"You know this and you allow it?"
He laughed. "Let her enjoy her life, poor old lady. The Verringers provide the spice in her dull diet. Mind you she has a certain amount to call on and for the rest ... a fertile imagination."
"How do you know about all this gossip?"
"You think that I am a careless good-for-nothing concerned only with pleasure, which you imagine as attending balls, gambling clubs and indulging in the company of obliging ladies. There are all sorts of pleasures, Cordelia. Running an estate is one of them, delving into the past another. You see, my character has many facets. I can change it in a flash. There is quite a lot to know about me, I assure you."
"I never doubted that. Shall we get down to .the business for which I came? Tell me what extra tuition you would like for Fiona?"
"I want her to leave the Academy as a young lady ready for society."
"Do you think we can make her so?"
"I think you can."
"How?"
"I should like her to emerge ... exactly like you."
I felt myself flushing. "Really, I don't understand ..."
"Poised, articulate, cool, inviting interest. Humorous ... in fact devastatingly attractive."
I began to laugh but I knew my eyes were shining. I had said that I liked flattery and it was certainly true.
"Why do you laugh?"
"Because you are laughing at me."
"I am deadly serious. If I had to launch you into society I would know that I had an easy task."
"I disagree. A penniless schoolmistress would not get very far in your sort of society."
He had come to my side. He took my hand and kissed it.
I said: "This is absurd. If you behave like this I must leave at once."
He looked at me slyly. "You will have to wait for the girls."
I put my hands behind my back for they were shaking a little.
"I thought you asked me here for a serious purpose."
"I am very serious."
"Then your behaviour is very extraordinary." "I thought it was very restrained."
"I mean your absurd compliments and insinuations. Please, no more of them, I find them offensive."
"I was only speaking the truth. Isn't that what you teach your pupils to do?"
I sat down with a show of dignity.
"I suspect that this talk about guiding Fiona's future is nonsense."
"I'll confess I don't find it a very interesting subject."
"Then why did you ask me to come here?" "Because I wanted to talk to you."
"Then why didn't you state your real purpose?" "If I had, my wish would not have been granted." "So you lied."
"Only white lies, really. Who in a lifetime has not had to resort to those at some time Even you perhaps.
"Tell me what your purpose is."
"To be with you."
"But why?"
"You must know that I find you irresistibly attractive."
"Is that the way a prospective bridegroom should talk to another woman. I feel sorry for Mrs. Martindale."
"You need not. There is a woman who is infinitely capable of taking care of herself. You are thinking that she and I are going to marry. Is that it? The hot news from the indefatigable Mrs. B. of the post office. Cordelia, I am not, and never was, going to marry Mrs. Martindale ..."
"But what of the child ..."
"You mean her daughter. Oh, is that child said to be mine? Mrs. B. again. She should be writing fiction."
"So ... Well, it is no concern of mine. In fact, you must think me rather impertinent to talk as I have. Please forgive me."
"Most willingly."
"Do you have nothing to say about Fiona, and are you satisfied with the tuition she is receiving at this moment?"
"She does seem a little colourless, but that is not the fault of the school. She is naturally so. And Eugenie is inclined to be aggressive. There is a lack of charm in both of them-but perhaps I am comparing them with ... others. I really wanted to talk about the Abbey and the coming celebrations. It is not so much the costumes, but I thought you would be interested in some old accounts of the Abbey and that you might care to teach the girls something about it. I was appalled by the ignorance of both Fiona and Eugenie on the subject. And there is to be this pageant. I have delved into the archives and found these. We have many accounts of the early days here and apparently when my ancestors acquired it there was much of it intact, including lots of records which were not destroyed, and they were placed in our library. I thought you might be interested to see them."
"I should be most interested."
"Come to the table then and I will show you some of the old plans of the place. There are some very good drawings done by the monks about a hundred years before the Dissolution."
He drew two chairs up to the table. I sat down and he pulled a great tome towards us. "What do you know about the monks of Colby?" he asked.
"That they were Cistercians ... little else."
"Then I'll tell you a little. They came into existence round about the twelfth century and our abbey was built in the 1190s. Do you know where their name came from?"
"No."
"From Clairvaux which was a desolate and almost inaccessible forest bordering on Champagne and Burgundy. Here is an old map. I'll show you.
St Bernard, the founder, was the Abbot of Clairvaux, the first of the monasteries."
I turned to look at him. He had indeed changed.
That he was immensely interested in the Abbey was obvious, for he had thrown off that blasé worldly manner. He looked younger, almost boyish in his enthusiasm.
"They were a noble band of men," he said.
"Their aim was to devote themselves entirely to their religion. Perhaps it is nobler to go into the world and try to improve it than to shut oneself away in meditation and prayer. What do you think?"
"Yes, I think the braver course is to go out into the world. But so few people improve it when they do and a love of power gets between them and their ambitions."
"Ambition," he said. "By that sin fell the angels.
Lucifer was proud and ambitious, and as I have told you he is believed to have been a member of our family. Ask Mrs. Baddicombe."
I laughed. "Please go on. It's fascinating."
"The aim of the Cistercians was to live as simply as possible. Everything was to be plain. They always built in remote places, far from the towns. This must have been isolated once. Can you imagine it? The precincts were surrounded by a strong wall and always near water. Some were built on either side of a stream. We have the river nearby and that gives us our important fish ponds. The monks had to have a supply of fresh food. In the walls were watch-towers. I suppose they had to keep a lookout for despoilers. Look. Here is a map. You'll recognize much of it. Here are the barns, the granaries, shambles, work shops. This is the inner yard and this the outer."
"Oh yes." I said. "It is indeed recognizable."
"Here's the Abbot's House; the guest house is next to it. People were always calling at the Abbey and no one who needed food and shelter was ever turned away. Look at the nave. There were eleven bays. You can see it clearly in this map. You see, you enter by the narthex. And here is the transept. Look at the stall divided by a wall once ... the monks one side and the fratres conversi on the other. They were the novices ... Some of their quarters help to make up the Academy. They were not so badly damaged as the rest of the Abbey."
"What a wonderful map!"
"As it was in those days. And I have another as it appeared after the Dissolution. My family had that one done. Look, here is the calefactory, the day room."