His eyes were on Christobel.
"My dear child," he said, as she went to him and put her arms about him, "you have come. I knew God would answer my prayers."
"Yes, I am here. Father, and I shall be here for a while, I think."
"Bless you, my child."
"I must introduce you to Mistress Kate Standish, my pupil. Kate, this is my father. Sir Harold Carew."
He took my hands in his and held them firmly while he looked into my face. I immediately began to think of all the little sins I might have committed, for I felt that, being so good, he would be aware of them ... even those which I might not know were sins. Good people were always so very much more aware of sins than people like myself.
"May God bless you, my child," he said.
"You are well, Father?" asked Christobel.
"God has been good to me."
Kirkwell came in. I was very pleased to see him. I was completely at a loss to know what was expected of me.
Christobel seemed a little uneasy too.
But Kirkwell said: "Is it not fortunate that we have Christobel back with us. Father?"
"God has seen fit to give her back to us."
"Well, we never really lost her," said Kirkwell.
"Indeed, God has been good."
It seemed that God must be everpresent for Christobel's father.
I was quite unprepared for this. I wished Christobel had told me what to expect. I wondered how I should address him if the need arose. I understood he was Sir Harold.
Kirkwell seemed to be aware of my uncertainty. He said: "Is this your first visit to this part of the country. Mistress Kate?"
I told him it was.
"Christobel must take you round the neighborhood. It is a very beautiful part of the country—but perhaps we think so because it is our native heath. However, Christobel should certainly show you some of our beauty spots. The Quantock Hills are a delight, and she should take you to Bridgwater and Taunton and most certainly to Sedgemoor. On Sedgemoor you can see for miles— the Quantocks to the south and the Bristol Channel to the north, and the Mendip Hills. There will be plenty for you to see."
"It sounds delightful," I replied. "I shall look forward to it."
"I have plans for her," said Christobel.
Sir Harold, who did not appear to have been listening to this conversation, said suddenly: "You must visit the church in Crantock close by here. It is a beautiful old place. It is sad that it is no longer used for the celebration of the true faith."
Kirkwell said that he had work to do and should get back to it. He had high hopes of restoring the barns and they were going to be very useful when they could be put to the use for which they were intended.
We left with him.
Christobel said to Kirkwelclass="underline" "He has not changed."
"No, he becomes more and more immersed in his religion and of course, is becoming obsessed. He thing: the return to Rome. I do not like it. I am a little ^..s.^. Father Greville has spent a great deal of time about here." He shrugged his shoulders, 'if only our father would have other interests. The estate, for instance"
Christobel sighed. By this time we had descended to the hail and there laid out v^^as a flask of wine with some oat cakes.
Carrie appeared.
"I thought you would like something to refresh yourselves with. We do not want the young lady to think we do not know how to look after our guests."
She smiled at me. I liked her. I had been a little depressed by the old man and his constant references to God.
The wine was fruity and the cakes were good. I liked Kirkweil. and I thought how different he and Christobel were from their father.
I suppose it was because they regarded me as a child that they talked freely before me.
"Is it improving?" asked Christobel earnestly.
Kirkweil smiled. *T think I may say it is. It is a great challenge. Chris. But things are beginning to work out a little to our advantage. Crops were quite good this year on the home farm. I've been able to take on a new man.''
"Oh, that is good news."
"He is quite a good worker. He does all sorts of odd jobs, which is what I need. He has firm religious beliefs."
"He should get on w^ll with Father."
"Alas, his are on the opposite side. He is one of the old Puritans, I think. In any case, he is a firm Protestant. He is very disturbed that the King might die and the Duke of York become King, in which case he might bring back the Catholic rule. He is quite fierce. I avoid getting into conversation with him. I saw him give Father Greville quite a murderous look the other day. He '.va^ ra>^:r.g outside the house when Father Greville had been visiting."
"Oh, dear. I'll look out for him. What is his name?"
"Isaac Xapp. He is quite a good worker. I think I was lucky to find him."
"Kirk. I am so glad things are getting better. Do you think you are going to save the old place so that we do not have to lose it?"
"I am determined to. But we are forgetting Mistress Kate," he said. He turned to me. "Christobel has probably told you about the troubles we are having here. In any case, it must be obvious. You see, everything here has been rather neglected. Our grandfather was a gambler and that was not good for the place. Our father is no gambler, but he never had any great interest in it. He ought to have gone into the Church. That is why we talk about it so much."
I said: "But you are going to put that right."
He laughed. "Mistress Kate, I like you. I like you very much. You believe in me, do you not? That is what I say: I am going to make it right. And I shall."
He smiled at me in such a friendly fashion that I felt very happy.
Soon after that we left and we rode back to the Dower House. I had been very interested to meet Christobel's family.
There was much to claim my attention during those first days at the Dower House. It was managed with the utmost efficiency by Isabel Longton, who kept her two maids, Daisy and Annie, in the same good order as she did the house. She gave no indication that this was not the most conventional of households.
My half-brother Luke was as interested in me as I was in him. He was intrigued by my theatrical background and wanted to hear more about my mother and Maggie and the house in London.
He told me his mother had been a companion to Lady Rosslyn. When Luke's existence was discovered, our father had set her up in a house in Bridgwater, where Luke had been born. He remembered her with sadness. She had been gentle and beautiful, according to him. When he was only five years old, he had come into the house and found her sitting in a chair, staring ahead of her. She did not speak to him. In fact, she never spoke to him again. She had had a heart attack and died a few hours after he found her.
He remembered that day as the blackest in his life.
He looked very sad, even as he told me, and I could picture that poor bewildered child who had lost the one he cared for most in the world. It was worse because he could not understand what had happened. Someone told him she had gone to stay with the angels and he had wanted to know why she had not taken him with her. She had always taken him everywhere before. And when would she come back? He was frightened and even angry with her for leaving him.
"For the next five years I lived on a farm. There were other children. I thought I was dead and had descended into Hell. And then I began to understand what had happened.
''I was a serious boy, I think. I suppose that, with that having happened, one might become serious. There were other children on the farm—the children of the farmer and his wife. It v^-as not that they were unkind to me, but I knew I was not one of them. I was the outsider. While I was on the farm my father came to see me once or twice. I know now that he kept a watch on me, but he did not often come to see me. I did not know he was my father then. He seemed a very important gentleman, and when he came there was always a great deal of fuss on the farm. Everything was polished and the best they had brought out. I suppose the money for my keep was important to them.