Mistress of Mellyn

by Виктория Холт

  ” Were you watching us, Unde Peter?” demanded Alvean. ” For the last half hour. My admiration for you both is beyond expression.”

  Alvean smiled slowly. ” Did you really admire us?”

  ” Much as I could be tempted to compliment two beautiful ladies,” he said placing his hand on his heart and bowing elegantly, ” I could never tell a lie.”

  ” Until this moment,” I said tartly. Alvean’s face fell and I added: ” There is nothing very admirable in learning to ride. Thousands are doing it every day.”

  ” But the art was never so gracefully taught, never so patiently learned.”

  ” Your unde is a Joker, Alvean,” I put in.

  ” Yes,” said Alvean almost sadly, ” I know.”

  ” And,” I added, ” it is time that we returned for tea.”

  ” I wonder if I might be invited to schoolroom tea?”

  ” You are calling to see Mr. TreMellyn?” I asked.

  ” I am calling to take tea with you two ladies.”

  Alvean laughed suddenly; I could see that she was not unaffected by what I supposed was the charm of this man. ” Mr. Tremellyn left Mount Mellyn early this afternoon,” I said. ” I have no idea whether or not he has returned. “

  ” And while the cat’s away …” he murmured, and his eyes swept over my costume in a manner which I could only describe as insolent.

  I said coolly: ” Come along, Alvean, we must go at once if we are to be in time for tea.”

  I let the horse break into a trot, and holding Buttercup’s leading rein, started towards the house.

  Peter Nansellock walked behind us, and when we reached the stables I saw him making for the house.

  Alvean and I dismounted, handed our horses to two of the stable boys, and hurried up to our rooms.

  I got out of the riding habit and into my dress and, glancing at myself, I thought how drab I looked in my grey cotton. I made a gesture of impatience at my folly and picked up the riding habit to hang in my cupboard, deciding that I would take the first opportunity of asking Mrs. Polgrey if it was in order for me to use it. I was afraid I had acted on impulse by doing so this afternoon, but I had been stung into prompt action, I realised, by the attitude of Connan TreMellyn.

  As I lifted the habit I saw the name on the waist band. It gave me a little start, as I suppose everything in that connection would do for some time. ” Alice TreMellyn ” was embossed in neat and tiny letters on the black satin facings.

  Then I understood. That room had been her dressing room; the bedroom I had glimpsed, her bedroom. I wondered that Alvean had taken me there and given me her mother’s clothes.

  My heart felt as though it were leaping into my throat. This, I said to myself, is absurd. Where else could we have found a modern riding habit? Not in those chests in the attics she had spoken of; the clothes in those were used for charades.

  I was being ridiculous. Why should I not wear Alice’s riding habit?

  She had no need for it now. And was I not accustomed to wearing cast-off clothes?

  Boldly I picked up the riding dress and hung it in my cupboard.

  I was impelled to go to my window and looked along the line of windows, trying to place that one which would have been that of her bedroom. I thought I placed it.

  In spite of myself I shivered. Then I shook myself. She would be glad I used her habit, I told myself. Of course she would be glad. Am I not trying to help her daughter?

  I realised that I was reassuring myself—which was ridiculous.

  What had happened to my commonsense? Whatever I told myself I could not hide the fact that I wished the dress had belonged to anyone but Alice.

  When I had changed there was a knock on my door and I was relieved to see Mrs. Polgrey standing there.

  ” Do come in,” I said. ” You are just the lady I wished to see.”

  She came into my room, and I was very fond of her in that moment.

  There was an air of normality about her such as must inevitably put fancy to flight.

  ” I have been giving Miss Alvean a riding lesson,” I said quickly, for I was anxious to have this matter of the dress settled before she could tell me why she had come. ” And as I had no riding habit with me she found one for me. I believe it to have been her mother’s.” I went to my wardrobe and produced it.

  Mrs. Polgrey nodded.

  ” I wore it this once. Perhaps it was wrong of me.”

  ” Did you have the Master’s permission to give her this riding lesson?”

  ” Oh yes, indeed. I made sure of that.”

  ” Then there is nothing to worry about. He would have no objection to your wearing the dress. I can see no reason why you should not keep it in your room, providing of course you only wear it when giving Miss Alvean her riding lesson.”

  ” Thank you,” I said. ” You have set my mind at rest.”

  Mrs. Polgrey bowed her head in approval. I could see that she was rather pleased that I had brought my little problem to her.

  ” Mr. Peter Nansellock is downstairs,” she said.

  ” Yes, we saw him as we came in.”

  ” The Master is not at home. And Mr. Peter has asked that you entertain him for tea—you and Miss Alvean.”

  ” Oh, but should we…. I mean should I?”

  ” Well, yes. Miss, I think it would be in order. I think that is what the Master would wish, particularly as Mr. Peter suggests it.

  Miss Jansen, during the time she was here, often helped to entertain.

  Why, there was an occasion I remember, when she was invited to the dinner table. “

  ” Oh!” I said, hoping I sounded duly impressed.

  ” You see. Miss, having no mistress in the house, makes it a little difficult at times; and when a gentleman expressly asks for your company—well, I really don’t see what harm there could be in it. I have told Mr. Nansellock that tea will be served in the punch room and that I am sure you will be ready to join him and Miss Alvean. You have no objection?”

  ” No, no. I have no objection.”

  Mrs. Polgrey smiled graciously. ” Then will you come down?”

  ” Yes, I will.”

  She sailed out as majestically as she had arrived; and I found myself smiling not without a little complacence. It was turning out to be a most enjoyable day.

  When I reached the punch room, Alvean was not there, but Peter Nansellock was sprawling in one of the tapestry-covered chairs.

  He leaped to his feet on my entrance.

  ” But this is delightful.”

  ” Mrs. Polgrey has told me that I am to do the honours in the absence of Mr. TreMellyn.”

  “How like you, to remind me that you are merely the governess!”

  ” I felt,” I replied, ” that it was necessary to do so, since you may have forgotten.”

  ” You are such a charming hostess! And indeed I never saw you look less like a governess than when you were giving Alvean her lesson.”

  ” It was my riding habit. Borrowed plumes. A pheasant would look like a peacock, if it could acquire the tail.”

  ” My dear Miss Pheasant, I do not agree. Manners ma kyth the man’—or woman—not fine feathers. But let me ask you this before our little Alvean appears. What do you think of this place? You are going to stay with us?”

  ” It is really more a question of how this place likes me, and whether the powers that be decide to keep me.”

  ” Ah the powers that be in this case are a little unaccountable, are they not? What do you think of old Connan?”

  ” The adjective you use is inaccurate, and it is not my place to give an opinion.”

  He laughed aloud showing white and perfect teeth. ” Dear Governess,” he said, ” you’ll be the death of me.”

  ” I’m sorry to hear it.”

  ” Though,” he went on, ” I have often thought that to die of laughing must be a very pleasant way to do so.”

  This banter was interrupted by the appearance of Alvean.


  ” Ah, the little lady herself!” cried Peter. ” Dear Alvean, how good it is of you and Miss Leigh to allow me to take tea with you.”

  ” I wonder why you want to,” replied Alvean. ” You never have before . except when Miss Jansen was here.”

  ” Hush, hush! You betray me,” he murmured.

  Mrs. Polgrey came in with Kitty. The latter set the tray on a table, while Mrs. Polgrey lighted the spirit lamp. I saw that a canister of tea was on the tray. Kitty laid a doth on a small table and brought in cakes and cucumber sandwiches.

  ” Miss, would you care to make the tea yourself?” asked Mrs. Polgrey.

  I said I would do so with pleasure, and Mrs. Polgrey signed to Kitty, who was staring at Peter Nansellock with an expression close to idolatry.

  Kitty seemed reluctant to leave the room and I felt it was unkind to have dismissed her. I believed that Mrs. Polgrey was also to some extent under the spell of the man. It must be, I told myself, because he is such a contrast to the master. Peter managed to flatter with a look, and I had noticed that he was ready to lavish this flattery on all females; Kitty, Mrs. Polgrey and Alvean, no less than on myself.

  So much for its worth! I told myself and I felt a little piqued, for the man had that comforting quality of making any woman in his company feel that she was an attractive one.

  I made tea and Alvean handed him bread and butter.

  ” What luxury!” he cried. ” I feel like a sultan with two beautiful ladies to wait on me.”

  ” You’re telling lies again,” cried Alvean. ” We’re neither of us ladies, because I’m not grown up and Miss is a governess.”

  ” What sacrilege!” he murmured, and his warm eyes were or me, almost cares singly I felt uncomfortably embarrassed under his scrutiny.

  I changed the conversation briskly. ” I think Alvean will make a good horsewoman in time,” I said. ” What was your opinion?”

  I saw how eagerly the girl waited on his words.

  “She’ll be the champion of Cornwall; you see!”

  She could not hide her pleasure.

  “And,” he lifted a finger and wagged it at her “don’t forget whom you have to thank for it.”

  The glance Alvean threw at me was almost shy, and I felt suddenly happy, and glad that I was here. My resentment against life had never been so far away; I had ceased to envy my charming sister. At that moment there was only one person I wanted to be : That person was Martha Leigh, sitting in the punch room taking tea with Peter Nansellock and Alvean TreMellyn.

  Alvean said : ” It’s to be a secret for a while.”

  ” Yes, we’re going to surprise her father.”

  ” I’ll be as silent as the grave.”

  ” Why do people say silent as the grave’?” asked Alvean.

  ” Because,” put in Peter, ” dead men don’t talk.”

  ” Sometimes they have ghosts perhaps,” said Alvean looking over her shoulder.

  ” What Mr. Nansellock meant,” I said quickly, ” was that he will keep our little secret. Alvean, I believe Mr. Nansellock would like some more cucumber sandwiches.”

  She leapt up to offer them to him; it was very pleasant to have her so docile and friendly.

  ” You have not paid a visit to Mount Widden yet. Miss Leigh,” he said.

  ” It had not occurred to me to do so.”

  ” That is a little un neighbourly Oh, I know what you’re going to say.

  You did not come here to pay calls; you came to be a governess. “

  “It is true,” I retorted.

  ” The house is not as ancient nor as large as this one. It has no history, but it’s a pleasant place and I’m sure my sister would be delighted if you and Alvean paid us a visit one day. Why not come over and take tea with us?”

  ” I am” not sure . ” I began.

  ” That it lies within your duties? I’ll tell you how we’ll arrange it.

  You shall bring Miss Alvean to take tea at Mount Widden. Bringing her to us and taking her home again, I am sure, would come well within the duties of the most meticulous governess. “

  ” When shall we come?” asked Alvean.

  “This is an open invitation.”

  I smiled. I knew what that meant. He was again talking for the sake of talking; he had no intention of asking me to tea. I pictured him, coming over to the house, attempting a flirtation with Miss Jansen who, by all accounts, was an attractive young woman. I knew his sort, I told myself.

  The door opened suddenly and, to my embarrassment which I hoped I managed to hide Connan TreMellyn came in.

  I felt as though I had been caught playing the part of mistress of the house in his absence.

  I rose to my feet, and he gave me a quick smile. ” Miss Leigh,” he said, ” is there a cup of tea for me?”

  ” Alvean,” I said, ” ring for another cup, please.”

  She got up to do so immediately but she had changed. Now she was alert, eager to do the right thing and please her father. It made her somewhat clumsy, and as she rose from her chair she knocked over her cup of tea. She flushed scarlet with mortification.

  I said : ” Never mind. Ring the bell. Kitty will dear it up when she comes.”

  I knew that Connan TreMellyn was watching with some amusement. If I had known he would return I should have been very reluctant to entertain Peter Nansellock to tea in the punch room, which I was sure my employer felt was definitely not my part of the house.

  Peter said: “It was most kind of Miss Leigh to act as hostess. I begged her to do so, and she graciously consented.”

  ” It was certainly kind,” said Connan TreMellyn lightly.

  Kitty came and I indicated the mess of tea and broken china on the carpet. ” And please bring another cup for Mr. TreMellyn,” I added.

  Kitty was smirking a little as she went out. The situation evidently amused her. As for myself, I felt it ill became me. I was not the type to make charming play with the teacups and, now that the Master of the house had appeared, I felt awkward, even as I knew Alvean had. I must be careful to avoid disaster.

  ” Had a busy day, Connan?” asked Peter.

  Connan TreMellyn then began to talk of complicated estate business, which I felt might have been to remind me that my duties consisted of dispensing tea and nothing else. I was not to imagine that I was in truth a hostess. I was there as an upper servant, nothing more.

  I felt angry with him for coming in and spoiling my little triumph. I wondered how he would react when I presented him with the good little horsewoman I was determined Alvean was to become. He would probably make some slighting remark and show us such indifference that we should feel our trouble was wasted.

  You poor child, I thought, you are trying to win the affections of a man who doesn’t know the meaning of affection. Poor Alvean! Poor Alice!

  Then it seemed to me that Alice had intruded into the punch room. In that moment I pictured her more clearly than I had ever done before.

  She was a woman of about my height, a little more slender at the waist but then I had never gone in wholeheartedly for tight lacing a trifle shorter. I could fit this figure into a black riding habit with blue collar and cuffs and black beaver hat. All that was vague and shadowy was the face.

  The cup and saucer was brought to me and I poured out his tea. He was watching me, expecting me to rise and take it to him.

  ” Alvean,” I said, ” please pass this to your father.”

  And she was very eager to do so.

  He said a brief ” thanks,” and Peter took advantage of the pause to draw me into the conversation.

  ” Miss Leigh and I met on the train on the day she arrived.”

  ” Really?”

  “Indeed, yes. Although of course she was not aware of my identity. How could she be? She had never heard then of the famous Nansellocks. She did not even know of the existence of Mount Widden. I knew her of course. By some strange irony of chance I shared her compartment.”

  ” That,�
�� said Connan, ” is very interesting.” And he looked as though nothing could be less so.

  ” So,” went on Peter, ” it was a great surprise to her when she found that we were near neighbours.”

  “I trust,” said Connan, ” that it was not an unpleasant one.”

  ” By no means,” I said.

  ” Thank you, Miss Leigh, for those kind words,” said Peter.

  I looked at my watch, and said : ” I am going to ask you to excuse Alvean and me. It is nearly five o’clock and we have our studies between five and six.”

  ” And we must,” said Connan, “on no account interfere with those.”

  ” But surely,” cried Peter, ” on such an occasion there could be a little relaxation of the rules.”

  Alvean was looking eager. She was unhappy in her father’s presence but she could not bear to leave it.

  ” I think it would be most unwise,” I said, rising. ” Come along, Alvean.”

  She threw me a look of dislike and I believed that I had forfeited the advance I had made that afternoon.

  ” Please, Papa …” she began.

  He looked at her sternly. ” My dear child, you heard what your governess said.”

  Alvean blushed and looked uncomfortable, but I was already saying ” Good afternoon ” to Peter Nansellock and making my way to the door.

  In the schoolroom Alvean glared at me.

  ” Why do you have to spoil everything?” she demanded.

  ” Spoil?” I repeated. ” Everything?”

  “We could have done our reading any time … any time” — ” But we do our reading between five and six, not any time,” I retorted, and my voice sounded the colder because I was afraid of the emotion which was rising in me. I wanted to explain to her: You love your father. You long for his approval. But, my dear child, you do not know the way to make it yours. Let me help you. But of course I said no such thing. I had never been demonstrative and could not begin to be so now.

  ” Come,” I went on, ” we have only an hour, so let us not waste a minute of that time.”

  She sat at the table sullenly glaring at the book which we were reading. It was Mr. Dickens’s Pickwick Papers which I had thought would bring light relief into my pupil’s rather serious existence.