We were both with him when he died but his hand was in Lucie’s. I shall never forget the look on her face when she lifted it to me. It was as though she had lost everything she cared for.
“Lucie darling,” I said, ‘you still have Cilia. “
I led her to Druscilla’s room. It was nine o’clock and the child was asleep. Nevertheless I picked her up and put her into Lucie’s arms.
“Mamma,” said Druscilla sleepily and a little crossly.
And Lucie stood there tragically straining the child to her till I took Druscilla away and put her back in her bed. It was perhaps a rather sentimental and dramatic gesture but it did some good. Lucie braced herself and I knew she was realizing that she had Druscilla to live for.
Christmas came. Last year we had gone to Wakefield Park; this year the festivities should be held at Whiteladies. They could not be as lavish as they would be next year, said Stirling, because of my father’s death, but they should be worthy of the house. It must be understood that Whiteladies, not Wakefield Park, was the focal point of the neighbourhood.
Lucie had gone about like a ghost in her widow’s weeds. In fact they rather became her. Druscilla was nearly two; she had become imperious and demanding, the pet of the household. Lucie loved her passionately but refused to spoil her as I fear the rest of us did. I adored her and constantly longed to have a child of my own. Stirling wanted it too. He was always talking about our children’s playing on the lawns of Whiteladies.
Once I had thought I was pregnant and it had turned out not to be so.
I was very upset about that and determined that I wouldn’t say anything to anyone next time until I was sure. Lucie was always asking pointed questions.
“When you have a child of your own …” she would say. Once she said:
“Perhaps you want a child too passionately. I’ve heard it said that sometimes when people do they can’t conceive. It’s a sort of perversity of nature.”
When I told her about Stirling’s ideas for taking up the old Christmas ceremonies as we used to in the past she thought it a good idea.
“Whiteladies is the great house,” she said.
“Wakefield Park is an upstart. I think your husband has the right idea.”
I was glad that she was beginning to like Stirling and change her suspicions about the reason why he had married me.
“When you have your family you will probably want me to leave,” she said one day.
“What nonsense!” I cried.
“This is your home. Besides, what should we do without you?”
“It won’t always be like that. I am just the stepmother-not really needed.”
“When have I ever not needed you?” I demanded.
“I shall know when the time comes for me to go,” she said.
“I wish you wouldn’t say such a thing.”
All right. We’ll forget. But I’d never stay if I weren’t wanted. “
That was good enough, I told her. She always would be.
How Stirling enjoyed planning for Christmas! A great deal of the essential work had been done on the house and he took a personal pride in it; but there was much still to be done. He had already increased the staff. Now we had six gardeners and the grounds were beginning to look beautiful. There were always workmen in the house and some rooms were out of bounds because the floor was up or the panelling being repaired.
Two weeks before Christmas I was almost sure that I was pregnant. I longed to tell someone but decided not to. I didn’t want to raise Stirling’s hopes. Oddly enough. Lizzie guessed. She was dusting Druscilla’s room, which was one of her duties, and I had gone in to see the child, who was sitting on the floor playing with her bricks, so I knelt down and we built a house together. I couldn’t take my eyes from that small face with the delicate baby nose and the tiny tendrils of hair at the brow. I was thinking of my own baby when Lizzie said in that forthright way of hers: “So it’s like that, is it?”
“Like what?” I demanded.
Lizzie cradled an imaginary baby in her arms. I flushed and Druscilla cried: “What have you got there. Lizzie?”
Lizzie said: “You’d be surprised, miss, wouldn’t you, if I told you another baby. That would put Miss Cilia’s little nose out of joint, wouldn’t it?”
Druscilla touched her little nose and said: “What’s that?”
I kissed her and said: “Lizzie’s playing.”
“You couldn’t fool me,” said Lizzie. There’s always a way of telling.”
Druscilla impatiently called my attention to the bricks and I thought:
Is it true? Is there a way of telling?
Christmas had come and gone. The Christmas bazaar had been held in the newly restored hall of Whiteladies; Stirling had provided lavish entertainment free of charge, something which had never been done before. It was a great success and everyone enjoyed our new affluence.
We entertained the carol singers at Whiteladies and soup and wine and rich plum cake were served to them. I heard one of the elder members say that it was like old times and even then they hadn’t been treated to such good wine.
We had only a small dinner-party on Christmas Day because of our recent bereavement—just the family, with Nora and Franklyn; and on Boxing Day we all went to Wakefield Park.
The new year came and then I experienced the first of those alarming incidents.
That morning at breakfast Stirling was talking—as was often the case—about the work which was being done in the house.
They’ve started on the bartizan, he said.
“There’s more to be done up there than we thought at first.”
“Won’t it be wonderful when it’s all finished,” I cried.
“Then we can enjoy living in a house that is not constantly overrun by workmen.”
“Everything that has been done has been very necessary,” Stirling reminded me.
“If my ancestors can look down on what’s happening at Whiteladies, they’ll call you blessed.”
He was silent for a while and then he said: “A big house should be the home of a lot of people.” He turned to Lucie and said: “Don’t you agree?”
“I do,” she answered.
“And you were talking of leaving us,” I accused.
“We shan’t allow it.
Shall we, Stirling? “
“Minta could never manage without you,” said Stirling, and Lucie looked pleased, which made me happy.
“Then there’s Nora,” I went on.
“How I wish she would come here. It’s absurd … one person in the big Mercer’s House.”
“She’s considering leaving us,” said Stirling.
“We must certainly not allow that to happen.”
“How can we prevent it if she wants to go?” he asked quite coldly.
“She’s been saying she’s going for a long time, but still she stays. I think she has a reason for staying.”
“What reason?” He looked at me as though he disliked me, but I believed it was the thought of Nora’s going that he disliked. I shrugged my shoulders and he went on: “Go and have a look at what they’ve done to the bartizan some time. We mustn’t let the antiquity be destroyed. They’ll have to go very carefully with the restoration.”
He liked me to take an interest in the work that was being done so I said I would go that afternoon before dark (it was dark just after four at this time of the year). I shouldn’t have a chance in the morning as I’d promised to go and have morning coffee with Maud who was having a twelfth-night bazaar and was worried about refreshments.