“That’s wonderful.” She was now looking expectantly at Roland.
“Lucie and I will want to consider a few things,” he said. Phillida sighed and looked faintly... but indulgently... exasperated. It was typical of her that she would have liked Roland to have come to a decision right away.
“If you would like to look over it again...” said Mrs. Glenning. “That wouldn’t be necessary for me,” said Phillida. “Roland, you too. You love it, don’t you? I can see you do. It’s just what we had in mind. And it’s in the right spot. It’s even near the town, and of course there’s the station nearby so that we could easily get the train to London.”
“It certainly seems to fulfill our requirements.” Roland was looking at me, too, but I said nothing.
We had had tea and were preparing to leave. I was in the hall with Roland, and Phillida had gone back into the kitchen. There was something she wanted to look at again. Roland was talking to Mr. Glenning about the Adam doorway and I had moved a little apart. I heard Phillida’s voice. “I think it is almost certain. We love it ... my brother and I. My sister-in-law... she has been rather unwell. We feel we have to be careful.” There was a pause. A whisper.
Then Mrs. Glenning said, “Poor lady. I do hope she will soon be well.”
“We are going to make sure that she is,” said Phillida. “It is just a matter of a little care, I am sure.”
They came out and joined us, smiling brightly.
I thought Mrs. Glenning looked at me oddly, almost pityingly.
We said good-bye and Roland promised them that he would be in touch very soon. When we reached Gray Stone House, it looked even more grim than ever in comparison with the house we had just seen.
“What a difference!” said Phillida. “I do hope we don’t have to stay here much longer. I thought the house was lovely. Just what we wanted. What didn’t you like about it, Lucie?”
“I ... I thought it was a fine house, too,” I said. “It’s just that I am uncertain about being here.”
“Still hankering after London and Manorleigh? Oh well, that’s understandable, isn’t it, Roland? You’ve always been there. Naturally you feel a little strange at first. But it will pass. When you are feeling better, you’ll see what a wonderful place it is.”
“Phillida,” I said firmly. “I am not ill.”
“Oh no, of course not. You’re just a little upset. You’re going to be perfectly well.
You’re going to love it here. Roland and I are going to look after you.”
I smiled faintly at her. It was ungrateful of me but I felt irritated.
That night I did talk to Roland.
We were alone in our room. Phillida had brought our nightcap and said good night.
I burst out suddenly, “Roland, I’ve got to talk to you. I’ve got to explain.”
“Yes?” he said. “Tell me what it is. I know something is on your mind. It’s not only the ...” He hesitated. He knew I hated it to be referred to as the vision or the ghost.
“It’s Joel Greenham.”
He looked at me in astonishment and I went on quickly, “Joel and I were engaged to be married. It was not official but it was understood between us. Then he went away and was reported dead. You see, that was why.... Every thing seemed hopeless. My father dead... Joel, too. I shouldn’t have done it, Roland. I should never have married you.”
“Lucie!”
“Wait,” I went on. “Listen to what I have to say. You see, Roland, I love Joel. I always have, ever since I was a little girl. It was only because I was so young that we were not already married. But we were going to announce our engagement on his return.”
“And now he has come back,” Roland said sadly. “I think I understand. You were convinced that you would never see him again and you were very unhappy. And you liked us ... you liked Phillida... and me. We got on so well together. We were happy together, weren’t we?”
I nodded.
“And,” he went on, “you would have been happier-if he had not come back.” It was true, I supposed. I had begun to be reconciled. I could picture quite a happy life ahead with Roland. I thought we should have children and they would have made up for a good deal. Phillida was my good friend.
“Perhaps,” I said. “But he has come back.”
“You have seen him?”
“Yes. When I was in London.”
“And he has talked to you... about us?”
“Yes.”
“What does he want?”
I did not answer and Roland went on. “I know what he wants. He wants you to leave me and go to him.”
There was silence. I looked at him miserably and felt I could never be happy, whatever happened.
“And you?” he went on.
“I ... I ...” I stammered.
He smiled rather wanly. “What do you want, Lucie? Don’t be afraid to tell me.”
I could not bear to answer.
“I love you very much,” he said.
“Yes. I know.”
“I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“You have always been so good to me. I can never forget that.”
“But you love him.”
“I am fond of you, Roland... and I should hate to hurt you.”
“The time we have been together has been wonderful for me. I don’t know whether I could let you go. But it is what you want. It is what you are asking me.” For a few seconds there was silence.
Then he went on, “I knew there was something. Ever since you have been back from London... before that even ... I thought everything was not well.” He stood up and went to the window and looked out. It was as though he could not bear to look at me.
I went and stood beside him. I looked down, half-expecting to see that dreaded figure. There was nothing... only the empty moorland. The wind had risen and it moaned like someone in pain as it ruffled the grass.
He turned to me and gripped my hand. “Lucie, don’t do anything rash, please.”
“Rash?” I repeated.
“Wait awhile. Think about this. Promise me you won’t do anything without telling me first. I do deserve that, don’t I?”
“Oh, Roland, you deserve the best... the best of everything. I wish ...”
“You wish things were different. Oh, so do I, Lucie. So do I. I think you could be happy here... with me. You couldn’t just walk out and leave me.”
“Not like that, Roland,” I said. “And I should always remember you... whatever happened.”
“It may not be the right thing for you, Lucie. I want you to be happy. That’s what I want most of all. But you must be sure that it is right for you.”
“Do you mean that if you thought it was right for me... you would agree ... ?”
“I don’t know. I can’t think clearly. It has been too much of a shock. It’s not your fault, of course. It’s circumstances. I want time... time to think. That’s it, Lucie. Give ourselves time. Let’s think about it ... talk about it. I don’t know whether could give you up. I know that it would be the good and noble thing to do and that I should... because it is what you want. I don’t know whether I am strong enough. I like to think that if I were sure it was the right thing for you, I would do it. But I am not sure, Lucie. I’m terribly unsure.”
“I know ... I know.”
“And, Lucie. I believe you are unsure, too.” He took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead gently. “Let’s think about it,” he said. “Let’s not make hasty decisions.”
I nodded. “Oh, Roland,” I cried. “I’m so glad I told you.”
“Yes,” he said. “So am I. Even in something like this it is better to know the truth.”
Roland went off next morning before I was up. I felt a certain relief because I had spoken to him. He, himself, had said it was better to know, and he was right. I wondered what he would do. He was a very unselfish man and I was sure that he meant it when he said that if he could convince himself that it was best for me, he would let me go. He would release me; he would give me the sort of divorce which Henry Farrell was giving Belinda - and that would leave me free to marry Joel. The thought did not fill me with the joy it might have done, since going to Joel would mean hurting Roland. I had grown to care for him and he dearly loved me. But perhaps he would find someone in due course, marry and have children. Phillida would make an excellent aunt. Perhaps she herself would marry. I wondered why she had not. She was attractive with her vivacity and her moderately good looks; she was always graceful and elegant. I had never seen her otherwise.