Voices in a Haunted Room

At the end of February Sophie moved into Enderby. Alberic delighted her and Jeanne approved of him. He was an indefatigable worker, and he was so grateful to Sophie for providing a home for him that he declared he would die for her.

Dickon said cynically: “It might be a different story if the noble young gentleman were called upon to carry out his promise. All the same, French melodrama apart, he is reasonably grateful, and as Sophie was looking for people to serve her, she has found one, who because of his position and the fact that he shared her nationality, could prove satisfactory.”

At the beginning of March Jonathan went to London. I was always relieved when he was not in the house, and I was beginning to sink into a sense of security. I was completely absorbed by the baby as it grew within me, and other matters just slipped through my consciousness without my taking much notice of them.

My mother and I were together a great deal. As we both needed rest, we would often lie side by side on her bed and she would talk to me of her life, of her marriage to my father, of his death, and the knowledge that it had always been Dickon whom she had loved.

“My mother came to great happiness late in life, and so did I,” she said. “I think perhaps this is the best time for happiness to come. Then you appreciate it more; and it is not so easy to strive for it in one’s mature years, as it is when one is young. When you are young you believe in miracles. You think you just have to catch them and they are yours. When you are older, you know they are rare, and if one comes your way, how you cherish it, how you appreciate it!” I was able to draw on her contentment, and it said a great deal for my powers of deception that I was able to convince her that I was as happy as she was.

We discussed the nursery. “It will be as though the babies are twins,” she said.

“What if one of us did have twins? There are twins hi the family. Twins for you and twins for me. Four of them, Claudine. Just think of that.”

I could laugh with her.

During that month Sabrina caught a cold which persisted. She lay in bed looking very small and wan.

Dickon spent a great deal of time with her, and that gave her immense pleasure.

We were all aware that she was dying and for several years we had watched her carefully through the winters. She liked to have my mother or me with her when Dickon could not be there. She would hold my hand and talk to me of the past, and again and again she stressed the great joy which had been hers when Dickon came home with my mother.

“He loved her as a child,” she said. “But your grandmother did not want the marriage.

Oh, she did what she thought was right, and the result was that your mother-dear Lottie-was taken away from us. Dickon married and so did she, but now it is as it should be and they are together. It is wonderful that their marriage is to be fruitful.

If I could have one wish it would be to see their child. But, my dear Claudine, I do not think I shall manage that.”

“You will,” I said. “Dickon says you must, and you know you always have pleased him.”

“He has brought the greatest joy into my life. When his father was> killed in that dreadful battle at Culloden, I thought it was the end of everything for me, and then Dickon came and I started to live again.”

“I know,” I said. “And Dickon has made you happy.”

“He is the most wonderful of men, Claudine. And so are his boys. And now he is to have another child ... and so are you. The family goes on. That is the important thing, Claudine. We come and we go; we live our lives; we make our marks. And I suppose every one of us has a part to play. Then we pass on. But the family remains. It will go on through the generations.”

I said she must not tire herself with too much talking; but she replied that it did her good to talk.

“Be happy, Claudine,” she said. “There is too much unhappiness in the world. I remember the guilt I felt as a child. It should never have been. It was only when I married Dickon’s father that I started to live. Then I lost him and would have mourned him all my life, but Dickon was born and then I was happy.”

I sat listening to her; and I saw clearly what I must do. Not only for my sake but for that of everyone else. There was no way of telling whether David or Jonathan was the father of my child, but I was going to believe that David was. I was going to try to put the past behind me and be happy.

March was gone and April had come in milder and with a touch of spring in the air.

It seemed that Sabrina had lived through another winter after all. But that was not to be. One morning in early April, her maid went into her bedroom as usual to take in her morning hot chocolate and could not wake her. Sabrina lay quietly, serenely, at peace.