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“If you die, Gwennan,” I whispered, “you won’t go back to school, and your wish will be granted.”

I shivered. Then I noticed that her left leg was in a strange position, and I realized what had happened.

Dr. Trelarken arrived on the scene with two men who carried a stretcher. The doctor set the leg before Gwennan was moved, and then the men carried her back to his house in Grendengarth. The doctor walked with me and asked me questions.

He knew who we were because everyone in the district knew the Menfreys and Sir Edward Delvaney. He pointed out his house, which was a white one on the pretty green I had noticed when we rode through. My horse was taken from me by a groom, and as we went into the house he called: “Jess! Jessie. Where are you?”

“Coming, Father,” said a voice; and a young woman appeared in the hall. That was my first glimpse of Jessica Trelarken, who has always seemed to me one of the most beautiful women I have ever known.

She was tall and slender; her hair was dark, almost black, and her eyes a startling blue accentuated by the blue gown she wore. She must have been about nineteen then.

The stretcher was carried into a bedroom on the first floor, and the doctor attended to Gwennan. Jess helped him, and I was asked to remain downstairs. I was taken by a maid into a light and any room, pleasantly furnished in a conventional way, except for the painting over the fireplace of a very pretty woman who was like Jess but did not possess the same outstanding beauty. The air was scented by the flowers in a huge earthenware pot on the polished table by the window— purple buddleia and lavender, and pink cabbage roses.

I sat down and listened to the tick-tock of the grandfather clock, wondering how long it would be before I heard how badly Gwennan was hurt and gazing distractedly at my distorted reflection in the gleaming brass oil lamp which stood on the table beside the bowl of flowers.

It was about twenty minutes before the doctor appeared. Jessica was with him.

“I expect Miss Delvaney would like some refreshment,” he said.

“I am sure she would,” added Jessica, giving me that serene smile which I was to come to know so well.

“Gwennan?” I asked.

“Broken leg. I don’t want to move her just yet Nothing much. She took the bank too fast, I reckon, I’ve seen it happen at that spot before.”

“I should go to Menfreya at once,” I said. “Sugar Loaf will go back there. They’ll be frightened.”

“We’ve already sent to explain,” said Jessica. “I shouldn’t be surprised if someone doesn’t come over very soon.”

“And you, young lady,” went on the doctor, “have had a bit of a shock. Jess, ring for that wine and some of your wine biscuits to go with it. Well all have something.”

Jessica went to the bell; she moved with the grace of a jungle creature, which accorded oddly with her air of gentleness.

“And after that,” said the doctor, “you’ll be able to have a word with Miss Menfrey, I daresay.”

So I sat there in that scented room drinking wine with the Trelarkens, and all the time I was thinking: It’s a judgment. She decided she wouldn’t go back to school with me— and she won’t.

I missed her very much, but life went more smoothly without her. I worked harder than I ever had, and my teachers were pleased with me; I didn’t make friends with other girls; I had never found that easy, and as I was no use at games, I spent the time in study. This began to show results.

But when I received a letter from Gwennan I was conscious of a yearning to be with her. It was an exuberant letter.

She was pleased with life. She was getting her own way, which was what she always must have.

“My poor, poor Harriet, to think of you in that dreadful genteel Academy for Young Indies! What do you think? I am engaged to Harry. Of course there’s opposition. ‘Too young! Too young!’ they keep screaming at me. Mind you, the family want it—both families do—and so does Harry … madly. So it doesn’t make much sense waiting, does it?”

I smiled as I read that and thought: But if you don’t want to wait, Gwennan, then there’ll be no waiting. I read on:

“I did think of an elopement. That would have been fun, with Harry climbing the walls of Menfreya—the steepest part, you know where the walls and the cliff edge meet. One slip and down to certain death! But then I thought, no. A young woman—not a young lady, mind you; I have done with those repulsive things—must have a little time to look round. Well, they came up with this suggestion: One year in a finishing school during the engagement, and then wedding bells to ring in Menfrey stow. It appeals to me. I expect I shall be one of the few people who have ever gone away to school already engaged. So that is to be it I’m off to France— somewhere in the middle. Near Tours, where they speak the best French, so they tell me, because I have to come back speaking like a native. Part of the requirements of a woman of education, you understand.

“My bones have set perfectly, so Dr. Trelarken says. He was very pleased with my progress, and Bevil is very pleased with Jessica, his daughter. A pity he always chooses the most unsuitable people. Dr. Trelarken doesn’t seem to be one of the clever doctors who choose their patients with care. Hard work and gratitude seem to be this man’s reward. Very noble, but it seems the only dowry poor Jess will bring to her husband is her beauty.

“Then, of course, the war. Bevil was determined to go and fight the wicked Boer for Queen and country. You see, when he stands for Parliament he’d do so much better as a hero returned from the wars. Besides, Menfreys always rally to the cause. He was determined to go, but now I think he’s not so eager. It’s because of Jess. Perhaps he’ll many her before he goes off with Kitchener. There’s nothing like a war for making hasty marriages.

“Harry won’t go. He’s needed at home, he says; and so does his father. Business must go on.

“What a long letter this is. And I hardly ever write letters. It’s because my heart bleeds for my poor Harriet, who is not engaged to be married, who is not going to a finishing school in France, who is not in dear Menfreya but sitting at her study window, I’ll swear, looking out over neat lawns, her books before her, being such a good little girl now that she is not distracted by her wicked Gwennan.”

As usual, she had disturbed me; I could not recapture the peace I had been enjoying. I pictured it all; something exciting always seemed to be happening at Menfreya. I saw Bevil riding over to the Trelarkens, and Jessica coming out to stand on the porch. She would be wearing the blue dress I had first seen her in, with the white lace collar; she had been lovely then; now, being in love, she must be breathtakingly beautiful.

And Bevil was in love with her, and be would soon be leaving her to go to South Africa. Yes, be would want to many her before he went.

I thought of Bevil and the girl he had brought to the island. There must have been others in between her and Jessica. Many others. But Jessica was different. Young and inexperienced as I was, I sensed that, and I was depressed.

There was one more letter from Gwennan before she left for the finishing schooclass="underline"

“Harry’s people are taking over Chough Towers. He knows I’d never really feel happy away from Menfreya, so he says that Chough will be our home. I must say I like the idea. I am already planning balls I'll have in that perfectly magnificent ballroom. Your father’s lease was running out, so Chough won’t be your Cornish residence much longer—it’ll be mine. Of course, I shall invite you to stay. I’ll give you the room you now have. It will be fun, won’t it? But I’ll bet you’re wondering what your father is going to do. Hell have to have a place near Lansella, won’t he? We’re very pleased with your stern parent, Harriet. Do you know what he’s done? You’ll never guess. He’s taken the house on No Man’s Island. More than that, he’s bought the island from Papa. This is a marvelous stroke of luck for us. You know what a white elephant of an island it is. It’s just there, and what use is it— except for runaway heiresses to hide in, and dissolute young men to effect seductions! What dreadful company I keep! The point is, I had to be the first to tell you. No Man’s Island will soon be yours. You can imagine the improvements your father will make. It’ll be a palace on an island, I expect, before he’s done with it. Papa is absolutely delighted. He goes around rubbing his hands with glee. At last we have something to tide us over."