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Authors: Sara Seale

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It

s all cold save for the soup but that

s no fault of mine. You should hav
e
come at the right time and sat down to a proper meal with us all,

she said.


Don

t take any notice of Brownie,

Craig told her with a grin.

She loves an excuse to put us in our places, don

t you, Brownie?

Miss Maud Sennen gave him a disapproving look.


It

s a pity you don

t listen to me, then,

she said and sat down in a straight-backed chair.

Well, Belle Linden, does it please you to come back to Tremawvan after all these years?


It hasn

t changed,

replied Belle easily.

I wonder you haven

t made improvements, Craig. Oil lamps, for instance. Why don

t you have your own power plant?


We

re used to lamps. Plants can go wrong and they cost money,

he answered.


But you could well afford it,

said Belle demurely.

He gave her a speculative, level look but it was Brownie who replied bluntly:


Those that has money should spend it how they please. You

ll find there

s no unnecessary waste at Tremawvan, Belle.

Tina ate her supper in silence, made a little uncomfortable by the cross-currents of the conversation. No one took any notice of her until Brownie remarked suddenly:


Has this child no folks of her own
?


Only me,

said Belle equably.

You don

t grudge her hospitality, do you, Brownie?


The hospitality is Craig

s. I accept it myself,

Brownie replied with unexpected dignity, and Tina, choking suddenly over a piece of chicken, said quickly:

It was very kind of Mr. Pentreath to invite me as well as Belle, but I suppose there was no help for it.

Craig had been watching her, observing the sensitive delicacy of her face while she ate and the fairness of her skin in the lamplight, a fairness that colored too easily.


Mr. Pentreath sounds very formal for a new relation,

he said with unexpected gentleness.

We

ll have to
think
of something better.


Behind your back you are referred to as rich Cousin Craig,

said Belle, and instantly the hardness was back in his face and his shrewd eyes challenged hers.


An admirable title,

he said suavely.

You shall call me Cousin Craig until you grow up, Tina, and I will address you as Clementina on special occasions.


Oh, please,

she said, her high forehead looking worried—
not
Clementina.

It

s such a horrid name.


Horrid? I think it

s charming,

he told her gravely, then suddenly smiled.

Brownie shall take you upstairs, now. It

s time we were all in bed. Good night.


Good night—Cousin Craig,

she said, rising obediently. She stooped to kiss her stepmother, but Belle turned away her face.


I

ll come along and say good night later,

she said.


All right,

said Tina and followed Brownie

s bent figure out of the room.

II

Rooms had been allotted to the Lindens in a small wing added to the main corridor.


You

ll be out of the way here and not interfere with the rest of the household,

Brownie said, peering fiercely at Tina over the small lamp she carried.

There

s a little room next door you can have for a schoolroom and not be littering the living rooms with clutter.


But I don

t need a schoolroom,

protested Tina,

I

m sixteen and left school six months ago.


Hm,

said Brownie non-committally and opened the door of Tina

s bedroom.

It was a big room like all the rooms at Tremawvan, but here the walls were papered with an old-fashioned sprig design which was rather charming. There seemed to be a mass of furniture and the bed was a half-tester with faded brocade hangings.


Are you used to lamps?

Brownie inquired, turning up the wick of one of the three which stood in the room.

No?

I didn

t sup
p
ose so. Well, be careful. If it smitches turn it down. You

ll not need the other two. No point in
wasting oil.
I’ll
bid you good night, now. Don

t read in bed and set the house afire.


I won

t,

Tina, so much taller, looked down on the neat grizzled head and smiled shyly.

Good night, Miss Brownie, and thank you very much for your trouble over my lovely supper.

Brownie

s bright eyes quizzed her for the first time directly.


There was little trouble. You had the leavings as you would expect,

she said brusquely, then a fleeting, difficult smile passed over her face.
“I’ll
say one thing for you, Tina, you

ve nice manners and you didn

t learn them from your stepma, I

ll bound.

She went out of the room without another word and shut the door.

Downstairs, Belle was saying lazily:


Do we have to go to bed at once? I

ve hardly had a word with you alone, Craig.

He kicked a log aflame on the heap of white ash.


You

ll have the whole summer for talking,

he said and she put her head on one side.


So you expect to keep us for the summer?

she said with a smile.


That was the arrangement, wasn

t it?


The arrangement was indefinite, according to your letter. You know, Craig, you need never have been bothered with us at all if you would have—given a little concrete help. Hotels, even the cheap ones, are ruinous these days.


The child is best off here. Hotel life is bad for adolescents. I wonder you don

t make a home for her, Belle.

She lifted her hands in a small gesture of negation.

I have no money with which to buy a house my dear.


But Linden left a little capital.


Very little. Not enough to pay for Tina

s schooling and live in reasonable comfort too.


You have your mother

s money.


Five or six hundred a year. You forget she left her share in the mine to Keverne.


Because, if you remember, she thought you were going to marry him.

Belle shrugged.


That was a long time ago. I suppose the shares passed to Uncle Zion when Keverne was killed.


Yes.


And now you have the lot.

Belle smiled her indolent, bitter little smile, and added softly:

Do you really think it

s fair, Craig?


If you

d married my brother your position would have been very different,

he said gravely.

Would you expect the family to do anything for you in the circumstances
?

Her mouth was hard.


I was a Pentreath on my mother

s side. We have blood ties, Craig.


Yes, I recognize that. Well, as I

ve said, you have a home for as long as it is convenient, you and the girl.


Convenient,

she repeated slowly,

to me or to you?


Shall we discuss that when it arises?

He moved away from the fire and held out a hand.

Come. It

s time we were in bed. At least let me rid you of one of your unflattering ideas of me by welcoming you to my home. I hope you

ll be happy here.

She put a hand in his, and allowed him to pull her out of her chair.


Brownie has become very difficult,

she said with a little laugh.

I

m afraid she likes me no better now than she did when I was a girl.


Brownie

s bark was always worse than her bite,

he replied.

She

s a very loyal soul under that prickly exterior.


Well, she

s cause to be. Pentreath charity has kept her for her best part of thirty years. She

s like everything else in the house, a fixture.

For a moment the piercing blue of his steady regard held a glint of steel.


Was it Aunt Ruth who taught you to despise the Pentreaths so much, or the man no one wanted her to marry?

Her eyes fell before his.


How hard feuds die in this family,

she s
ai
d, trying to speak lightly.

Mother was surely entitled to marry whom she wished, and I don

t despise you, Craig. Indeed
I can only be grateful that Tremawvan is open to me again. You must forgive my apparent discontent. Life hasn

t been easy for me since I married.

He touched her lightly on the shoulder.


We

ll forget fe
u
ds for the summer, shall we? Tomorrow Brownie can hand over the housekeeping to you, though you

ll have to be tactful and allow her to keep a few offices for herself or she will be very hurt.


Just as you say,

said Belle, making a face.

Well, good night, Craig. I

d better go up to Tina before she

s asleep.


Tell her

—a faint smile touched his lips—

no, I

ll tell her myself in the morning.


Don

t let her bother you,

Belle said carelessly, picking up her handbag and cigarettes,

I

ve told her to keep out of your way.

Craig turned down the lamp.


I wonder what else you told her,

he remarked.

I fancy we were a mutual surprise to each other.


What had you expected? I

m afraid Tina

s at the awkward age, all legs and arms and girlish enthusiasm.


Do you think so?

he said politely.

Good night, Belle.

Tina had been waiting a long time in her big, curtained bed, listening to the wind whistling round the house and trying to keep her eyes open. At the sight of Belle, the one person who was familiar at the end of this confusing long day, she sat up against the pillows and held out her arms.


I thought you

d forgotten,

she said.

Oh, Belle, I do feel rather lost and unlike myself.

Belle sat on the bed, avoiding the outstretched hands, and lighted a cigarette. She hoped the child was not going to be emotional. Tina very rarely treated her to a scene but when she did she was tiresomely thorough.


We were talking,

she said,

it must be quite late. That wallpaper

s rather charming. This house could be made very tolerable if someone took it in hand.


I like it,

said Tina, clasping her hands behind her neck and gazing up at the ceiling.

It has space and queer things in it like statues downstairs. Father

s old home before I was born was like this. It had flagged floors, too.


Cold to the feet,

said Belle, watching her and remembering Craig

s remark downstairs. Was it possible that this half-grown coltish grace could appeal to a man who was mature? In the softness of the lamplight she could see something of beauty in the slender lines of throat and breast and indefinite modelling of the facial bones, then Tina moved suddenly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and the illusion was lost. Belle smiled with tolerant amusement at her own thoughts.


Is Brownie really a cousin?

Tina asked.

She seems more like a country woman or a—a nanny.


Oh, yes. Not a very near relation, but still a connection. The Pentreaths were nothing to boast of originally, you know. Uncle Zion had quite a Cornish burr. Aunt Jessie, his wife, was a lot better than he was, and fortunately the sons took after her. By the same token, you haven

t said what you think of rich Cousin Craig.


I don

t think he liked you saying we called him that,

said Tina slowly

He—he

s not what I expected him to be.


Exactly what he said about you.


Did he? I thought he

d be much older and more—well—commercial, if you know what I mean. How old is he?


Thirty-three or four. I don

t remember exactly. He was the younger of the two brothers.

The pupils of Tina

s eyes dilated suddenly in the lamplight.


Belle—he never told you, but I got out at the wrong station and had to walk and he found me on the road and the fortune-teller was right.

Belle smoked impatiently.


What
are
you talking about?

she asked
.


The dark stranger who was to enter my life violently,

said Tina.

It was him, you see. He stopped his car so suddenly because I jumped out at him that it ran into the bank and he used very violent language; so it seems like fate, doesn

t it? The long journey and the dark stranger both coming together
.

Belle stubbed out her cigarette with fingers that itched to slap her.


For goodness

sake, Tina, don

t go getting silly ideas about any of the Pentreaths because they happen to be dark,

she said, getting to her feet

Craig may look romantic with his buccaneer arrogance, but I can assure you he

s a very shrewd hard-h
e
aded business man at heart and not the sort to have patience with schoolgirl crushes.

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