"Perhaps March," he said. "How would that be? That gives you three months in which to prepare yourself."
"I don't need preparations," I told him. "I'm ready."
"I wonder what you'll think of my home."
"I shall love it."
"Do you always make your decisions before you have had time to test them?" he asked.
"Always where you are concerned," I retorted.
How happy we were and when I am with him I feel how foolish I am to entertain doubts.
It was different as soon as I went into the house. I dislike November. It is a gloomy month. I love the spring and the early summer, not so much because of the temperature but because of the light. In November it is almost dark by four o'clock. That is what I hate. It is such a long night.
It was about four-thirty when I came in and already I had to light a candle. They were kept in the hall and we took them as we came in. The servants collected them from wherever they found them and there was always a good supply waiting for use.
As I entered the corridor which led to my room that eerie feeling came over me. I soon knew why. Desmond Featherstone was standing at the end of the corridor.
I lifted up my candle as he came towards me and the light from my candle threw his elongated shadow on the walls. I felt my knees begin to tremble.
"Good evening," I said. I turned to my door but as I touched the handle, he was beside me.
I did not go into the room. The last thing I wanted was for him to come to my bedroom.
He came very close. "How nice to see you alone," he said softly.
"What did you want?" I asked curtly.
"Just the courtesy of a few words."
"Could you make them very few. I have much to do."
"Why are you so unkind to me?"
"I had no idea that I was. You are enjoying hospitality in my house."
"You are so beautiful... and so proud. Ann Alice, why won't you give me a chance?"
"A chance? A chance for what?"
"To make you love me."
"No amount of chances could make me do that."
"Are you determined to hate me?"
"It is not a matter of determination."
"Why are you so hard on me?"
"I did not think I was. I just have other things I must do."
Still I hesitated because I feared he would follow me in if I opened the door.
I said: "I must ask you to leave me now."
"Not until you have listened to me."
"I have asked you to say quickly what it is."
"You are very young."
"Oh, please, no more of that. I know how old I am and it is not so very young."
"And you know little of the world. I will teach you, my dearest child. I will make you very happy."
"I am happy, thank you. I don't need any lessons. Now, if you will go...
He was watching me ironically. He knew that I was afraid to open the door lest he should follow me.
"You are heartless," he said. "Just one little moment... dearest Ann Alice."
He put his arms out to take me in them and I was so horrified that I pushed him back. He was taken off his guard for a moment and fell against the wall. I opened my door quickly and went inside, shutting it behind me.
I stood leaning against it, listening. My heart felt as though it were bursting; my breath was coming in short gasps and I was trembling violently.
How dared he! Here in my house at that! He must go. I would tell my stepmother that I would not allow him to stay under my roof.
I pressed myself against the door. I had a notion that he might try to come in. How vulnerable I was! There was no key to the door. I had never felt the need of one before. There must be a key. I would never sleep in peace while he was in the house and my bedroom door unlocked. I believed he would be capable of anything... just anything. I must be on my guard.
I listened. I could hear nothing. He was silent-footed. I had said to Magnus: "He walks like a cat." And so he did.
No sound at all. All was quiet in the corridor. Still. I stood there. I was afraid that if I opened the door, I should see him standing there.
In time my heart began to beat more normally, though I was still trembling. Cautiously I opened the door and peered out. The corridor was empty.
I came in and put a chair against the door.
It was time to dress for dinner. In a short time one of the maids would bring up my hot water.
I moved the chair away from the door. I did not know what construction the maid would put on that if she found it there, but I could be sure that she would report to the kitchen and there would be conjecture.
How far away April seemed! Perhaps it would be March though. Even so it was a long time to wait.
He seemed quite normal at dinner and made no reference to that scene in the corridor. But then I supposed he wouldn't.
When I retired to my room that night I barricaded myself in. I knew if I did not I should never sleep.
The last thing I said to myself before I went into an uneasy doze was: "Tomorrow I will have a key made."
November 8th
I feel triumphant. I study the key lovingly. It represents security.
The first thing I did this morning was to go down to see Thomas Gow. He has a small cottage on the Green which he uses as a workshop. He ekes out a small living by acting as carpenter and locksmith and doing odd jobs in Little Stanton. There is a firm of carpenters in Great Stanton and I have heard it said that they get the best jobs and poor Thomas Gow the unimportant ones.
I went to him and told him that I wanted a key and asked if he could make one. He said he could, and I told him I wanted it quickly and must have it today.
That could be done, he said.
He came to my room and before the end of the day he called at the house with my precious key. He came up to my room with me and we tried it in the door.
I cried: "Oh, thank you." And I paid him twice what he asked.
He could not know how much that key meant to me.
Now I am about to go to bed and the last thing I am doing is writing in my journal. From my chair I can see my blessed key in the lock. It is turned, shutting me in.
I feel peaceful and secure. I know I shall sleep well tonight to make up for the wakefulness of the last.
December 1st
Christmas will soon be here. Time is passing slowly. I am so relieved that Desmond Featherstone is not here all the time. He goes to London frequently, but when he returns he comes to the house just as though it is his home. I have spoken to my stepmother about it and she always shakes her head and says: "He was a great friend of my family. There is nothing I can do... really." And she invariably added: "Your father always said that any friends of mine were welcome here."
I console myself. It is only three months to March. Magnus says that we should make the wedding the beginning of March. So it is getting closer. The thought is a great comfort to me.
In a way Desmond Featherstone's absences—although it is such a relief to be rid of him—in themselves create a tension. One is never sure when he will return and every time I go upstairs I think of coming across him in the corridor or some unexpected place. It is like being haunted by a ghost; and that is almost as bad as the reality.
Sometimes I wake in the night and fancy my door handle is being slowly turned. How thankful I am for my key! I am very grateful to Thomas Gow and have tried to find one or two jobs for him, and I have decided that when we have something which needs to be done, I will not go to the big firm in Great Stanton but give Thomas Gow the chance to do it.
I believe he is quite ambitious and he certainly is prepared to work hard. Such people should be given a chance to get on.
I had an unpleasant surprise today.
I had thought that Christmas would be celebrated in the usual way. When I suggested to my stepmother that we ought to set about making the usual preparations she looked horrified.