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“Suits me,” Rosemary said laconically, and waited while Fenella hunted out a small sketching block and chose a couple of pencils.

Poldean House being on the headland on the opposite side of the estuary from Lion House and Pay-Off Gove, they had to take the ferry over. They had to wait some little time for this since, as Rosemary remarked resignedly, whichever side you wanted it, it was always on the other!

However, at last it came and a little later they landed. Then, instead of going up Fore Street, they took the lower road which in turn became a path leading to the cove.

Except for the gulls and the cormorants, the two girls had it all to themselves. Fenella settled herself on a convenient rock and began sketching one particular bit of rock formation with which she hadn’t been satisfied in her earlier drawing. Then a gull came and settled on the rock and made such a picture that she included him. And during the time it took her, Rosemary said nothing, anxious though she had been for this opportunity. She walked restlessly about, lit cigarette after cigarette, half smoked them and threw them away. Then, as if she had at last managed to screw up her courage, she came over and stood by Fenella. Even then she was still silent—

It became something of a strain.

“Well?” Fenella asked without lifting her eyes from her work.

Rosemary startled perceptibly.

“You said that like Martin does,” she said accusingly.

“Did I?” Fenella glanced up momentarily. “Yes, perhaps I did. I must have caught it off him. What I meant was, what do you want to talk about?"

Rosemary lit another cigarette and smoked it in silence for a moment or two.

“About Anthony.”

“What about Anthony?” Fenella asked as calmly as she could.

Rosemary came and stood in front of her, her feet planted firmly apart.

“I want to know if something I was told is true," she said. “And seeing that I can hardly ask Anthony, there’s no one else to ask but you.” She paused, drew a deep breath and began again. “Just before I come back to Fairhaven, did Anthony say that he’d come to the conclusion that it was time he thought about getting married?”

Startled, Fenella pressed so hard on her pencil that the lead snapped.

“So he did,” Rosemary said harshly. “And did he also say that it wouldn’t be a love match—just a marriage of convenience? Well, did he?” she demanded inexorably.

“Something like that,” Fenella confessed reluctantly.

Rosemary gave herself a little shake.

“That’s that, then,” she said matter-of-factly. “Thanks for being honest about it, Fenella. I'll leave you in peace now! And, in fact, for all time. I shall be leaving Fairhaven at once—and I shan’t come back again! ”

Fenella jumped to her feet.

“Because of what Aunt Gina told you? Oh, but of course it was her, since it wasn’t Anthony and it wasn’t me. And only the three of us were there! ”

“Yes, it was Mrs. Trevose,” Rosemary admitted, “but it doesn’t really matter who it was. The point is that it’s true so—oh, forget it! I wouldn’t have bothered you about it only—I had to know.”

She turned away, but Fenella caught at her hand.

“No, wait, Rosemary. We can’t leave it at that! Tell me why it matters so much that Anthony said that? There
wasn’t
anyone else, you know.”

“That’s beside the point,” Rosemary said obstinately. “Oh, all right, you may as well know. Anthony has asked me to marry him since I’ve been back. He said—” her voice quavered—“that he’d never loved any other woman or given a thought to marrying anyone but me. And it just wasn’t true—”

“How very strange ”
Fenella thought. "
Anthony wants to marry Rosemary and I don’t mind in the least. I only want them both to be happy!”

“Anthony said that because he was driven to it," she said firmly. “You know that Aunt Gina has always wanted him to marry me, and I think she tried to get him to believe that he
ought
to marry me because—well, because—"

“Because, as an adolescent, you’d rather lost your heart to him?" Rosemary suggested, watching Fenella's face closely.

“I think she may have put it even more strongly than that," Fenella said unhappily. “I think she did her best to convince him that he’d
encouraged
me to—to fall in love with him. And so the least he could do—don’t you see what a frightful position Anthony was in?
He
knew he’d done nothing of the sort—and that’s absolutely true, Rosemary. I used to persuade myself that he did, of course. Read a significance that simply didn't exist into almost anything he did or said—”

Rosemary drew a deep breath.

“You’re being incredibly frank, Fenella!”

“Don’t say ‘incredibly,' Rosemary,” Fenella begged earnestly. “Because that means you don’t believe me, and you’ve got to, because it’s the truth!”

“Yes,” Rosemary said slowly, “I believe it is—so far. Goon!”

“Well, don’t you see, the only way out was for Anthony to make it clear to me that if ever he got married, he wouldn’t choose me? And when you remember that at that time he didn’t know you were coming back—well, wasn’t it the kindest way he could choke me off without hurting my feelings unbearably? You see, he didn’t have to tell me in so many words—”

“Yes, I see what you mean. But I don’t quite see why you’re so anxious that I should believe you.”

“Oh, don’t be so dim!” Fenella exclaimed impatiently. “Anthony’s never been in love with me, but he’s very fond of me, and he’s been both kind and generous to me. Don’t you think it’s only natural that I shouldn’t want him to lose out because of that? After all. I’m very fond of
him
! ”

“Fond!
” Rosemary pounced on the word. “Don’t you see, that’s the important thing? If you’re fond of him in the same way that he undoubtedly is of you, then, yes, I suppose I can accept that it’s true. But if you’re still in that state of hero-worshipping calf-love, then I wouldn’t put it past you to get a kick out of sacrificing your chance of happiness in order to give Anthony his. See?”

Fenella looked at her in something like exasperation. It hadn’t been easy to make that confession, and now it appeared that for all the good it had done, she might as well have saved her pride.

“Rosemary, what’s the matter with you?” she asked. “Anthony’s told you that he loves you. And you know as well as I do that he doesn’t tell lies, least of all over important things like that! So why take notice of anybody else except him, particularly when you must realise that Aunt Gina—”

“Didn’t like me right from the beginning and was very glad when I married someone else,” Rosemary finished. “I’ll tell you, Fenella. Because all the self-confidence I ever had vanished years ago, and since we’re being frank for once, I’ll tell you why. You know I jilted Anthony and married Geoff Maidment after having known him only a very short time? Well, it was terrific fun at first. We were quite mad. Geoff was a top-line racing driver and he was getting big money that we spent as soon as he got it. Then I started a baby and I wasn’t very fit. And Geoff wasn’t the sort of man who enjoyed having a wife who couldn’t keep up with him. So more and more he used to go out on his own—I suppose I was the last person to know that he’d been unfaithful to me—” she drew a long, shuddering sigh. “When I did find out, we had a terrific row. He stormed out of the house saying that was the end of everything for us. And he was right. He was racing the next day. There was an awful accident and he was killed instantly. And I lost my baby—no, don’t be sympathetic. Even now, I can’t stand that! But don’t you see what that means? Remember at your garden party I told you that looks are only skin deep and that they can be more of a liability than an asset? I think I’m probably better-looking than I was when Geoff married me, but even then, I had got looks, you must admit! But that didn’t keep Geoff faithful to me. So why should any other man be different? Why should I believe that I can hold Anthony’s love any more than I could Geoff’s?”

“Because Anthony is a different sort of man from Geoff,” Fenella said unhesitatingly. “You must know that! ”

“Oh, I do,” Rosemary admitted. “But I’m still the same me! The sort of woman a man falls for but who can’t hold his love! And nothing you’ve said yet convinces me that Anthony hadn’t every intention of marrying someone else if I hadn’t happened to come back!”

“But you’d believe it if I could convince you that I know now that I don’t love Anthony—that way?” Fenella asked.

“I’m not quite sure—but I’d be nearer to doing it—” Fenella drew a deep breath. She had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but now that it had, she knew that there was only one way to convince Rosemary and that she had got to take it. Indeed, the words began to speak themselves of their own volition.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she heard herself ask. “Would I be engaged to Martin if I were still in love with Anthony?”

“I don’t know,” Rosemary shrugged. “You see, I’m not sure why you and Martin are engaged. No, wait a minute. I know Martin pretty well—I told you that. And I know he’s a bit of a contradiction. He’s most definitely an individual, but he’s also got something of the knight-errant in him. I think it’s quite likely that he came to your rescue in some way—yes, that’s it! You’re too honest, Fenella. Your face gave you away! You found out for sure that Anthony would never marry you and to save your pride, when Martin proposed to you, you accepted him. That’s the truth, isn’t it?’'

Fenella’s face was very white, but her chin was up and her shoulders squared. This was it, and there was no way out.

“You’re near the truth—near enough for the difference not to matter,” she admitted steadily. “When we got engaged, I didn’t love Martin. But somewhere along die line, he began to matter more and more. Even then, I don’t think I knew what it meant until just now, when you said Anthony had asked you to marry him—and it didn’t hurt in the least! But please don’t ever tell him because—it was what you said—a sort of knight-errantry. He doesn’t love me—I think he loves you, doesn’t he?”

“Me?” Rosemary almost screamed the word. “Good heavens, no! And never has done! There’s nothing like that between Martin and me! ”

“But—”

“Now listen to me, Fenella—” she stopped abruptly and smiled wryly. “We’ve rather reversed places, haven’t we? Up to now, you’ve been telling me what! Now, I’m telling you! I told you about Geoff, and me losing my baby. I was just about frantic. There was absolutely nothing left of my world except myself. Do you wonder I felt I couldn’t go on? And I decided that I wouldn’t. I drove along the coast road—all this happened at Monte Carlo—to a place where the cliffs were very high—” Her eyes widened and she shivered as if she was living that moment over again. “I was just going to jump when someone grabbed me—Martin. We’d never seen each other in our lives before, but if ever a woman had a good friend, I had in Martin, though I didn’t think so at the time. I screamed and scratched at him, but he held on and in the end he persuaded me to get back into my car. He drove and drove right through the night without saying a word. When dawn broke, he stopped and just said
‘well?’
And I said all right, I’d go on. But I was going to play a lone hand. No more falling in love—and no more believing that any man had the ability or the wish to be faithful to me. And Martin had the sense not to argue. He just said all right, that was up to me, and began to talk about himself. At first I couldn’t be bothered to listen, then he said something about Fairhaven and that caught my attention. I suppose I was the first person to hear his version of the
Nimrod
story, and I told him all I knew. He said that one of these days, he intended going to Fairhaven to find out for himself and by chance—and it was chance—it was the very year that Father decided to open Poldean House again. And it was very much by chance that I came as well. I'd made up my mind never to come back here, and then, suddenly, I realised why. It was because I was afraid of meeting Anthony. Afraid that some of the very things that used to annoy me in the old days might make too great an appeal to me now for my peace of mind. Things like him taking it for granted that he shouldered all the burdens and made all the decisions. And his absolute straightness and the way he never let up on anything until he’d done what he planned to do. I used to call that narrow-mindedness and pigheadedness, but—” she shook her head ruefully. “You see, those were the very qualities Geoff hadn’t got. But once I realised why I funked coming here, I
had
to come, just to prove to myself that Anthony was no more capable of making an impression on me than anyone else. And then, practically as soon as I got here, that ghastly party of yours! And I had to meet Anthony for the first time with dozens of people watching me, full of curiosity—"

“You know, Rosemary—” Fenella began, but Rosemary waved the interruption away.

“I’ve nearly finished,” she insisted. “I don’t think I could have faced up to it only, walking along Fore Street, I ran into Martin. And that, apart from the day I first met him, was the only time we’ve ever seen each other! So does that sound as if he was in love with me?”

“No, perhaps not,” Fenella admitted. “But it doesn’t mean that he’s in love with me.”

“Then why did he ask you to marry him?” Rosemary sounded as exasperated now as Fenella had done previously. “Men don’t propose to a girl just to make conversation, you know ! ”

“It was—it was because I was worried that he might think it was I who had hit him over the head, Fenella explained. “He wanted to convince me that he didn’t think anything of the sort—” her voice trailed away as she saw the incredulity in Rosemary’s face.

“Well, of all the queer reasons! ” she said slowly. “You know, Fenella, there must have been something more to it than that.”

“No.” Fenella shook her head.

“But that night you were on the cliff with him, and Anthony and I saw you from
Wild Rose
—that looked like the real thing all right!”