Midsummer's Eve

She was lying. It was clear to me what had happened. There had been full coverage of the story in the Sydney Gazette. She would have read about his coming to Australia to serve his prison term, his acquiring a little land which he was working when news of his inheritance came to him. She would have read all that. It was a romantic story of the kind beloved by newsmen. And how simple for her to fabricate the story. The marriage, the flight of the man who vanished from Australia for years during which he lived his grand life in England where he had married, settled down and had a family.

I could see how the idea would come to an unscrupulous schemer, and because of the great distance between Australia and England, it might be possible to make it work.

I wondered what was happening to my life. I had suffered the terrible shock of losing my family and that had been so sudden. They had left me in the best of health that morning and I had never seen them again. I had lost Rolf-due to my own uncertainty; and now, I was in danger of losing my home. It seemed as though fate was preparing to rob me of everything I held dear.

I could not believe that this was really happening. It could not be possible that my mother had not been married to my father all those years and that I was his illegitimate daughter, Jacco his illegitimate son. It was like a bad dream.

And yet Mr. Tamblin thought the story was not impossible.

I had ridden some miles without thinking where I was going. I had come to Croft Cottage, and it was almost as though I had been led there, for it was of sudden interest to me. It was a pleasant little house, just outside the estate, and my mother had bought it ten years ago. One of the maids was going to have a baby, I remembered, and the father was a farm labourer. A quick marriage was necessary and my mother had bought the cottage for them to live in. It was, therefore, my mother's property, and presumably did not belong to the estate. What a strange thought! If this woman's story was proved to be true this cottage could be the only home I had in Cornwall.

I rode round the cottage. It was empty because the family had gone up to the north of England just before we left for Australia. The husband's cousin had offered him a share in his farm as far as I remembered, and no one else had taken up residence in the cottage.

This was absurd. Of course the woman would be proved a fraud.

I slowly made my way back to Cador.

I summoned Isaacs and Mrs. Penlock to the drawing room. They came, their faces expectant.

They knew something momentous had happened.

I came to the point at once.

I said: "A woman is now in the neighbourhood who says she is my father's daughter and that he married her mother before he married mine. She claims that Cador is hers.”

Even Mrs. Penlock was struck dumb.

"She will have to prove her story, of course," I went on, "and if she succeeds there would be great differences here. The place would not belong to me but to her.”

Isaacs had gone quite white. He looked very shocked.

Mrs. Penlock stammered: "Oh ... the wicked woman to say such things. It be a pack of lies, that's what it be.”

"That's what I think, Mrs. Penlock," I said. "It is what I hope. But of course such statements have to be examined, and Mr. Tamblin gives some credence to her story.

She says she has proof. I think it could be well if you explained it to the servants.

They know that something is happening, and I think it would be better for them to hear the truth rather than to listen to rumour. Particularly as this could affect their future very considerably.”

Isaacs said: "I will make it known to them, Miss Cadorson.”

Mrs. Penlock nodded. "Don't 'ee take no notice of this wicked woman, Miss Cadorson,”

she said.

"Unfortunately, Mrs. Penlock, I have to ... until she is proved to be a fraud.”

"She will be. Don't 'ee make no mistake about that." I prayed fervently that she might be right.

I could settle to nothing. As I went about the house, I was thinking: It may be that I have no right here. It may be that I shall have to go.

The next day I went to the lawyers' office where Mr. Tamblin greeted me solemnly.

"Come in, Miss Cadorson." He whispered to me: "She is here ... and so is Mr. Hanson.

I will take you to her immediately.”

Rolf took my hands and holding them firmly looked into my face.

"Good morning, Annora," he said; and I could see that he was telling me how disturbed and sorry he was.

I felt a little rush of relief because he was here. And then I saw her. Oh no, I thought. She is not my father's daughter.

She was tall and broad with large features, big china blue eyes and abundant hair with a reddish tinge. There was about her an air of aggression. No, no, no, I thought.

He would never have had such a daughter.

"This is Miss ... Maria Cadorson," said Mr. Tamblin. "And er ... Miss Annora Cadorson.”

She gave a little sharp laugh. "Well, I suppose we're sisters ... or half-sisters, you might say.”

I did not answer. I could not agree.