Mistress of Mellyn

by Виктория Холт

  She had lost her habitual enthusiasm; she was not even attending, for she looked up suddenly and said: “I believe you hate him. I believe you cannot bear to be in his company.”

  I replied: ” I do not know to whom you refer, Alvean.”

  ” You do,” she accused. ” You know I mean my father.”

  “What nonsense,” I murmured; but I was afraid my colour would deepen.

  ” Come,” I said, ” we are wasting time.”

  And so I concentrated on the book and told myself that we could not read together the nightly adventure concerning the elderly lady in curl papers That would be most unsuitable for a child of Alvean’s age.

  That night when Alvean had retired to her room I went for a stroll in the woods. I was beginning to look upon these woods as a place of refuge, a place in which to be quiet and think about my life while I wondered what shape it would take.

  The day had been eventful, a pleasant day until Connan TreMellyn had come into it and disturbed the peace. I wondered if his business ever took him away for long periods-really long periods, not merely a matter of a few days. If this were so, I thought, ,1 might have a chance of making Alvean into a happier little girl.

  Forget the man, I admonished myself. Avoid him when possible. You can do no more than that.

  It was all very well but, even when be was not present, he intruded into my thoughts.

  I stayed in the woods until it was almost dusk. Then I made for the house, and I had not been in my room more than a few minutes when Kitty knocked.

  ” I thought I ‘card ‘ee come in. Miss,” she said. ” Master be asking for ‘ee. He be in his library.”

  ” Then you had better take me there,” I said, ” for it is a room I have never visited.”

  I should have liked to comb my hair and tidy myself a little, but I had a notion that Kitty was constantly looking for one aspect of the relationship between any man or woman and I was not going to have her thinking that I was preening myself before appearing before the master.

  She led me to a wing of the house which I had as yet not visited, and the vastness of Mount Mellyn was brought home to me afresh. These, I gathered, were the apartments which were set aside for his especial use, for they seemed more luxurious than any other part of the house which I had so far seen.

  Kitty opened a door, and with that vacuous smile on her face announced : ” Miss be here, Master.”

  ” Thank you, Kitty,” he said. And then, ” Oh, come along in. Miss Leigh.”

  He was sitting at a table on which were leather-bound books and papers. The only light came from a rose quartz lamp on the table.

  He said : ” Do sit down, Miss Leigh.”

  I thought. He has discovered that I wore Alice’s riding habit. He is shocked. He is going to tell me that my services are no longer required.

  I held my head high, even haughtily, waiting.

  ” I was interested to learn this afternoon,” he began, ” that you had already made the acquaintance of Mr. Nansellock.”

  ” Really?” The surprise in my voice was not assumed.

  ” Of course,” he went on, ” it was inevitable that you would meet him sooner or later. He and his sister are constant visitors at the house, but” — ” But you feel that it is unnecessary that he should make the acquaintance of your daughter governess,” I said quickly.

  ” That necessity. Miss Leigh,” he replied reprovingly, ” is surely for you or him to decide.”

  I felt embarrassed and I stumbled on: “I imagine that you feel that, as a governess, it is unbecoming of me to be … on terms of apparently equal footing with a friend of your family.”

  ” I beg you. Miss Leigh, do not put words into my mouth which I had no intention of uttering. What friends you make, I do assure you, must be entirely your own concern. But your. aunt, in a manner of speaking, put you under my care when she put you under my roof, and I have asked you to come here that I may offer you a word of advice on a subject which, I fear, you may think a little indelicate.”

  I was flushing scarlet and my embarrassment was not helped by the fact that this, I was sure, secretly amused him.

  ” Mr. Nansellock has a reputation for being … how shall I put it susceptible to young ladies.”

  ” Oh!” I cried, unable to suppress the exclamation, so great was my discomfort.

  ” Miss Leigh.” He smiled, and for a moment his face looked almost tender. ” This is in the nature of a warning.”

  ” Mr. TreMellyn,” I cried, recovering myself with an effort, ” I do not think I am in need of such a warning.”

  ” He is very handsome,” he went on, and the mocking note had come back to his voice. ” He has a reputation for being a charming fellow. There was a young lady here before you, a Miss Jansen. He often called to see her. Miss Leigh, I do beg of you not to misunderstand me. And there is another thing I would also ask: Please do not take all that Mr. Nansellock says too seriously.”

  I heard myself say in a high-pitched voice unlike my habitual tone: ” It is extremely kind of you, Mr. TreMellyn, to concern yourself with my welfare.”

  ” But of course I concern myself with your welfare. You are here to look after my daughter. Therefore it is of the utmost importance to me.”

  He rose and I did the same. I saw that this was dismissal.

  He came swiftly to my side and placed his hand on my shoulder.

  ” Forgive me,” he said. ” I am a blunt man, lacking in those graces which are so evident in Mr. Nansellock. I merely wish to offer you a friendly warning.”

  For a few seconds I looked into those cool light eyes and I thought I had a fleeting glimpse of the man behind the mask. I was sobered suddenly and, in a moment of bewildering emotion, I was deeply conscious of my loneliness, of the tragedy of those who are alone in the world with no one who really cares for them. Perhaps it was self-pity. I do not know. My feelings in that moment were so mixed that I cannot even at this day define them.

  ” Thank you,” I said; and I escaped from the library back to my room.

  Each day Alvean and I went to the field and had an hour’s riding. As I watched the little girl on Buttercup I knew that her father must have been extremely impatient with her, for the child, though not a born rider perhaps, would soon be giving a good account of herself.

  I had discovered that every November a horse show was held in Mellyn village, and I had told Alvean that she should certainly enter for one of the events.

  It was enjoyable planning this, because Connan TreMellyn would be one of the judges and we both imagined his astonishment when a certain rider, who came romping home with first prize, was his daughter who he had sworn would never learn to ride.

  The triumph in that dream was something Alvean and I could both share.

  Hers was of course the more admirable emotion. She wanted to succeed for the sake of the love she bore her father; for myself I wanted to imply: See, you arrogant man, I have succeeded where you failed!

  So every afternoon, I would put on Alice’s riding habit (I had ceased to care to whom it had previously belonged, for it had become mine now) and we would go to the field and there I would put Alvean through her paces.

  On the day we tried her first gallop we were elated.

  Afterwards she returned to the stables with me and I watched her run on ahead after we had left the horses there. Every now and then she would jump into the air a gesture, I thought, of complete joyousness.

  I knew she was seeing herself at the show anticipating that glorious moment when her father stared at her in astonishment and cried: ” You . Alvean! My dear child, I am proud of you.”

  I was smiling to myself as I crossed the lawn in her wake. When I entered the house she was nowhere to be seen, and I pictured her taking the stairs several at a time.

  This was more like the normal, happy child I intended her to become.

  I mounted the first flight of stairs and came to a dark landing, when there was a step on the next flig
ht, and I heard a quick gasp and voice which said: ” Alice!”

  For a second my whole body seemed to freeze. Then I saw that Celestine Nansellock was standing on the stairs; she was gripping the banisters and was so white that I thought she was going to faint.

  I understood. It was she who had spoken. She had seen me in Alice’s riding habit and she believed in that second that I was Alice . or her ghost.

  ” Miss Nansellock,” I said quickly to reassure her, ” Alvean and I have been having a riding lesson.”

  She swayed a little; her face had turned a greyish colour.

  ” I’m sorry I startled you,” I went on.

  She murmured: ” For the moment I thought ” ” I think you should sit down, Miss Nansellock. You’ve had a shock.” I bounded up the stairs and took her arm. ” Would you care to come into my bedroom and sit down awhile?”

  She nodded, and I noted that she was trembling.

  ” I am so sorry to have upset you,” I said as I threw open the door of my room. We went in, and I put her gently into a chair.

  ” Shall I ring for brandy?” I asked.

  She shook her head. ” I’m all right now. You did startle me, Miss Leigh. I see now it is the clothes.”

  ” It is a little dark on that landing,” I said.

  She repeated: ” For the moment, I thought….” Then she looked at me again, fearfully, perhaps hopefully. I believed she was thinking that I was an apparition which had assumed the face of Martha Leigh, the governess, and would change at any moment.

  I hastened to reassure her. ” It’s only these clothes,” I said.

  ” Mrs. TreMellyn had a habit exactly like that. I remember the collar and cuff’s so well. We went riding together … only a day or so before … You see, we were great friends, always together, and then..” She turned away and wiped her eyes.

  ” You thought I was Mrs. TreMellyn returned from the dead.” I said. ” I understand.”

  ” It was so foolish of me. It seems so odd that you should have a riding habit … so exactly like hers.”

  ” This was hers,” I said.

  She was startled. She put out a hand and touched the skirt. She held it between thumb and forefinger and her eyes had a hazy look as though she were staring into the past.

  I went on quickly: “I have to give Alvean riding lessons, and I lacked the suitable clothes. The child took me to what I now know to have been her mother’s apartments, and found this for me. I asked Mrs. Polgrey if it were in order for me to wear it and she assured me that it was. “

  ” I see,” said Celestine. ” That explains everything. Please don’t mention my folly, Miss Leigh. I’m glad no one else saw it.”

  ” But anyone might have been startled, particularly as” — ” As what?”

  ” As there seems to be this feeling about Alice … about Mrs. TreMellyn. “

  ” What feeling?”

  ” Perhaps there isn’t a feeling. Perhaps it is my imagination only, but I did imagine that there was a belief in the house that she was not at rest.”

  ” What an extraordinary thing to say! Why should she not be at rest?

  Who told you this? “

  ” I … I’m not sure,” I floundered. ” Perhaps it is merely my imagination. Perhaps no one suggested anything, and the idea just came to me. I’m sorry that I upset you.”

  ” You must not be sorry. Miss Leigh. You have been kind to me. I feel better now. She stood up. ” Don’t tell anyone I was so silly. So you are giving Alvean riding lessons. I am glad. Tell me, are you getting along with her better now? I fancied, when you arrived, that there was a little antagonism . on her part. “

  ” She is the kind of child who would automatically be antagonistic to authority. Yes, I think we are becoming friends. These riding lessons have helped considerably. By the way, they are secret from her father.”

  Celestine Nansellock looked a little shocked, and I hurried on: ” Oh, it is only her good progress which is a secret. He knows about the lessons. Naturally I asked his permission first. But he does not realise how well she is coming along. It is to be a surprise.”

  ” I see,” said Celestine. ” Miss Leigh, I do hope she is not over-strained by these lessons.”

  ” Strained? But why? She is a normal healthy child.”

  “She is highly strung. I wonder whether she has the temperament to make a rider.”

  ” She is so young that we have a chance of forming her character, which’ will have it’s effect on her temperament. She is enjoying her lessons and is very eager to surprise her father.”

  ” So she is becoming your friend. Miss Leigh. I am glad of that. Now I must go. Thank you again for your kindness. And do remember … not a word to anyone.”

  ” Certainly not, if it is your wish.”

  She smiled and went out.

  I went to the mirror and looked at myself I’m afraid this was becoming a habit since I had come here and murmured:

  ” That might be Alice … apart from the face.” Then I half closed my eyes and let the face become blurred while I imagined a different face there.

  Oh yes, it must have been a shock for Celestine.

  And I was not to say anything. I was very willing to agree to this. I wondered what Connan TreMellyn would say if he knew that I was going about in his wife’s clothes and frightened practical people like Celestine Nansellock when they saw me in dim places.

  I felt he would not wish me to continue to look so like Alice. So, since I needed Alice’s clothes for my riding lessons with Alvean, and since I was determined they should continue, that I might have the pleasure of saying, I told you so! to Alvean’s father, I was as anxious as Celestine Nansellock that nothing should be said about our encounter on the landing.

  A week passed and I felt I was slipping into a routine. Lessons in the schoolroom and the riding field progressed favourably. Peter Nansellock came over to the house on two occasions, but I managed to elude him. I was deeply conscious of Connan TreMellyn’s warning and I knew it to be reasonable. I faced the fact that I was stimulated by Peter Nansellock and that I could very easily find myself in a state of mind when I was looking forward to his visits. I had no-intention of placing myself in that position for I did not need Connan TreMellyn to tell me that Peter Nansellock was a philanderer.

  I thought now and then of his brother Geoffry, and I concluded that Peter must be very like him; and when I thought of Geoffry I thought also of Mrs. Polgrey’s daughter of whom she had never spoken; Jennifer with the ” littlest waist you ever saw,” and a way of keeping herself to herself until she had lain in the hay or the gillyflowers with the fascinating Geoffry—the outcome of which had been that one day she walked into the sea.

  I shivered to contemplate the terrible pitfalls which lay in wait for unwary women. There were unattractive ones like myself who depended on the whims of others for a living; but there were those even more unfortunate creatures, those who attracted the roving eyes of philanderers and found one day that the only bearable prospect life had to offer was its end.

  My interest in Alvean’s riding lessons and her father’s personality had made me forget little Gillyflower temporarily. The child was so quiet that she was easily forgotten. Occasionally I heard her thin reedy voice, in that peculiar off-key singing out of doors or in the house. The Polgreys’ room was immediately below my own, and Gillyflower’s was next to theirs, so that when she sang in her own room her voice would float up to me.

  I used to say to myself when I heard it: If she can learn songs she can learn other things.

  I must have been given to day-dreams, for side by side with that picture of Connan TreMellyn, handing his daughter the first prize for horse-jumping at the November horse show and giving me an apologetic and immensely admiring and appreciative glance at the same time, there was another picture. This was of Gilly sitting at the schoolroom table side by side with Alvean, while I listened to whispering in the background:

  ” This could never ha
ve happened but for Miss Martha Leigh. You see she is a wonder with the children. Look what she has done for Alvean . and now for Gilly.”

  But at this time Alvean was still a stubborn child and Gilly flower elusive and, as the Tapperty girls said: ” With a tile loose in the upper story.”

  Then into those more or less peaceful days came two events to disturb me.

  The first was of small moment, but it haunted me and I could not get it out of my mind.

  I was going through one of Alvean’s exercise books, marking her sums, while she was sitting at the table writing an essay; and as I turned the pages of the exercise book a piece of paper fell out.

  It was covered with drawings. I had already discovered that Alvean had a distinct talent for drawing, and one day, when the opportunity offered itself, I intended to approach Connan TreMellyn about this, for I felt she should be encouraged. I myself could teach her only the rudiments of the art, but I believed she was worthy of a qualified drawing teacher.

  The drawings were of faces. I recognised one of myself. It was not bad. Did I really look as prim as that? Not always, I hoped. But perhaps that was how he saw me. There was her father . several of him. He was quite recognisable too. I turned the page and this was covered with girls’ faces. I was not sure who they were meant to be.

  Herself? No . that was Gilly, surely. And yet it had a look of herself.

  I stared at the page. I was so intent that I did not realise she had leaned across the table until she snatched it away.

  ” That’s mine,” she said.

  ” And that,” I retaliated, ” is extremely bad manners.”

  ” You have no right to pry.”

  ” My dear child, that paper was in your arthmetic book.”

  ” Then it had no right to be there.”

  ” You must take your revenge on the paper,” I said lightly. And then more seriously: ” I do beg of you not to snatch things in that ill-mannered way.”

  ” I’m sorry,” she murmured still defiantly.

  I turned back to the sums, to most of which she had given inaccurate answers. Arithmetic was not one of her best subjects. Perhaps that was why she spent so much of her time drawing faces instead of getting on with her work. Why had she been so annoyed? Why had she drawn those faces which were part Gilly’s, part her own? “