Saraband for Two Sisters

Mrs. Cherry seized on me and, murmuring something about my night’s adventure in the Castle Room, which had brought this on, insisted that I go to bed. I felt a little weak and very depressed so I allowed her to take me there.

I was indeed sad. I did not realize until now how much I had counted on having my baby. I recalled now the nights in the big bed which had filled me with apprehension and which I had been inclined to forget while Richard was away. In my heart I had said it was worthwhile because I was going to have a baby. But now there was no baby. These thoughts I could not explain to anybody, and when Grace and Meg kept telling me that I should soon have another I could not help dwelling rather morbidly on the necessary preliminaries.

I wondered whether I was unusual, but I didn’t think so. I had heard it said by married ladies, whispering together, that it was a woman’s duty to submit to her husband’s needs, however uncomfortable and distasteful this might be; and I knew now what they meant.

I was certainly depressed and I thought more and more of Trystan Priory. It occurred to me that what I wanted more than anything now was to see my sister. I told myself I could talk to her. There was a good deal she would not understand, of course. How could she, an unmarried girl and a virgin? But still I should find some comfort in talking.

Then Richard returned home He was solicitous and very concerned because of what had happened.

He seemed taller and more remote than I had been imagining him and was a little embarrassed with me, not knowing how to tell me of his affection.

For one thing I was grateful. He said I must be strong again before we thought of having another child, because what had happened, although so early in my pregnancy and therefore not dangerous to me, might well have weakened me. And we must take no risks.

During that first week of his return I slept in the Blue Room, so called because of its furnishings, which was on the same landing as our own bedchamber. “You will find it more restful to sleep alone,” was his comment. “Just at first,” he added.

How grateful I was.

I hoped that he did not sense my relief but I feared I could not hide it.

Of course I told him of the night before my miscarriage, how I had seen the lights and thought I had glimpsed Strawberry John on the

 battlements. I saw his face whiten, and I could not understand the expression in his eyes. His mouth was tight; angry, I thought it.

“Could you have imagined it?” he asked, almost pleadingly, I thought. “No!” I said vehemently. “I was fully awake and in possession of my senses. I saw the light, heard something, and there was no doubt that it was a face up there.»

“And you recognized that face?”

“Yes-well, I’m not absolutely sure. The light wasn’t good. But I had seen this Strawberry John in the woods near the castle.”

“I wonder if it is possible?” he said. “I shall discover.”

I said, “Wouldn’t it be better to demolish the castle?”

“No,” he said. “I couldn’t do that.”

“But if it is dangerous and people can get in?”

“People cannot get in. I don’t understand this. It was unfortunate, but I shall look into the matter. You should never have left your bed and gone up to investigate. It was foolish.”

“It seemed natural. After all, I wanted to know what was going on in my home.»

“I will see this Strawberry John at the first opportunity, and if by chance you saw him, I must ask you not to be afraid if by some chance you should do so again. If you do, come to me at once. I shall take the necessary steps. I do not wish you to attempt to investigate without telling me. Please remember that, Angelet.” It was a command, spoken in a stern voice. “So he must talk to his soldiers,” I thought. “It is a painful subject,” he went on. “Your wanderings in the night in all probability have lost the child. You must take care in future. Perhaps it would be better if you came to Whitehall and stayed in London for a while.” I was silent. A terrible depression had come over me and I could not shake it off.

Then began the evenings, when he brought out the soldiers and made a battlefield. He did not always involve me in this; and sometimes he would go to the library and become deeply immersed in some of the books there. We had the occasional game of chess, but I was afraid my game had not improved and I knew that there was little excitement for him in our battles over the board.

I knew too that soon he would be back with me in the red-curtained bed.

One day he said to me, “You are not really happy, Angelet. Tell me what would make you so*?”

I answered promptly: ‘Perhaps if I could see my sister. We have been together all our lives until I came to London. I miss her very much.»

“Why should she not come to visit us?”

“Do you think I might ask her?”

“By all means do so.”

So that day I wrote to Bersaba.