I asked myself. What was the reason for this vehemence?

There was a shut-in expression on her face.

I said, calmly looking at the watch pinned to my grey cotton bodice: ” You have exactly ten minutes in which to finish your essay.”

I drew the arithmetic book towards me and pretended to give it my attention.

The second incident was even more upsetting.

It had been a moderately peaceful day, which meant that lessons had gone well. I had taken my late evening stroll in the woods and when I returned I saw two carriages drawn up in front of the house. One I recognised as from Mount Widden so I guessed that either Peter or Celestine was visiting. The other carriage I did not know, but I noticed a crest on it, and it was a very fine carriage. I wondered to whom it belonged before I told myself that it was no concern of mine.

I went swiftly up the back stairs to my apartment.

It was a warm night and as I sat at my window I heard music coming from another of the open windows. I realised that Connan TreMellyn was entertaining guests.

I pictured them in one of the rooms which I had not even seen. Why should you, I asked myself. You are only a governess. Connan TreMeIlyn, his gaunt body clothed elegantly, would be presiding at the card table or perhaps sitting with his guests listening to music.

I recognised the music as from Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream and I felt a sudden longing to be down there among them; but I was astonished that this desire should be greater than any I had ever had to be present at Aunt Adelaide’s soirees or the dinner parties Phillida gave. I was overcome with curiosity and could not resist the temptation to ring the bell and summon Kitty or Daisy who always knew what was going on and were only too happy to impart that knowledge to anyone who was interested to hear it.

It was Daisy who came. She looked excited.

I said: ” I want some hot water. Daisy. Could you please bring it for me?”

” Why yes. Miss,” she said.

” There are guests here tonight, I understand.”

” Oh yes. Miss. Though it’s nothing to the parties we used to have. I reckon now the year’s up, the Master will be entertaining more. That’s what Mrs. Polgrey says.”

” It must have been very quiet during the last year.”

“But only right and proper … after a death in the family.”

” Of course. Who are the guests tonight?”

” Oh, there’s Miss Celestine and Mr. Peter of course.”

” I saw their carriage.” My voice sounded eager and I was ashamed. I was no better than any gossiping servant.

” Yes, and I’ll tell you who else is here.”

” Who?”

” Sir Thomas and Lady Treslyn.”

She looked conspiratorial as though there was something very important about these two.

” Oh?” I said encouragingly.

“Though,” went on Daisy, “Mrs. Polgrey says that Sir Thomas bain’t fit to go gallivanting at parties, and should be abed.”

” Why, is he ill?”

” Well, he’ll never see seventy again and he’s got one of those bad

hearts. Mrs. Polgrey says you can go off sudden with g neither. Not

She stopped and twinkled at me. I longed to ask her to continue, but I felt it was beneath my dignity to do so. Disappointingly she seemed to pull herself up sharply.

” She’s another kettle of fish.”

“Who?”

” Why, Lady Treslyn of course. You ought to see her. She’s got a gown cut right down to here and the loveliest flowers on her shoulder.

She’s a real beauty, and you can see she’s only waiting”— ” I gather she is not of the same age as her husband. “

Daisy giggled. ” They say there’s nearly forty years’ difference in their ages, and she’d like to pretend it was fifty.”

” You don’t seem to like her.”

” Me? Well, if I don’t, some do!” That sent Daisy into hysterical laughter again, and as I looked at her ungainly form in her tight clothes and listened to her whee2y laughter, I was ashamed of myself for sharing the gossip of a servant, so I said : ” I would like that hot water, Daisy.”

Daisy subsided and went off to get it, leaving me with a dearer picture of what was happening in that drawing room.

I was still thinking of them when I had washed my hands and unpinned my hair preparatory to retiring for the night.

The musicians had been playing a Chopin waltz and it had seemed to spirit me away from my governess’s bedroom and tantalise me with pleasures outside my reach—a dainty beauty, a place of salons such as that somewhere in this house, wit, charm, the power to make the chosen man love me.

I was startled by such thoughts. What had they to do with a governess such as myself.

I went to the window. The weather had been fine and warm for so long that I did not believe it could continue. The autumn mists would soon be with us and I heard that they and the gales which blew from the southwest were, as Tapperty would say, ” something special in these parts.”

I could smell the sea and hear the gentle rhythm of the waves. The ” voices ” were starting up in Mellyn Cove.

And then suddenly I saw a light in a dark part of the house and I felt the goose-pimples rise on my flesh. I knew that window belonged to the room to which Alvean had taken me to choose my riding habit. It was Alice’s dressing room.

The blind had been down. I had not noticed that before. Indeed I was sure it had not been like that earlier in the evening because, since I had known that that was Alice’s room, I had made a habit which I regretted and of which I had tried to cure myself of glancing at the window whenever I looked out of my own.

The blind was of thin material, for behind it I distinctly saw the light. It was a faint light but there was no mistaking it. It moved before my astonished eyes.

I stood at my window staring out and, as I did so, I saw a shadow on the blind. It was that of a woman.

I heard a voice close to me saying: ” It is Alice!” and I realised that I had spoken aloud.

I’m dreaming, I told myself. I’m imagining this.

Then again I saw the figure silhouetted against the blind.

My hands which gripped the window sill were trembling as I watched that nickering light. I had an impulse to summon Daisy or Kitty, or go to Mrs. Polgrey.

I restrained myself, imagining how foolish it should look. So I remained staring at the window.

And after a while all was darkness.

I stood at my window for a long time watching, but I saw nothing more.

They were playing another Chopin waltz in the drawing room, and I stood until I was cold even on that warm September night.

Then I went to bed but I could not sleep for a long time.

And at last, when I did sleep, I dreamed that a woman came into my room; she was wearing a riding habit with blue collar and cuffs, trimmed with braid and ball fringe. She said to me:

” I was not on that train, Miss Leigh. You wonder where I was. It is for you to find me.”

Through my dreams I heard the whispering of the waves in the caves below; and the first thing I did on rising next morning—which I did as soon as dawn appeared in the sky-was to go to my window and look across at the room which-little more than a year ago—had belonged to Alice.

The blinds were drawn up. I could dearly see the rich blue velvet curtains.

It was about a week later when I first saw Linda Treslyn.

It was a few minutes past six o’clock. Alvean and I had put away our books and had gone down to the stables to look at Buttercup who we thought had strained a tendon that afternoon.

The farrier had seen her and given her a poultice. Alvean was really upset, and this pleased me because I was always delighted to discover her softer feelings.

” Don’tee fret, Miss Alvean,” Joe Tapperty told her. ” Buttercup ‘ll be right as two dogs on a bright and frosty morning afore the week’s out; you see! Jim Bond, he be the best horse-doctor between here and Land’s End, 1 do tell ‘ee.”

She was cheered and I told her that she should take Black Prince in Buttercup’s place tomorrow.

She was exdted about this for she knew Black Prince would test her mettle, and I was glad to see that her pleasure was only faintly tinged with apprehension.

As we came out of the stables I looked at my watch.

” Would you care for half an hour’s stroll through the gardens?” I asked. ” We have half an hour to spare.”

To my surprise she said she would, and we set off.

The plateau on which Mount Mellyn stood was a piece of land a mile or so wide. The slope to the sea was steep but there were several zigzag paths which made the going easier. The gardeners spent a great deal of time on this garden which was indeed beautiful with the flowering shrubs which grew so profusely in this part. At various points arbours had been set up, constructed of trellis work around which roses climbed.

They were beautiful even as late as this and their perfume hung on the air.

One could sit in these arbours and gaze out to sea; and from these gardens the south side of the house was a vision of grandeur, rising nobly, a pile of grey granite there on the top of the cliff like a mighty fortress. It was inevitable that the house should have a defiant air, as though it represented a challenge, not only to the sea but to the world.

We made our way down those sweet-smelling paths and were level with the arbour before we noticed that two people were there.

Alvean gave a little gasp and, following her gaze, I saw them. They were sitting side by side and dose. She was very dark and one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen; her features were strongly marked and she wore a gauzy scarf over her hair, and in this gauze sequins glistened. I thought that she looked like someone out of A Midsummer Night’s Dream-Titania perhaps, although I had always imagined her fair. She had that quality of beauty which attracts the eyes as a needle is attracted by a magnet. You have to look whether you want to or not; you have to admire. Her dress was pale mauve of some clinging material such as chiffon and it was caught at the throat with a big diamond brooch.

Connan spoke first. ” Why,” he said, ” it is my daughter with her governess. So, Miss Leigh, you and Alvean are taking the air.”

” It is such a pleasant evening,” I said, and I made to take Alvean’s hand, but she eluded me in her most ungracious manner.