He watched me and at any moment I thought he was going to snatch the box away.
I said gently: “Everyone has to die at some time. And when they die they must be treated with respect. They must be given an honourable grave. They want to rest in peace.”
He was silent listening to me with a kind of wonder.
I said: “I know what we’ll do. There’s the mausoleum.”
He looked at me not understanding.
“It’s the house of the dead. You know it. It’s not far from here. It is where the Sallongers go when they die. It’s a beautiful place. You have seen the angels there. They are guarding it. We’ll take him there and bury him, shall we?”
He continued to look at me in wonder and I put my arm round him and held him closely. He was trembling.
I said: “It is best. He will be at peace and you can come to visit him. You’ll know he is there under the ground. You can siT by his grave and talk to him. It will seem as though he is there with you. The only difference will be that you cannot see him.”
He went on studying me. It seemed a good plan. The dog had to be buried and I did not want it to be forcibly taken from him. We could dig a hole by the side of the mausoleum; that would give a certain dignity to the burial.
He was clutching the box tightly.
I stood up and said: “Come on, Willie. We’ll do it now. Then you can stay and talk to him and you will know that he is at rest. He will be happier in his box. It is there he wants to be now.”
I started to walk away, half expecting him not to follow, but he did. So I led the way to the family vault of the Sallongers.
It had always fascinated me since the first time I had seen it and Grand’mere had explained to me what it was.
“When a member of the family dies he or she is put in the mausoleum. In those coffins lie the bones of long dead Sallongers,” said Grand’mere. “They were together in life and they remain so in death. Great families have these vaults.”
I used to go and look at it—always trying to persuade Julia or Cassie to come with me. I was fascinated by the two angels with flaming swords—like those in the garden of Eden in my bible-guarding the place from intruders.
The iron gates were beautifully wrought and in the stone work of the walls figures had been carved. When I was small I fancied the faces changed as I looked at them. I sometimes dreamed of the place … that I was locked in there and could not get out and that the coffins opened and the long-dead Sallongers came out to look at me.
I said: “We will dig a grave here, Willie … by the walls of the vault and your little dog will lie close to the Sallongers. He will be happy there because his will be a real grave. We will put a cross on it and you will find it easily. Perhaps we will put some flowers on it and everyone will know that he is there and how much we cared about him.”
Willie was nodding his head slowly.
I had brought a little shovel with me. I gave it to him and said: “You dig, Willie. He would want you to bury him. You were the one he loved best.”
So that was how we buried Willie’s dog.
I knew that he went to the grave often. He would sit beside it and appear to be talking.
The dogs in the stables often had puppies and I made Julia ask for one and I told her we were going to give it to Willie. This she was happy to do.
I knew we should find him sitting by the grass.
I said: “Hello, Willie. Here’s a little dog. He has come to be with you … if you would like him to.”
Willie stared at the dog without much emotion.
Cassie stroked him and said: “You’d like to be with Willie, would you?” She put her face close to the puppy and unexpect-edly sneezed. Then she did it again.
“Once a wish, Twice a kiss,” sang Julia.
“Then it’s a kiss for me,” said Cassie and sneezed again.
You’re like pepper, puppy,” she said. “You’re making me sneeze. I’m going to call you Pepper.”
“It seems a good name for a dog,” added Julia.
I took the puppy and held it out to Willie. I said: “Look, Pepper, I think you and Willie are going to like each other.”
Willie put out a hand and took the puppy. It gave a little bark and licked his hand. I saw a sudden joy come into Willie’s face and I knew we had done the right thing.
“He’s yours, Willie,” I said. “He wants a home. Will you take Pepper and look after him?”
I am sure he stopped grieving after that.
Sir Francis came to The Silk House. There was always a good deal of ceremony when he arrived. The big carriage was housed with the gig and the dog cart which seemed to shrink into insignificance beside it. Cobb took up his quarters over the stables. I think he had the same effect on the grooms as Sir Francis did on the household. Cobb came from London and therefore considered himself greatly superior to poor country folk. Meals were more ceremonious. Lady Sallonger paid more attention to her toilette than ever, but she seemed to become more of an invalid and languished elegantly in her ribbons and laces on the sofa. Sir Francis sat beside her and called her “m’dear”; he patted her hand and listened patiently while she told him how she suffered. Clarkson became more dignified than ever and Mrs. Dillon was quite flustered in the kitchen, giving orders and cancelling them until Grace said she didn’t know whether she was standing on her head or her heels.
He was closeted with Grand’mere for some time.
He did not stay very long … only for a few days, which I daresay was considered long enough by all concerned. There was a feeling of relief when Cobb, resplendent in the driver’s seat, carried Sir Francis back to town.
Grand’mere talked about him to me after he had gone.
“He’s got something on his mind,” she said. “I have a fancy that all is not well.”
“Was he angry about something?”
“Oh no … but I think he looked worried. He said trade was in the doldrums and we needed something to pull it out. Those were his words. We wanted something new. You couldn’t stand still. We had to find something and it had to be good. The old lines were very fine but people craved for something new. ‘What we have to find, Madame Cleremont,’ he said to me, ‘is some new method of weaving silk … something which will set the world alight… something no one else has.’ I have rarely seen him in such a mood.”
“Do you think he is worried about Julia’s season? That must be very expensive.”
Grand’mere laughed. “I think not, ma cherie. I think that is one small matter and Sir Francis has much business on his mind. No. It is merely that perhaps he has not made so much money this year as last. He thinks in big figures. Oh, he will be all right. It is just that he craves something new. It is what they all want … some invention which will set them way ahead of those who who compete against them.”
” And there is a great deal of this competition then?” She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Ma cherie, it is there all the time … and there is big competition between the house of St. Allengere and that of Sallonger. They have been rivals for years. One must do better than the other. The Catholic St. Allengeres and the Protestant Sallongers. Can you not imagine the trials in the family when one branch takes up with a new religion. Religion is responsible for a great deal of trouble, ma petite. ”
” But there is friendship between them. They visit.” She pursed her lips. “It is … how you say it… an armed neutrality. Between these two there is great desire to outdo each other. One must be better than the other. It has been the story over the years.”
“You were there. Did Sir Francis go to Villers-Mure very often?”
“Very rare did he come.” “And you came back with him. I never really understood that. ”
“Oh …it was an opportunity … and since I come this is mv home. I work with Sallonger … St. Allengere no more.” “There is so much I do not understand.” She took my face in her hands and looked at me tenderly. “There is so much most of us do not understand, cherie.’” In due course the house settled to normality, and all through that summer the subject of Julia’s coming out dominated the household. The season usually lasted from Easter until August, and so Julia must be ready by the spring. The Countess of Bal-lader came to stay for a week or so to assure herself, I supposed, that Julia would be worthy of her tuition.