"I wish it were next April."
"Perhaps we could make it earlier?"
"Oh ... could we?"
"Ann Alice, you are not really frightened, are you?"
"N ... no. I suppose not really. I expect I'm just so eager to start our new life together."
We laughed; we kissed; we embraced; and the times we spend together are always to me absolute happiness.
While I was writing that I heard footsteps on the stairs. I listened. There was a gentle tap on my door. I hastily thrust my journal into a drawer.
It was my stepmother.
"I knew you wouldn't be in bed yet," she said.
"You look pale," I told her. "Are you not feeling well?"
Even as I spoke I wondered whether she deliberately looked unwell. I knew there were mysterious-looking pots full of lotions and creams with which she treated her skin, and it occurred to me that she might be able to look pale or robust according to the mood she was in.
She touched her head. "I have headaches. It is since your father died. I should have guessed it couldn't have lasted. But he did seem better. I should have been prepared ... but it was a great shock when it came. I sometimes feel I shall never get over it." She smiled at me ruefully. "It is a house of mourning ... no place for a young girl."
"For me, you mean. But it is my home. He was my father."
"My dear Ann Alice, I know that when I first came here you resented me. You were so fond of Miss Bray, weren't you? It is always hard to follow on a favourite."
I was silent and she went on: "I have tried to do what I can. I think you also resented my marriage. It is understandable. Stepmothers are often not the most popular people, are they? How could they be—replacing a dearly loved mother? But I tried. Perhaps I failed."
I did not know what to say. I stammered: "You made my father very happy."
She smiled, looking like her old self. "Yes, I did that. And he has left me a sacred trust."
"Together with an adequate income, I believe."
She looked at me rather reproachfully. "I don't think of that. I think of you. I take this trust... very seriously."
"There is no need. I can't think why my father decided to make it. I am not a child any more."
"You are eighteen. It is not very old and you are a girl who has led a very sheltered life. He thought you were inclined to be impulsive, carried away."
"Oh, did he say that?"
"Oh yes. It was this sudden friendship with Magnus Perrensen which made him a little anxious."
"There was no need for him to be anxious," I said sharply.
"He was afraid that you might rush into something. After all you have met very few young men."
"I have met our neighbours frequently and some of them are young. Men have come to the house ..."
"A young man who has sailed the seven seas... who has even been shipwrecked. That is very romantic. Your father used to talk to me a lot about it. He used to say the Perrensens are a good family ... well-known map makers, known throughout Europe in fact, but Magnus is young... and so are you. Your father always said that if there was an engagement between you, it must be of long duration."
"That is absurd. We are not so young or stupid as not to know our own feelings."
"My dear Ann Alice, I think only of your good. You are so very young ... both of you ..."
"I am going to marry him. When he leaves, I shall go with him."
She was silent for a while, then she said: "Are you absolutely sure?"
"Absolutely."
She sighed. "I would rather see you married to someone more mature. You are high-spirited and need someone who can guide you ... someone with a firm hand."
"I am not a horse, Stepmother."
"My dear, I did not mean that. You must understand that whatever I say, whatever I do, it is only for what I believe to be your good. So you must forgive me for being frank. But... how well do you know Magnus Perrensen?"
"Well enough to tell me all I want to know."
"Do you know that Mrs. Masters' niece is staying at her house?"
"Mrs. Masters' niece? What has she to do with us?"
"A young woman ... living under the same roof. They would see a great deal of each other. And young men... well, they are only young men."
"You are suggesting that Magnus and Mrs. Masters' niece ..."
"My dear Ann Alice, I am merely telling you that you should know what people are saying."
I was stunned. I did not believe her.
She lifted her shoulders. "I hope I haven't said anything to upset you. I was only doing what I thought to be my duty. My dear Ann Alice, you really are very young. I know someone who is devoted to
you, and has been in love with you for a long time. A man who is older... and shall we say ... more steady?"
"I really don't know what you are talking about," I said.
"I was thinking of Mr. Featherstone."
"Mr. Featherstone! You must be joking. I don't like him. I have never liked him."
"Sometimes great affection starts that way."
"Does it? It never would with me ... and that man. I dislike him. And as you are being frank with me I will be equally so with you. What is he doing here? Living here... in this house. It is my house now. Why has he come to live here?"
"He is not living here. He is a guest. Your father was always hospitable and encouraged me to be the same. He said that all my friends would always be welcome in this house."
"Well, as he is a friend of yours, perhaps you can persuade him to confine his attentions to you. He always seems to be where I am and I do not like it."
"He is in love with you, Ann Alice."
"Please do not say that. I do not believe it. Nor do I want to discuss this man any more."
My stepmother put her hand to her eyes and shook her head.
"You must forgive me," she said. "I have spoken too freely. I am only thinking of your good."
"I am eighteen years old," I reminded her. "That is quite old enough to marry and to choose a husband for myself. Understand this, I shall choose whom I wish and no one ... no one ... is going to force me into marrying someone I do not want. I should never have allowed even my father to do that. Certainly no one else shall."
"My dear, forgive me. I see you are distraught. Remember, always remember, I only want to do the best for you."
"Then please do not speak of this matter again. It is distasteful to me..."
"I am forgiven?"
She came to me and put her arms about me. I laid my cheek against hers briefly. It was strange but I could never bring myself to kiss her wholeheartedly.
"Good night, my dear child, good night."
When she had gone I sat down by my bed and the words she had spoken kept ringing in my ears. Mrs. Masters niece!
"It is not true," I said aloud.
I thought: She is trying to stop my marrying Magnus. She is trying to force me into marrying Desmond Featherstone.
That could almost make me laugh and I should have done so if I could have forgotten Mrs. Masters' niece.
Then I took my journal again and am writing this in it.
November 7th
All is well. I am happy again. I knew I should be as soon as I saw Magnus and talked with him.
He laughed at me when I told him what my stepmother had said about Mrs. Masters' niece. Yes, she had a niece and she was staying at the house. I should go with him now and meet her.
So I did. She is a plump and friendly woman. She must be at least thirty-five. She is a widow and has a son who is away at school. She is what is called homely. There is nothing of the femme fatale about her. She is fond of Magnus as all the Masters are. It is clear to me that my stepmother's hints are completely without foundation.
We laughed over it when we were alone. I said: "She talks about long engagements... and I told her that was out of the question as far as we were concerned."