She had taken my mother’s hand; her eyes were closed. I thought she was going to burst into tears, but she did not.
My mother was faintly embarrassed by this show of gratitude. She said quickly: “I suppose you have some things which you will want to bring.”
“I have a few clothes at the Fisherman’s Rest. That’s all.”
“I’ll show you your room and then you can go to the inn and collect your things. You can settle in right away.”
“You are so kind … This seems too wonderful to be true.”
We took her up and showed her the rooms. In the sewing room was a big table at which Miss Semple had sat; and there were the dummies she used, and in the drawers of the table her cottons and tape measure just as she had left them.
She told us then that her name was Grace Gilmore, and that she hoped one day to repay us for all the kindness we had shown her.
That was how Grace Gilmore came to Cador.
There was a certain resentment below stairs where what was called “Interference from the Top” was not approved of; but my mother told them that Miss Gilmore was a genteel young lady who had fallen on hard times and she wanted them all to be as helpful towards her as possible.
Watson and Mrs. Penlock both agreed that they would do all they could to help “the young body” settle in and they implied that although it was Watson’s prerogative to engage staff, they did see that sewing was something outside his domain; so perhaps on this occasion it was not such a breach of household protocol as it had at first seemed.
Later that day, Grace Gilmore arrived with her personal belongings and was settled into the rooms at the top of the house.
She was very eager to begin work and we soon discovered that she was an excellent seamstress.
“We’ve been lucky,” said my mother. “And she is a lady, which is a help too. We must be very kind to her, poor girl. She has had such a bad time and she is really quite young. I have no doubt that she could help Miss Prentiss in some ways.”
I was pleased that we had been able to help her. Grace Gilmore interested me. There was something mysterious about her.
Benedict arrived at Cador. He was even more handsome than I remembered.
“Why,” he cried, “you’ve grown. You’re almost a young lady now.”
He laughed. I noticed that he had beautiful white teeth and his eyes were bluer than I remembered.
“I’m settling in now,” he said. “I’ll soon be as English as you.”
My parents greeted him with pleasure and in a few days he seemed to become part of Cador. He spent a good deal of time with my father. Jack was very taken with him and he was soon popular with the servants.
Whenever I could be with him I would. He seemed to enjoy my company. But of course he had come with a purpose and he was kept busy. He was full of enthusiasm for the estate; and when he was not with my father he seemed to be with John Polstark, our manager. He was very popular with all. I knew that in the kitchen they discussed him constantly, especially the younger and more frivolous maids.
“He’s what you might call one of them charmers,” was Mrs. Penlock’s verdict. “You girls want to watch out with them sort. They can be all nice words and smiles till they get what they want from you girls … and then it’s ‘Goodbye, I’m off now to the next.’ But she herself was not immune. She would simper a little when he was near. He was full of good will and if he did cast a sparkling eye on the younger and prettier of the girls, he did not forget the older ones either. He would give the same sort of attention to Mrs. Penlock herself—who admitted to being in her sixties, but I was sure she had forgotten to add a few years for she had been at Cador when my mother was a girl and had not been exactly young then. He made everyone feel that there was something special about them which he found lovable. I supposed that was called charm.
I tried to discover what it was about him which had that effect on people. It was more than just his attitude towards them; he was the sort of man who wanted power and I came to the conclusion that that was the very essence of masculine attraction.
My mother talked to me about him.
“He seems to have a way of making himself known,” she said. “He has only been here a short time and he is making an impression.”
“There is something different about him,” I answered. “He’s unlike anyone else I know.”
My mother smiled. “He’s getting along with John Polstark and your father. They seem to think he will make a good estate manager.”
“What do you think Uncle Peter intends to do? Buy him an estate somewhere?”
“Probably … but for himself I should imagine. He’ll keep a firm hand on it and perhaps let Benedict manage it.”
“I shouldn’t think Ben would want that.”
“No. He’s like his grandfather, I daresay. He would want to have complete charge. It will be interesting to see what happens. They’re a strong-willed pair. By the way, Miss Gilmore is settling in well, I think. Don’t you?”
“She’s so grateful, it’s almost embarrassing.”
“Poor girl! I don’t know what she would have done if we hadn’t taken her in. She seemed pretty desperate. She has asked me for a day off.”
“A day off! So soon!”
“She’s got an old aunt who lives somewhere near Bodmin. She wants to go and see her and tell her that she’s settled and where she is and all that, I suppose.”
“I thought she hadn’t got any relations.”
“I don’t think she said that. Well, this is her father’s sister … and I daresay she is very old … as the father was. In any case I have said she may go.”
“Near Bodmin, you say?”
“She mentioned Lanivet.”
“That’s some little way.”
“She said she would be away one night and she was so grateful when I said that would be all right. I think she is going to be very useful. She’s made a very good job of that alpaca. You know I was very fond of that costume. I didn’t want to discard it, but the bottoms of the sleeves were so marked. She’s done something so that it doesn’t show. And she’s tightened up the skirt which was too loose. It almost looks like new. Dear old Semple was getting a little past it though she would never admit it. I don’t think she could see very well towards the end.”
“I think you are rather pleased with Miss Gilmore, Mama.”
“It is nice to be able to do a good turn to someone and find you’ve done yourself one too.”
“Is she getting on all right with the servants now?”
“I think they consider her something of an outsider.”
“Well, anyone who comes from the other side of the river is that.”
My mother laughed. “She is quiet and causes no fuss. I don’t know what goes on in the kitchen. It’s like the case of Miss Prentiss. They are so strict about levels of society that they are a little complicated to follow. She seems to have become quite friendly with Miss Prentiss.”
“Perhaps they both feel they can be friendly without upsetting the rules of protocol.”
“That must be so. However, she is going off in the morning.”
I often wondered about Grace Gilmore. There was an air of mystery about her which intrigued me. I did not mention it to anyone. They would say—or even if they didn’t say it they would think it—that I was daydreaming again. I imagined her life with the poor old rector—so feeble and demanding. I was sure she had waited on him, caring for him, living for him and letting her own life slip away.
My mother would say: “You are building up what isn’t there, Angel. That imagination of yours. … It’s all very fine but don’t let it run away with you.”
I saw Grace Gilmore going to the station to get the train. There was something purposeful about her. I smiled and wished her a good journey.