"She is anxious about you. I think she would be happier if you came to me."
I stared at him in amazed horror.
He said: "She would miss you, of course. But she is worrying about you all the time. If you came to me, you could visit her. I come to London. I would bring you to see her. She would know that your future was assured and that you were living in a manner suitable for my daughter. Christobel would come with you. Talk to Maggie about it. You will see that I am right."
I did talk to Maggie. I said: "My father and Christobel are saying that you are anxious about me. Maggie, I will not leave you unless you do not want me to stay."
"Dear Kate," she said, "indeed I want you to stay. But you see how it is with me. I find it more and more difficult to get about. Martha is so good to me. But as the days pass I grow more and more feeble. It would be a relief to know that you are in a good home."
"This is my home," I said.
"And always will be. Your father says that if you go to him, when he comes to London he will bring you here and your old room will be ready for you."
"Is that what you want, Maggie?"
"Yes. Because it is what is best for us all."
"But we have always been together, you and I."
"And I shall always be there. You can always come to me. But sometimes in life we have to make decisions and, when it is an important one, it is very necessary to make the right one. Think about it."
I did think about it. Every day Christobel warned me of what I was missing. She had educated me beyond most girls of my age, but I needed to be in different surroundings. "Background," she called it. It was very necessary to a girl's upbringing. I was undecided. I wavered continually. The prospect of going to entirely new surroundings excited me. There were days when I said to myself: I will go. It is what they all think is best, even Maggie. But is that more for my sake than hers? They all thought I should go. Even Martha. She said to me: "You know. Mistress Maggie frets about you. She'd miss you something terrible, but in her heart she'd be relieved. Jane and me, we'll see she's all right, and you could get word to her how you're getting on."
Then I would think of Maggie, alone, sitting in her chair, thinking of that Kitty of whom I had heard so much, and Mother ... both gone. And now I, too, was thinking of leaving her.
There was a great deal of talk at that time. It appeared that one August day, when the King was walking in St. James's Park with his spaniels and a few companions, a man named Christopher Kirby presented him with a paper stating that a Popish plot was afoot. The Jesuits were offering ten thousand pounds to anyone who would kill the King. His assassination was to be followed by a massacre of Protestants so that Catholic rule could be reestablished in England.
The King might shrug this aside, but within a few weeks the Popish Plot was being discussed everywhere and the names of Titus Oates and Israel Tonge, who claimed to have discovered this plot, were on everyone's lips.
There was a great fuss about all this. People stood about in the streets, but I was too concerned with my own affair to pay much attention to it.
Autumn would soon be with us. The days were growing shorter. The streets were full of protesters against the Papists, and, as Martha said, there were many villainous people about, taking advantage of the unrest generated by the Popish Plot.
Maggie said to me one day at the end of September. "Kate, I think it would be best if you delayed no longer your going to your father."
"Maggie, is that what you really want?"
"You know I love to have you here, but I am anxious about you. Your father deceived your mother, but I think he wishes to make up for what he did. We all make mistakes in life. I think he is fond of you, Kate. He can look after you as I cannot. He can do so much more for you."
"I can look after myself and you, Maggie."
"I know, my dear child, and I shall never forget how you have clung to me since ... since we lost your mother. But it is an anxiety to me, Kate. I think I should be happier knowing that you were having the sort of life that is due to you."
I was silent.
I tried to suppress a certain exultation which insisted on rising within me. Maggie was helping me to convince myself that I must go.
And I knew it was what I wanted.
And so I came to the Rosslyn Dower House.
Christobel could not conceal her pleasure as we traveled westwards on our way to Somerset. It was, after all, her home. This was what she had always thought would be right for me.
I had been very sad to leave Maggie, and the house where I had lived all my life. But it was now full of sad memories and, as Christobel said, I had to grow away from that. I must not go on grieving forever. It was the last thing my mother would have wanted.
My father had sent a coach in which we were to make the journey. It was drawn by four horses and there was the driver and another whose place was at the back of the coach. There was an outrider too, who rode on ahead, to make sure that the road was adequate for the coach and to spot any lurking highwaymen. The outrider carried a blunderbuss and sword. These men were not only our protectors but our servants. We stayed at inns every night and they made sure that there was cheese and cake, wine and beer in the coach, in case we should have some mishap and be unable to reach an inn by nightfall.
It took us more than a week to reach our destination, a week of new adventures and excitement for me. It stopped my brooding constantly on having left Maggie, which I would otherwise have done. It was my first experience of the hazards and adventures of traveling.
In due course we arrived at the Dower House. It was some hundred years old—a red brick building with creeper-covered walls. It was close to the gate leading to the Rosslyn estate, of which the Dower House was only a very small part, but to my eyes it was very grand.
Stiff and fatigued after long hours in the coach, we alighted.
The door was opened by a plump lady dressed in a blue and white wool gown.
"Welcome, welcome to Rosslyn Dower," she said. "I am Isabel Longton. I look after everything in the Dower House. We have been expecting you for the last two days. Ah, these journeys ... I trust that yours was not too exhausting. And no need to ask if it was a safe journey, for here you are. So, you are Kate and, of a surety, I know Christobel. Come along in. I have ordered mulled wine to be sent down for you when you arrived. First of all you will need a warming drink ... and something to eat, I'll swear. The others will be down to greet you as soon as they hear you have arrived. Bring in the baggage, Jim. You must be chilled ... they will have something for you in the kitchens."
She went on: "Christobel, I have put you in the room next to Kate's since you will be staying here and you two will be working together."
"Thank you. Mistress Longton," said Christobel. "That will be very pleasant."
"I dare say you will be wanting to ride over to Featherston to see your family very soon."
"I thought of going tomorrow."
"Oh, yes. They will be expecting you soon, as they know you are on your way. You will want to introduce Kate to them, I dare swear."
"I think that would be a good idea. Do you not, Kate?"
"Oh yes, indeed," I said. "I am longing to meet them."
At that moment two men came into the room—one about seventeen, the other I imagined in his mid-thirties.
"Ah," said Mistress Longton, "here are Luke and Master Roger Camden. Master Camden is Luke's tutor. They are the best of friends, are you not, you two? And this is Mistress Kate Standish, who is coming to live here. You know Christobel, of course."
They bowed and regarded me with interest—as I expect I did them. I thought I should have asked Christobel more questions about this household, for she seemed to know them all very well, as I suppose she would, having lived so close.