In a way it made her more vulnerable, more amenable, and oddly enough she seemed to cling to me for comfort. When we were in bed-she in hers under the crucifix which was carved into the wall and I on the other side of the room- she would lie sleepless and I sensed she desperately wanted to talk.
"Miss Grant," she said on our first night. "Are you going to marry my uncle?"
I was taken completely by surprise. I stammered: "My dear Eugenie, what gave you such an idea?"
"Well, he wants to, I know. And he was always trying to be with you ... though not so much now. I wouldn't mind if you did. You'd be a sort of aunt, wouldn't you? You mightn't like it though. He's not very nice. And Teresa says you are going to marry that other man John Somebody. She says he is lovely ..."
"Well," I said, trying to speak lightly, "you girls seem to have settled my fate."
"Miss Grant, is Charlotte going to die?"
"Of course not. She'll be better in a few days."
"Suppose she did. She'd want to confess ... about that letter."
"What letter?"
"The one about Mrs. Martindale."
"You sent that. You ... and Charlotte!"
"Yes. We were so angry with you because you parted us when you first came. Charlotte said we'd have revenge. We'd bide our time, she said. That's what we did and when it seemed as if it might be true, it didn't seem so bad."
"It was a wicked thing to do."
"I know. That's why I have to confess ... in case Charlotte dies with it on her conscience. She wouldn't want that."
"First of all stop talking about Charlotte's dying. You'll laugh at yourself in a few days' time. And as for that letter. It was silly and unkind, and only mean people send anonymous letters. Your accusations are quite untrue. Your uncle says that Mrs. Martindale went to London. If she wants to do that it is no one's concern. Never do such a thing again."
"But you forgive us?"
"Yes, I do, but remember ... it was mean and cruel and wicked."
"All right. I'll tell Charlotte if she's well enough."
"Yes do, and tell her that I think you were two silly and immature girls ... and that's an end to the matter."
"Oh, thank you, Miss Grant."
After that she seemed to get quite fond of me and I liked her better too. She had been worried about that letter and that did show some finer feelings. I forgot how it had upset me and had really changed my feelings towards Jason; but it was a relief to know that at least that unsavoury matter was cleared up.
During the next day Charlotte seemed a little better, but still very weak, and she hardly noticed that Eugenie was not in her room.
It was Eugenie's second night in my room when I made the shattering discovery which was to open my eyes and make me realize that I was in the midst of some sinister and dangerous conspiracy.
Eugenie lay in her bed, ready for what seemed to be becoming a bedtime chat - a mark of our new relationship.
"Charlotte was all right during the day before she was so ill, and she was laughing and joking. She said she was going to see if she could jigjag the toboggan down the slopes the next day and to see if we could skate on the fish ponds. They were frozen then."
"I hardly think Miss Hetherington would allow that."
"We were sure she wouldn't."
"And you wouldn't be so foolish as to attempt such a thing without first asking permission."
"Oh no, Miss Grant, we shouldn't have done that."
"You do realize it could be very dangerous."
"I think that was why Charlotte liked the idea. She was laughing about it. She was so well. She had a second helping of soup. She said it was too salty and it made her thirsty, so later on she drank my milk as well as her own. I didn't want mine. So it didn't matter."
I had been thinking of the girls' attempting to skate on the fish ponds and was pulled up sharp.
"What did you say? She drank your milk?"
"Yes. She was so thirsty. The soup was too salty."
I felt myself turn cold. Charlotte had drunk the milk intended for Eugenie and she had been ill as Eugenie had previously ... when presumably Eugenie had drunk her own milk.
"Are you asleep, Miss Grant?"
"No ... no," I said faintly.
I was thinking of the milk which was served to the girls. Milk and two plain biscuits ... the last thing before they retired to their rooms. I visualized the maids going round the tables and the tin of biscuits. The maids took it in turn to do this duty.
I heard myself say: "So ... Charlotte drank your milk?"
"Yes. It shows she was all right because she drank her own as well."
"Who gave you the milk? Do you remember?"
"No ... It was one of the maids. I wasn't noticing because Charlotte had this idea about skating on the ponds.
"I wish you could remember."
"Well, you don't always notice the maids, do you? They all look alike in their black dresses and white caps.
I was thinking: Am I dreaming this? Eugenie sick three times ... and when Charlotte drinks the milk intended for Eugenie she is ill. I wished Eugenie would stop chattering inconsequentially and would concentrate on this.
"She's good fun and she's clever. It did come out all right though we thought of it as a joke at first." "What?" I said absently.
"Oh, she knows a lot about old legends." I realized then that she was talking about Elsa. "Do you believe in them, Miss Grant? She said if we went into the wood at full moon time one of us would meet our future husband ... and it happened to Fiona."
"What?" I cried, sitting up.
"What's wrong, Miss Grant?" asked Eugenie.
I must be careful, I thought. This is becoming frightening.
"Tell me more about that," I said.
"It was May Day. That's a special night for the old religions. Druids and all that, I think. Elsa said all sorts of things could happen on certain days and if we waited till the moon was full and went into the forest even in daytime, which was the only time we could go anyway, we'd meet a man ... We laughed and didn't believe it and we said we'd go into the woods and when we got back tell Elsa we had met a man, but when we went into the woods, there he was..."
My mouth was dry and I found it difficult to speak. I said at last, "So you met this man and Fiona ran away with him."
"Yes. It was so romantic."
"Eugenie," I said, "what was the name of the man you met in the woods?"
"It was Carl."
"Carl What?"
"I never heard his other name. Fiona talked about him as Carl."
"And you and Charlotte helped her to elope." "Yes, we did. On that night when we went to the Hall."
"And you found a monk's robe so that he could come to the pageant?"
"It was so exciting. He had to see her that night to tell her what time she was to meet him. They were going to London first. We thought it was the most fantastic thing."
"Eugenie," I said quietly. "Miss Eccles says you have a real talent for drawing."
"Oh does she? I love it. It's my favourite subject. I wish I could do it all the time."
"Could you draw me a picture of Fiona's husband?"
"Oh ... I could try. I'll do it in the morning." "I want you to do it now."
"Now, Miss Grant? When I'm in bed?"
"Yes," I said. "Now. I want to see it now."
I got out of bed and found a pencil and paper. She sat up in bed and using a book as a prop, started to draw, screwing up her face in concentration.
"He's very good-looking: It's hard to do. It's a bit like him though. Yes, he's very good looking. His hair is fair. It curls a bit ... like that. His face .. . well, it's different from other people's faces. There's a look in his eyes ... I can't get that."
"Go on," I said. "It's coming."
And so it was. The face that looked back at me bore a strong resemblance to that of the stranger in the forest.