Carolan usually lost herself in this dream when she and her mother were together, even in the nursery with others around them. Perhaps, she thought now, Charles and Jennifer should come and she would say all the things she had wanted so many times to say to them; she would tell Jennifer that she was ugly, and Charles that he was silly. And they would not be able to do anything about it, because the cottage in which she lived with her mother would be a magic place and she only had to snap her fingers and two great dogs, breathing fire, would spring from nowhere and drive Jennifer and Charles away. Such a lovely cottage it was, with fruit trees all round it; and in the cottage it was always daytime. Only on very rare occasions should the squire come there, because she was frightened of the squire in much the same way as she was frightened of the dark. This fear was inexplicable, because she did not always want to run away from it. It called her to it, even as it terrified her. She always thought of George Haredon as the squire, because both her mother and Jennifer referred to him by that name when they spoke of bun to her. He was a colossus of a man; he wore the biggest riding-boots in the world, and his hands were not like human hands; they were covered in black hair like the hair he had on his face. And his black eyes had a lot of red in them which she could not stop looking at. Sometimes he would lift her on to his knee and caress her as though he loved her; he would stroke her hair. He had a hoarse voice; often he said: "By God, Carrie, you're going to be such another as your mother." His face would look very ugly when he said that, and he would put it so near hers that she could see each thick black hair of his eyebrows, and the red in his eyes formed itself into shapes like rivers on a map. Then he would say: "And if you are, girl, I'll break every bone in your body before I've finished with you!" which sounded very frightening coming from him, but was not meant to be perhaps, because he laughed when he said it. And sometimes he would kiss her in the hollow of her neck which Jennifer said was like a salt cellar, she being so thin and ugly, and sometimes he would put his great mouth on her eye so that she had to shut it quickly. A terrifying person, the squire. She hated the smell of him. Once she had wrinkled her nose, and he had said: "What does that mean?" And she had answered: "You have a horrid smell." And because she thought that might be very rude, she added: "The Squire!" She had called him that once or twice, as though it were his name, and it had amused him. But it did not amuse him then; he put her from him in a tantrum and strode away, and she hid herself thinking that if he found her he really would break every bone in her body. And next time he picked her up and set her on his knee, she made a great effort not to show that she did not like his smell.
But for all this he fascinated her, and sometimes she would deliberately get in his way just to see whether he would be angry with her or caress her; and either was equally terrifying to her. Aunt Harriet should come to see them at the cottage too, and she, Carolan, would call up the dogs that breathed fire, very quickly if Aunt Harriet was unpleasant, for Aunt Harriet could be very unpleasant. She had hard hands that hurt when she slapped, but Carolan did not mind that so much; it was Aunt Harriet's cold eyes and grim mouth that Carolan hated. They seemed to be holding a secret a horrible secret about Carolan.
But the dream of the cottage and its visitors and fire-breathing dogs was over, for Kitty was gently disengaging her hands and Jennifer was gripping her shoulder.
"It is time the children went now, Ma'am." Jennifer released Carolan, and going over to the mirror put on her bonnet.
Kitty thought how desolate Carolan looked, standing there. So much smaller than the others ... And was Jennifer kind? Margaret took Carolan's hand and pulled her to the door. It was pleasant to think of the older girl's keeping an eye on little Carolan, and Kitty had always liked Margaret. Now Carolan was looking over her shoulder at her mother, and her face puckered a little; she looked such a baby, scarcely her five years now, though one was apt to think her older at times; she was such an old-fashioned little thing. Kitty wondered whether she would give up her afternoon to the child, keep her with her. But no! She had an engagement. Besides, children were moody; you were apt to think them unhappy when they were just a little peevish. And, in any case, all the children had been invited to the rectory; it would seem rude if one of them stayed behind. So Kitty eased her conscience; if Jennifer was unkind to her, surely Carolan would say so. She watched Their getting into the carriage, and told herself how good it was to know that Carolan was being brought up with other children. Jennifer would not be different from what she was to the others; she would not dare.
The carriage rattled over the stony roads. Carolan began to bounce up and down on the seat for the sheer joy of riding along country roads in a carriage. Jennifer slapped her.
"Still. Miss.”
She was going to be the image of her mother, thought Jennifer; not so beautiful perhaps she would be darker for one thing and her eyes were green but those thick red-tinted lashes and that provocative tilt of the head, She had... what her mother had, and if one could believe the stories one heard, what her grandmother and great-grandmother had had too. Jennifer wanted to beat that small wriggling body, but what was the good. There would be trouble if she went too far in that direction; the artful little imp already had some sort of influence with the squire; Jennifer believed he was more interested in Carolan than in his own children. Sometimes he could not keep his mouth from smiling when he spoke of her. What witchery was this she had inherited, when at five years old she, the very sight of whom should have enraged the squire, could command a special indulgence?
"Now you must all be very good at the rectory," said Jennifer.
"You must not let your crumbs fall upon the floor. And when Mr. or Mrs. Orland speaks to you, you must answer up promptly and very respectfully. And if Everard should take you into the graveyard, you must be very quiet." She gripped Carolan's arm, for the child who had been staring out of the window before she had mentioned the graveyard, was now sitting up tense in her seat.
"Don't go prying around too much in the graveyard.”
Margaret, who was very matter-of-fact and without much imagination, said: "Why mustn't you pry round the graveyard? I can't see that it matters; everybody there is dead.”
"Hush!" said Jennifer, and looked at Carolan.
"The vaults are interesting," said Charles.
"Full of dead people!”
They put the coffins on shelves," added Margaret.
"So that one family can keep together," said Jennifer.
"I've heard stories about what happens in the graveyard at night; it would make your flesh creep to hear them!”
"They are like little houses," said Charles.
"Houses where the dead lie," said Jennifer.
"Now, Carolan. there is no need to look so frightened, Miss. Nobody is going to put you there. But mind you don't go prowling round where you should not go, and get shut in with the dead. A nice thing that would be!”
Carolan was white to the lips at the thought of it.
"Baby!" said Margaret contemptuously.
Carolan shut her eyes and tried to tell herself that she was not in the carriage at all, but in the cottage with Mamma.
"Sparks!" she murmured to herself.
"Rover!" For those were the names of the dogs which breathed fire.
The carriage had drawn up outside the rectory gates, and Mrs. Orland and Everard came out to greet them. Mrs. Orland was very gracious.
She was sure, she said, that Jennifer would like a chat with her friend, Mrs. Privett. Mrs. Privett was the housekeeper at the rectory, and Jennifer hated her. This was one of the humiliations which made her so angry. She might have been riding in her own carriage to pay a call, had her plans not gone wrong; now she was here in The role of governess, and Mrs. Orland's drawing-room was closed to her; she must go to the housekeeper's room and chat with that stupid Mrs. Privett whose talk was all of apple jelly and inferior servants.