The holidays were over and there was Aunt Patty waving goodbye on the platform, cherries bobbing on her hat and Violet telling us that she was sure the sandwiches she had packed for the journey would be dry before we ate them.
"See you at Easter time," called Aunt Patty. "Hot cross bun time," added Violet.
I looked at Teresa. She was smiling, clearly looking forward to Easter and hot cross buns.
That term seemed dull compared with the others. The first had been exciting because I was settling in and I had had my encounters with Jason Verringer. During the term leading up to Christmas I had been busy with rehearsals and so on. Now that was over and this term seemed like an anticlimax. For one thing Jason Verringer was still away. Fiona and Eugenie had naturally been at the Hall for Christmas and an elderly cousin and her husband had come to take charge of them. I gathered from Teresa that they had done very much as they liked and that the elderly cousins had quickly given up trying to exercise control.
When I asked them how they had enjoyed Christmas, Eugenie had laughed and said with a rather malicious twinkle in her eyes: "It was quite interesting, Miss Grant!" and Fiona replied demurely: "We enjoyed it very much thank you."
Eugenie and I were in a state of what I called armed neutrality-and of course Charlotte Mackay was with her in this. They had never forgiven me for preventing their sharing a room and they would, I knew, discountenance me if they had the chance, but now they did seem to respect my authority and of course I held over them the threat of curtailing their riding if they did not behave well.
It was different with Fiona. She was a docile girl, very pretty and easily led and I was sure if left alone would not have looked for trouble. Teresa was my stalwart ally and the rest of the girls in my section were ordinary kind-hearted creatures who might be led astray by others but were quite ready, and really preferred, to be amenable. I think they were all a little impressed by the change in Teresa and I tried to imagine what descriptions she gave of Aunt Patty's house. I suspected that she made a visit there sound like a trip to the Promised Land.
However, I was becoming more and more aware that I had the special gift of winning the respect of my pupils without a great deal of effort, which is one of the primary needs of any who wish to teach.
So the term went smoothly, too smoothly perhaps, and I, like Teresa, was looking forward to returning to Moldenbury.
Halfway through January the snow came and it was difficult to keep the rooms warm in spite of big fires. The bitter North wind seemed to penetrate even the thick walls of the Abbey, and the ruins, white with snow, were fantastically beautiful- and even more uncanny in moonlight. The girls enjoyed it; they built rival snowmen, had snowballing baffles and tobogganed clown the slight incline above which the Abbey stood. The roads were treacherous and for over a week no vehicle could reach us. Daisy was, of course, prepared for such an emergency and there was plenty of food, but the girls enjoyed feeling cut off and many of them were hoping that the icy conditions would continue. Some of the servants were saying that Devon had never known such weather and what was the world coming to?
"Disaster," commented Eileen Eccles. "When the temperature in Devonshire falls below freezing, the world is coming to an end. Some of them ought to be transported to the north of Scotland; then they would learn what winter is."
Before the end of the month the thaw set in, and I went into the town. Mrs. Baddicombe the postmistress detained me for a gossip as no one else was in the shop, which served groceries and many other things besides being a post office.
Eileen had warned me that Mrs. Baddicombe was what she called "the town recorder" in as much as she knew all that was going on and her mission in life was to make sure that she spread the news throughout the community with as much speed as possible.
She was a tall spare woman with dull opaque eyes and a great deal of pepper and salt hair, which she wore piled high on her head with a frizzed fringe. She talked incessantly while she weighed parcels and handed out stamps or dealt with the commodities of the store.
"Oh, Miss Grant, it be nice to see 'ee. How have 'ee been getting on at the school during this terrible weather? I said to Jim (Jim was her husband who sometimes helped in the shop and was noted for his somewhat taciturn silences. "His refuge against that flow of talk," said Eileen.) weather be terrible. I didn't see a soul in the shop for days."
I said we had managed but Miss Hetherington would like the goods sent up as soon as possible and I had an order for her.
"Jim will bring 'em up as soon as he can. There's everybody wanting things now. Fair run out they had. Who'd have thought we'd have such weather here in Devon. It's the worst for fifty year they'm telling me. Her from Rooks' Rest have sent up this morning. She don't come herself ... oh no ... too grand. Sends that London woman. Never could abide her. Looks like she's laughing at you all the time. That's London, I suppose. Thinks she's smarter than we be. Oh no, Madam hardly ever comes in herself. Why, you'd think she was my lady already."
"Oh ... you mean Mrs. Martindale."
"That's her," Mrs. Baddicombe leaned forward and lowered her voice. "I reckon we'll have her up at the Hall soon. Hm ... well, least said soonest mended. Her ladyship now, she was a lovely lady. Never saw much of her lately ... but to go like that ... and her in Rooks' Rest, his house ... all at the disposal of Madam if you please. And there she is having the baby and all that. I reckon it's real disgraceful. Of course, you know they've got the devil in them."
I ought not to be listening. It would be more dignified to make my excuses and yet, to tell the truth, I found the opportunity to discover something irresistible.
"Well, you've not been here long, Miss Grant, and you're up at that school and that Miss Hetherington, she be a fine lady, places her order regular and there's no question about paying ...
That's what I like. Not that Hall bills ain't paid. I wouldn't say that-but the goings on! They've always been a wild lot ... got the devil in them. Well, he's gone away to make a respectable delay. Couldn't marry her right away could he? Even he has to wait a year for decency's sake. I reckon come Easter we'll have the church bells ringing for them. A wedding when the last time they was tolling for a funeral."
"Well, Mrs. Baddicombe, I'd better be going ..." It was a feeble attempt and Mrs. Baddicombe was not easily dismissed.
She leaned further over the counter.
"And how did her ladyship die? Well it happened nice and convenient, didn't it? Madam has the little bastard and her ladyship takes her dose of laudanum. But this be Verringer land and there's no gainsaying that. The things that goes on .. . and them two young ladies up at the school. Miss Eugenie's got a lot of Verringer in her. But I reckon there'll be trouble when he marries her. There's so much people will stand and no more. I reckon they ought to take another look at her ladyship."
Someone had come into the shop and Mrs. Baddicombe started back.
It was Miss Barston who wanted stamps and sewing cottons.
I waited while she was served, said goodbye to Mrs. Baddicombe, and Miss Barston and I came out of the shop together.
"That woman is a pernicious gossip," said Miss Barston. "I always discourage her when she starts on me."
I was a little ashamed. I should have done the same, but I was very eager to learn all I could about Jason Verringer and Marcia Martindale.
After the snow the weather turned mild and almost springlike. I met Marcia Martindale in the town. She stood talking for a little while and told me how wretched she had been when snowed up, and reproached me for not coming to see her. I made an appointment to call the following Wednesday if no sudden duties were imposed on me.