“It’s marvellous,” said Dora.
“It’s not a bad example of its kind,” said Paul.
Dora knew from experience that nothing put Paul in a good humour so quickly as being able to show her something. He was looking up at the house with satisfaction, as if he had made it himself.
“A pupil of Inigo Jones,” he began.
“Better bustle up if we’re going to make Compline,”said James. “So sorry.” He started off up one of the flights of steps. The others began to trail after him.
James stopped, looking down on them from above. “I suppose the newcomers would like to join us?” he said.
“Yes, please,” said Toby. This seemed to be the right answer.
Dora supposed that Compline must be some sort of religious service. At least this would put off the moment when she had to meet all those people, and the worse moment when she would be alone with Paul. She nodded.
Paul said nothing, following her silent and preoccupied.
Dora climbed the steps, trailing her hand upon the wide sloping stone banister. It was warm from the sun. She shivered slightly as she touched the house. In a moment she found herself upon the wide paved balcony under the portico. The tall doorway ahead of her led into a large hall. All was rather dark within, as no lights had been turned on yet. Dora followed James and Toby through the door, and got an impression of a great staircase, and of people hurrying through the hall and out by another door at the far end. There was a stale smell, like the smell of old bread, the smell of an institution.
A woman detached herself from the hurrying figures and came up to them. “I’m so glad you’ve arrived in time,” she said. “Welcome to Imber, Toby and Dora. We all use Christian names here, you know. I feel I know you both quite well already, I’ve heard so much about you!”
The woman, whom Dora could see now in the gloomy light of the interior, was a middle-aged broad-set person with a round freckled girlish face covered with fair fluffy down which gave her the appearance of an amiable lion. She had pleasant blue eyes and very long faded fair hair which she wore in neat plaits round her head.
“This is Mrs Mark,” said James.
“Would you like to retire anywhere?” said Mrs Mark to Dora.
“No, thank you,” said Dora.
At that moment Dora saw, over Mrs Mark’s shoulder, what looked like a rather beautiful girl who was hurrying after the other figures in the direction of the door. She was very slim and had a long downcast pale face, long heavy eyelids, and a weight of dark hair which she wore in a drooping bun. Lost tendrils of hair curled in a short straggly fringe upon her high forehead. She turned a little in Dora’s direction before she went through the door and smiled.
Dora felt an immediate twinge of displeasure. She realized that she had been assuming that if she had to decorate so uncongenial a scene she would at least be the only beautiful girl upon it. A woman of the appearance of Mrs Mark was quite in place here. But the figure she had just seen was disturbing, like a portent, menacing almost. Dora remembered that she had forgotten to smile back. The smile appeared on her lips a second or two after the girl had gone.
“Shall we go in?” said Mrs Mark.
She led the way, and Dora followed with Paul. Toby and James came after. James hurried forward to hold the door open and they passed into a wide corridor. Paul took hold of Dora’s hand, squeezed it hard., and continued to hold it. Dora was not sure if the pressure was meant as a threat or as a reassurance. She left her hand limp, resenting the hold, overcome with dejection.
A moment later they were stepping quietly into a large long room in which the lights had already been turned on. Three tall uncurtained windows with rounded tops opposite to the door gave a view over the park land, now darkened to a hazy twilight by contrast with the bright naked lights within. Dora blinked. The room was lofty and elaborately panelled. Its pink and white paint had faded to a dusty pallor, blanched now still more by the harsh glare. This, Dora conjectured, must have been the great drawing-room, or banqueting-hall perhaps, of Imber Court, now turned into a chapel. The wall at the end on her right had been completely covered by a curtain of royal blue hessian, fixed to the middle of which was a plain cross of light oak. Below it on a dais stood an altar covered with a white lace cloth and surmounted by a brass crucifix. At the side stood an elaborate metal music stand which served as a lectern. The body of the room was unfurnished except for a few rows of wooden chairs and a scattering of hassocks. A small number of people were already kneeling, and a strong silence, which because of the oddness of the scene seemed to Dora slightly dramatic, made her catch her breath.
James Tayper Pace crossed himself and knelt down at once near the door. Toby knelt beside him.
“We’ll pop you in at the back,” whispered Mrs Mark, and pointed Paul and Dora to the back row. Mrs Mark then slipped away to what was evidently her usual station near the front. They went to their places, setting their feet down carefully on the bare floorboards. The silence was resumed.
After a moment’s hesitation Dora knelt beside Paul. In the stillness she found that her heart was beating violently. She had released herself from Paul’s grip when passing through the door and now clasped her hands determinedly together in front of her. Resisting the pious atmosphere she threw her head well back and looked about the room. She saw now that the ceiling rose in the centre to a round lantern and what must be the inside of the green dome which she had seen from the drive. From inside it appeared quite small. Dora’s gaze wandered for a while among pale egg-and-dart friezes and pink scrolls and stucco garlands until it found its way back to the sober scene below.
Kneeling in the front row she could see a man in a black cassock who must be a priest, and near him she now made out with an unpleasant shock a shapeless pile of squatting black cloth that must be a nun. Behind them, in a group with James and Toby, there were three or four men. Mrs Mark was to be seen, kneeling very upright, her head covered by a crumpled check handkerchief which she must have whipped out as she came through the door. The dark girl whom Dora had glimpsed in the hall was kneeling nearer to the back, her face covered in her hands and bent very low. She had cast a scarf of black lace over her head and beneath it there appeared the black knot of her hair, glistening in the bright light. There were no other women.
Someone began to speak and Dora jumped guiltily. She listened, but could not follow what was being said. The speaker appeared to be the priest at the front. After listening for a little longer Dora realized that it must be Latin. She was dismayed and distinctly shocked. She had retained her prejudices when she lost her religion. A murmur of voices suddenly surrounded her, and a dialogue was begun between the priest and the congregation. Dora ventured a quick glance sideways at Paul. He knelt with shoulders squared and hands behind him, looking ahead and slightly upward toward the cross at the far end of the room. He had the solemn somewhat noble look which he often wore when he was thinking about his work, but rarely when he was thinking about his wife. Dora wondered whether, happily, his mind was turned to higher things, or whether the religious scene had wrought some change in his feelings. She must remember to ask him, some time when he was in a good temper, whether he believed in God. It was absurd not to know.
Dora suddenly noticed that the nun in the front row had turned round and was looking at her. The nun was fairly young and had a wide ruddy face and strong intent eyes. With the detachment from her devotional surroundings which can best be shown by those whose profession is devotion she scrutinized Dora with unsmiling objectivity for a moment or two. Hen she turned away and whispered something over her shoulder to Mrs Mark who was kneeling just behind her. Mrs Mark also turned round and looked at Dora. Dora felt herself becoming red with alarm. There was a cold familiar inevitability about these looks. With the resignation of one who had never in her life got away with anything Dora watched Mrs Mark get up and tiptoe round the chairs to the back so that she could lean over Dora’s shoulder. Dora twisted round, trying to hear what it was that Mrs Mark was now whispering in her ear.