The pool of St Branok

We had paid several visits to London. Grace was now installed in a house of her own. It was quite small, not very far from the house in the square. It was tall and narrow with four stories and two rooms on each floor. It had been bought from the money Lord John had left Jonnie; and Grace was allotted an income. It had all been amicably arranged by Uncle Peter.

We saw Grace frequently when we were in London. I sensed that she was not happy and I supposed that that was inevitable. She had lost Jonnie just as they were about to embark on a new life together.

She confided in me a little. She said that Helena was very kind to her and so were Matthew and Geoffrey, but she felt that her presence reminded them of their loss and she hesitated to visit them as often as she would have liked.

I told her that was nonsense. They would love to see her often. She was a consolation for their loss.

She replied that she felt even less inclined to go to the house in the square. Amaryllis was very kind to her but she felt that Uncle Peter entertained some suspicions still, although she knew that he had made many inquiries about the validity of her marriage. She was very relieved that he must have satisfied himself that she was truly married to Jonnie, because he had made all the necessary monetary arrangements.

"Of course I understand that," said Grace. "I came to you and you helped me but I never forget that I was a kind of upper servant. Then I was received here ... through the kindness of your mother. But I sometimes feel that Peter Lansdon does not entirely accept me. He has arranged the money of course, but I am not allowed to touch the capital. I get my income. I have this house ... Sometimes I feel he is keeping everything in his hands ... until he proves something."

"You mustn't think like that. He is a very wily business man. He suspects everyone and everything. It's second nature to him. You mustn't mind his being cautious, Grace. He can't help it."

"No, I suppose not. I wish I could entertain people. If Jonnie had lived I would have helped him in his work. I would have had all the influential people here."

"I don't think archaeology is like politics. It's not a matter of meeting people but of finding out things."

"I suppose you are right. I think perhaps I feel a little idle. Do you know, now and then I almost wish I were back in Scutari ... that hospital .. . among all the horror. There was always plenty to do there ... and Jonnie was alive."

"I understand, Grace," I said. "You must come down and stay with us for a while. My mother would be pleased."

She did visit us; and when she was at Cador she insisted on making a dress for my mother and doing little bits of sewing for me.

Morwenna Pencarron came often to Cador and we visited her family in the house near the mine. It was rather a grand house. It had been an old manor and the Pencarrons had spent a lot of money on restoring it. The gardens were wonderful. The Pencarrons were quite homely people. Josiah Pencarron had been extremely successful with the mine he had owned before he came to this one. He was the complete business man. He thought business and talked it constantly; he was the sort of man who would be certain to succeed.

At the same time he was a loving father and husband; and great care was lavished on Morwenna ... an only child. He used to say: "I want the best for my girl."

And so I had come to my seventeenth birthday. I knew, of course, what that entailed.

"You'll have to have a season," said my mother. "Both your father and I agreed on that. You can't stay down here. You're growing up. We're lucky to have family in London. That will help a lot. Aunt Amaryllis knows the ropes. She brought Helena out. And Helena will of course help."

"That was a long time ago. I expect it has all changed now."

"Oh, not so much as all that. Anyway we shall find out."

"I hope you won't expect me to walk off with the catch of the season."

"My dear child, your father and I want you to be happy, that's all."

"I heard Helena say she hated every minute of it."

"Well, Helena's a very retiring sort of girl. You are not like that."

"You didn't have a season, Mama?"

"No. Because I went to Australia with my parents ... and you know what happened there. Afterwards it seemed unnecessary."

I smiled apologetically. I knew she was reminded of the death of her parents. It was the last thing I wanted to do.

I said: "Well, I suppose I shall find it amusing."

"You will. You will enjoy it. And if nothing comes of it ..."

"You mean if I don't find a rich and handsome husband?"

"Angel!"

"Well, that is what it is all about, isn't it?"