Thus at an early age I gleaned the hazy facts about my beginnings.
They intrigued me. I often wondered about my father, but he was never mentioned and I could discover nothing about him. Contemplating my past, I felt I had not been exactly precious to anyone. Perhaps Cousin Agatha wanted me in a way, though, but only because I was a little check mark on her calendar of virtue.
I was not the sort of child to brood. For some remarkable and fortunate reason—or so it then seemed—I had an infinite belief in my ability to get the best out of life, and Esmeralda at least was glad to have me as a surrogate sister. In fact she was lost without me. I could never be alone long because she would soon seek me out; she had no desire for her own company. She was afraid of her mother, afraid of the dark and afraid of life. In being sorry for Esmeralda I suppose I could be glad to be myself.
In the summer we went to Cousin William Loring's country house. What an upheaval that used to be. There would be packing for days and we would grow quite wild with excitement planning everything we would do in the country. We traveled in the brougham to the railway station and there followed the feverish bustle of getting into the train and debating whether we should face the engine or have our backs to it—an adventure in itself. We were accompanied by our governess, of course, who made sure that we sat erect on the plush seats and that I was not too noisy when I called Esmeralda's attention to the villages and countryside through which we passed. Some of the servants had gone on ahead and some would follow. Cousin Agatha usually arrived a week or so after we did, a blessed delay, and then she transferred her good works to the country instead of the town. The country estate was in Sussex—near enough to London to enable Cousin Agatha to go to town without too much effort when the worthy occasion demanded and Cousin William Loring could also attend to his vast business interests and not be altogether deprived of the fresh country air.
Esmeralda and I learned to ride, visit the poor, help at the church fete and indulge in the country activities of the gentry.
There was entertaining in the country as there was in town. Esmeralda and I were not as yet included in that, but I was vastly interested in it and I would sketch the dresses of the guests and imagine myself in them. I used to make Esmeralda hide with me on the staircase to see them arriving and watched with delight as they entered the great hall where Cousin Agatha, very stately, and Cousin William Loring, looking quite insignificant in comparison, received them.
I would drag Esmeralda out of bed and make her peer through the banisters at the brilliant array, sometimes darting to the head of the stairs so that had any looked up I should have been in full view of them. Esmeralda would tremble with fear and I would laugh at her, knowing that I should never be sent away because above all Cousin Agatha must boast of her goodness to me. I would caper round our bedroom and make Esmeralda dance with me.
It was in the country that I became really aware of the great importance of the Carringtons. Even Cousin Agatha spoke their names with a certain awe. They lived in Trentham Towers, a very grand house on a hill—a mansion—and Mr. Josiah Carrington was a sort of squire in the neighborhood. Like Cousin William Loring, he had big interests in the City and had a London residence—in Park Lane in fact. Nanny Grange had pointed it out to us on several occasions. "That's the Carringtons' Town Place," she said in hushed tones, as though it were paradise itself.
They owned most of the Sussex hamlet and the surrounding farms, and Mr. Josiah Carrington's wife was Lady Emily, which meant that she was the daughter of an earl. One of Cousin Agatha's great ambitions was to live on terms of familiarity with the Carringtons, and as she was a woman who only had to want something to get it, she did, after a fashion. Cousin William's Sussex house was pleasantly Georgian with gracious portico and elegant lines. The drawing room was on the first floor and as it was large and lofty with a beautiful molded ceiling it was ideal for entertaining. Here Cousin Agatha "received" every Thursday when she was "At Home" in the country, and the dinner parties and the balls she gave were very well attended. She would be most disconsolate if for some reason the Carringtons were not present.
She was very gracious to Lady Emily and claimed great interest in everything that lady did while Cousin William and Mr. Josiah Carrington discussed "the Market" with equal passion.
Then there was Philip Carrington, who was about a year older than I and some two years older than Esmeralda. Cousin Agatha was very anxious that he and Esmeralda should be good friends. I remember our going to the country in the early summer and meeting Philip for the first time. Esmeralda had been formally introduced to him in the drawing room; I had been excluded. Then Cousin Agatha had instructed Esmeralda to take Philip to the stables and show him her pony.
I waylaid them on the way and joined them.
Philip was fair, with freckles across his nose and very light blue eyes; he was about my height and I was tall for my age. He looked interested in me, for I could see he had already decided to despise Esmeralda and was put out because he had been sent off with a girl, and a puny one at that.
"I suppose you ride ponies," he said rather scornfully.
"Well, what do you ride?" I asked.
"A horse of course."
"We shall have horses later on," said Esmeralda.
He ignored her.
I said: "We could ride horses just as well. They're no different from ponies."
"What do you know about that?"
So we bickered all the way to the stables.
He scorned our ponies and I was angry with him because I loved my Brownie passionately, but it is true that I never felt quite the same about the poor creature after that. He showed us the horse he had ridden over on.
"A very small one," I pointed out.
"I bet you couldn't ride it."
"I bet I could."
It was a challenge. Esmeralda trembled with fear and kept murmuring, "No, Ellen, don't," as I mounted his horse barebacked and rode it recklessly round the paddock. I must admit I was a bit scared, but I wasn't going to let him score over me and I had the insult to poor Brownie to answer.
Philip mounted then and performed some tricks for us to admire. He showed off blatantly. He and I sparred all the time, but there was no doubt that we enjoyed the sparring. It used to upset Esmeralda because she thought we hated each other.
"Mama wouldn't like it," she told me. "Remember, he's a Carrington."
"Well, I'm a Kellaway," I said, "and that's as good as a Carrington."
Philip had a tutor that summer and we saw a great deal of him. It was then that I first heard of Rollo.
"What a silly name," I said, which made Philip flush with fury.
Rollo was his brother, who was ten years older than he was. Philip spoke of him with pride. He was about twelve then, so Rollo was twenty-two. He was at Oxford and according to Philip could do everything.
"A pity he can't change his name," I said just to plague him.
"It's a great name, you silly thing. It's a Viking name."
"They were pirates," I said scornfully.