Changeling

“What shall we look for?” demanded Belinda. “We looked for brown horses last time.”

“It will be black this time,” said Oliver. “They will be hard to find.”

“Black horses, black horses,” cried Belinda. “I’ll find one. Come on. Don’t waste time.”

She went to Oliver and put her arm through his.

Belinda came to my room that evening. It was just before their bedtime and she would soon be having her glass of milk and biscuits before washing her teeth and going to bed. She was already undressed and in her dressing gown and slippers. I was surprised to see her but felt a thrill of gratification that she had shown a desire to be with me. Our relationship had certainly undergone a change and that gave me great pleasure.

“How nice of you to come and see me, Belinda,” I said. “I see you are almost ready for bed.”

“Leah will bring in the milk soon.”

“Yes. Did you want to tell me something?”

She was silent for a few seconds, then she burst out: “You’re going to marry Oliver, aren’t you?”

“No,” I said.

“I think he is going to ask you. He likes you a lot.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“The way he looks at you and smiles when he talks. He’s always talking about you.”

“You have become very observant, Belinda.”

“I know about these things and I know he wants to many you. I want him to.”

“Why?”

“Because I could come and live with you. We could leave here and be in his house. You and I, Lucie and Oliver. We could have games and treasure hunts all the time.”

“Life is not all games and treasure hunts, you know.”

“It’s always fun with him. I think it would be lovely. The four of us … and we could take Leah, of course.”

“Before you make too many arrangements, Belinda, I must tell you that I am not going to marry him.”

“He will ask you to.”

“Two people have to want to marry before they do.”

“He’ll ask. I thought he was asking you in the summerhouse when we came in. We should have waited and then you could have announced it.”

“Listen, Belinda. I know you like him very much and would relish him as a brother-in-law but life doesn’t work out as smoothly as that. We can’t always have what we want, especially if it involves other people. I am not going to marry him.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to marry him.”

“Everyone wants to marry when they get old.”

“How can you know?”

“Well, they talk about it. It’s what you have to do when you get old.”

“You don’t have to. And I am not going to marry Mr. Gerson.”

“But he wants to marry you.”

“How do you know?”

“I can tell.”

“Then you are very wise.”

“You are not planning to marry someone else, are you?”

I hesitated a moment too long and she was very perceptive.

“I believe you want to,” she said accusingly.

“Look, Belinda, you don’t know anything about these things. I am not going to marry Mr. Gerson.”

“But why not? It would be wonderful. If you don’t, it will spoil everything. We could all be together. It would be such fun.”

She looked as though she were going to burst into tears. I put my arms round her.

“Things don’t always work out as people want them to. People marry because they believe they have found the one and only person with whom they can live happily. You’ll understand one day. Now, go and have your milk. It will be getting cold.”

Her face hardened and she flounced out of the room.

I asked myself: Why did I think she had changed? She wants everything her own way … even my marriage!

Nightmare

IT WAS LATE MAY before we went to Cornwall. I had been receiving Pedrek’s letters regularly, but they were not enough, so it was with great delight that I set out. Belinda and Lucie were delighted at the prospect—Miss Stringer slightly less so. As for Leah, it was difficult to know what she felt. I was sure she would be glad to see her native town, but she would have to pay frequent visits to her mother and I supposed that was a less attractive proposition.

Life had run smoothly since Christmas. Belinda seemed more contented than ever before. Mrs. Emery said: “It’s good to see her more settled like. She’s lost that moody broody way she used to have … picking quarrels … and wanting to be better than anyone else.” It was true.

Oliver Gerson was a frequent visitor. He came when Benedict was there and they spent a good deal of time together but he usually managed to ride with us. He was as friendly as ever and although I would sometimes find him regarding me ruefully, he did not refer to his proposal. He seemed to be biding his time.

He always showed his affection for Belinda and she blossomed when he was around. Moreover the pleasure inspired by his visits seemed to linger after he had gone and I was sure she lived in a state of pleasant anticipation wondering when he would come again.

I had thought, when I first told her we were going to Cornwall, she would raise objections for it was hardly likely that Oliver would visit us there and for a time it really seemed as though that was on her mind. But after a while she was as excited as Lucie about going back there.