Then he ran towards us and, putting his hands on Christobel's horse, laughed up at her.
He was not exactly handsome, but I thought he had one of the pleasantest faces I had ever seen.
He was laughing, showing good strong teeth, and his thick hair was in disorder. There was a smudge of dirt on his forehead; his eyes were light blue, and I think it was the expression of sheer delight which made him so attractive. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows.
"Kirk!" cried Christobel. "Oh, it is so good to see you."
"I heard you were coming but did not know you had arrived."
"This is my brother, Kirkwell," Christobel told me. "And this is Kate, Mistress Kate Standish."
He had turned his smile on me. "Ah, so at last we meet. I must tell you that I have heard a great deal about you."
I felt at a disadvantage. Christobel had never told me about him.
"And so you have come to the Dower House. Well then, we shall be neighbors. I hope you will be very happy here. My sister is a good governess—so she tells me."
"Kirk, I have told you nothing of the sort! It is Kate who is the good pupil."
"No, no," I said. "It is really Christobel who is the good governess."
"It seems to me a very happy state of affairs when you can both speak so highly of each other. Let us say you are both very good. Are you going to the house, Chris?"
"Yes. I did not know I would meet you here."
"I am working on this cottage. It's been neglected too long."
"Is our father well?"
There was a faint pause. "He is as ever," said Kirkwell. "He will be overjoyed to see you ... and Mistress Kate. We were not sure when you would arrive."
"It's good to be here. Kirk."
"It seems odd. You here ... and not with the family."
"Yes ... but I nearly am. I am home, really."
"You were so far away in London." He looked at me. "Are you going to enjoy the country, do you think. Mistress Kate?"
"It has all been very pleasant so far."
"Are you going home now?" said Kirk, turning to his sister. "I'll come with you. Wait just a moment."
He left us and went back to the cottage where he had been working.
"You did not tell me you have a brother," I said to Christobel.
"Did I not?" she said.
In fact, I thought, she told me very little. I believe now it was because she had come to us through my father and one of the conditions of her employment was that my mother should not know this. So it must have seemed wise to say as little as possible about herself. And now I was learning a great deal in a very short time.
Kirkwell had rejoined us. He was riding a strong-looking black horse.
"This is my home, Kate," said Christobel as a house came into sight.
I thought it was charming—more cozy than the great Norman fortress which was Rosslyn Manor. Featherston Manor was of red brick. There was a gatehouse and I was enchanted by the gables and turrets.
We alighted. Kirkwell said: "I'll take the horses. There's only old Tom in the stables nowadays with young Arthur to help him."
"Of course," said Christobel. "We'll go in. Father will be in his study, I suppose."
"I dare say."
We went into the hall. I was aware that it was rather shabby. Perhaps I noticed that after the perfection of the Dower House; and Martha had scrupulously attended to household chores in Maggie's house.
The walls were paneled from floor to ceiling with narrow oak planks carved in the pattern known as linenfold. I noticed that it was broken away in one or two places. The fireplace was high and open and there was a coat of arms as an overmantel.
It was beautiful, but in need of attention; even I could see that. I thought of the brother in the fields as a workman, and Christobel who had had to go into the world as a governess.
There was no doubt about it: the Carews were jx)or and this once-fine mansion must be a drain on their income.
"Miss Chris!" A woman had come into the hall. She was middle-aged and plump, with rather wispy hair straying from under the cap she wore.
With a cry of "Carrie!" Christobel threw herself into her arms. They stood holding each other for some minutes. They were laughing and nearly crying too. I stood still, watching them, sharing in the joy of their reunion.
"So, you are here at last. My little one, you're so thin! What have they been doing, starving you?"
"Well, you make up for me ..." said Christobel.
"You get away with you."
"And, Carrie, how is it? Is all well?"
I detected a note of anxiety in her voice. She had certainly told me very little. That and last night's outburst seemed to have shown me a different side to her part of it all.
She remembered me then and said: "This is Mistress Kate Standish, my pupil."
"You with a pupil!" It was as though Carrie was so delighted to have Christobel with her that she could not spare a thought for anyone else, but she reluctantly turned from Christobel to me. "Oh yes indeed, Mistress Kate." Her dark brown eyes, still misty from greeting Christobel, swept over me rather pityingly, I imagined. I wondered whether she knew of my mother's death and the truth of my unusual parentage.
"So, you've come to stay at the Dower House and Mistress Chris has been teaching you ... and is going on with it. Well, I never thought to see the day. Oh, here's May."
May, I discovered, was Carrie's niece who had come to help her and, as Carrie was very short of help in the house, her presence was necessary.
They talked for a while, not paying very much attention to me, which was natural enough. They were so pleased to have Christobel back.
Kirkwell came into the hall.
"Still down here?" he said. "I thought you'd be with our father."
"I had to see Carrie, and then May came ..."
"Of course, of course. I'll go and tell him you are here. I think he is with Father Greville."
"With whom?" asked Christobel.
"Father Greville's a priest. He is visiting this part of the world. He's been staying in this house for some days now. He is moving round the district ... visiting the faithful."
"So Father is still ..."
"As fervent as ever," said Kirkwell. "I'll go up now and come back for you if it is all right."
He left us, and Christobel said to me: "Our father is very much involved with his religion. He always leaned towards it. We were constantly having priests to stay. In fact, he was far more interested in his faith than in running the estate. It was a passion with him."
I thought what an exciting morning it was. I was learning so much that I did not know before. Christobel was like a new person to me.
She was a very unusual woman and seemed to pass through stages. She had come to me as a governess and I had known that, like so many of her profession, she had been brought up to be a lady and, finding herself in straitened circumstances, had had to join one of the only professions open to her. There was nothing particularly extraordinary about that; until she had been exposed as the spy of Lord Rosslyn. Now I was being introduced to a background of which I had been almost entirely ignorant, though I had known that it was an impoverished one, as it was because of financial shortcomings that she had been sent our way.
It was most intriguing.
Kirkwell returned. He said: "Father Greville has gone to his room and our father awaits you."
"Then we'll come," said Christobel.
I followed them up the stairs. We went through a small chapel. I noticed the lighted candles on the altar and the big statue of the Virgin Mary. There was a small room leading from the chapel and we went into this.
A man turned to us as we entered. He seemed old but I think he would have been no more than fifty. He was wearing a dark robe, rather like that of a priest. He gave the impression of not being a part of this world—rather as a monk might have been.