Friendship between my family and the Menfreys had grown. My father was particularly interested in Bevil, for A’Lee had been right when he said that the Menfreys always went into politics. Bevil had decided to do just that, and I supposed that one day he hoped to bring back the family tradition of representing Lansella. In the meantime he had come down from the university, had traveled through Europe on a sort of Grand Tour, and was helping my father in his work with a prospect of gaining an opportunity of standing for Parliament when it arose.

When I had seen them together I was astonished, for my father was quite charming with Bevil, who, I was sure, had no idea how different he could be with his own daughter.

Summer holidays were spent at Chough Towers, and that was as good as staying at Menfreya. My father had decided that London air was not good for me, so I was not an encumbrance there, but put into the care of the A’Lees, which suited me, particularly as I spent the greater part of my time at Menfreya, where I was regarded as one of the family.

I was growing more restrained; I was still resentful against the world but able to control my feelings more easily. Sometimes I dreamed that my father was trying to throw me out of the house or was chasing me with a whip. I recall vividly the cold terror in which I always awoke from these nightmares.

I told no one of these dreams—certainly not Gwennan. But Fanny knew. Often I would wake up and find her at my bedside, because I had shouted in my sleep. Sometimes she would just get into my bed and hold me in her arms until I slipped into peaceful sleep; at other times she would talk to me about the orphanage. I rarely had these dreams when I was away at school.

Because for a short time I had feared I might lose Fanny, I realized how important she was to me. She it was who sewed the name tabs on my school garments, who insisted that I change my clothes if I were caught in the rain. Gwennan envied me Fanny.

“You’re lucky to have a maid of your own,” she told me. “She’ll be with you to the death.”

I enjoyed being envied by Gwennan, so that was something else for which I had to be grateful to Fanny.

Gwennan was the most attractive girl in the school and the most outrageously outspoken. She charmed her way out of trouble, and I believe that had she not been able to do so, she might well have been expelled. She had been right when she said the the Menfreys were fatally attractive to the opposite sex. There were one or two affairs when we were at school which were undetected, but of which she liked to boast. How far they went I was not sure; I could not always believe what she told me. I was constantly afraid of what she would do next, but what I was most afraid of was being left out of her confidence.

It was she who told me that Bevil was going into Parliament and that my father was helping him. He was waiting until there was a constituency for him, and then he would nurse it and hope for a seat at a by-election or the next General Election.

“Your father can do so much for him, so Papa and Mamma are anxious that we shall all be friends. That, my dear Harriet, is why we go to school together and you're so welcome at Menfreya.”

“It seems a horrid reason.”

“Reasons often are.”

“So that’s why you’re my friend?”

“No. I could not be bribed.”

“I don’t see how I could bribe you.”

“Not you. But all that money could. Mamma and Papa want us to be friends, you know, because of Bev. But I have my own reasons.”

“What?”

“You’re such a foil to my beauty.” She laughed. “Ha! Now you look sick. Silly. As if I need a foil. I never did believe in them anyway. No, I like you because you’re so angry about everything, and ran away and all that. You stayed that night, too, on No Man’s and didn’t bring me in. I’m glad you’re going to marry Bevil.”

“Marry Bevil!”

“Well, you are in love with him, aren’t you? ‘My dear and precious life!’ as Mrs. Pengelly would say. You are blushing. You look better red than sallow. So it’s not a bad idea. I should cultivate that, Harriet”

“I don’t know what you mean about … marrying.”

“Then you’re blinder than a dozen bats. You know how they work things in families like ours. They choose our husbands for us … like royalty. Bevil is for you, and Harry Leveret for me. Poor Harry has red hair and you can’t see his eyelashes. I don’t believe he’s got many; but I tell you what he has a lot of, and that is pounds, shillings and pence; and my family happen to think that is a great deal more important than eyelashes. And you have the same. That is why we are so happy to invite the Leverets and the Delvaneys to Menfreya Manor. It stands to reason, doesn’t it?”

‘They are very ... mercenary.”

“Have a heart, Harriet. They’re poor. They have the grandest house in South Cornwall, and it’s an old monster that eats up the pounds, shillings and pence. You’ve no idea, We’re feckless. We always have been. Monsters demand the blood of rich, young virgins like you and Harry—for you are, I know, and I’m sure Harry is. So we need you.”

“Does Bevil know this?”

“Of course, he knows it.”

“And he doesn’t mind?”

“Mind? Why should he? He’s delighted.”

“You mean he likes me a little?”

“Don’t be silly, Harriet. You’re an heiress. Your father’s got all that money, and who else has he got to leave it to?”

“I don’t think he’ll leave anything to me.”

“Of course, he will. People always leave their money to their heirs … however much they hate them. It’s pride or something.”

“But it’s beastly … for you and Bevil, I mean.”

“Bless you. We don’t mind.” She stood up and folded her hands together, trying to look like a saint “It’s for the sake of Menfreya,” she added.

It was soon after that when she showed me the table in the hall. “Once,” she said, “it was set with precious stones. Rubies, I think. See, they’ve all been taken out They were used up one by one by my ancestors … to save Menfreya. Well, now there are no rubies left, so it has to be wives and husbands.”

“I shall be a wife more precious than rubies,” I said. We giggled together. That was how it was with Gwennan; however much she hurt me, we would always laugh together; and however much she scorned me or criticized me, I was always her closest friend.

When my father decided to give a fancy-dress ball at Chough Towers, Gwennan determined to go. We were sixteen and neither of us officially “out,” but Gwennan badgered Lady Menfrey until she agreed that we might watch from the gallery if my father gave his permission for us to do this; and since Lady Menfrey asked it, it was graciously given.

“We need clothes,” said Gwennan, but even Lady Menfrey, who could usually be persuaded by her family, did not take that seriously.

Gwennan glowered; she raged and stormed; and for days she talked of nothing but costumes and how we could get them. Then one day when I went to Menfreya I found her in a state of excitement.

She greeted me with the words: “I’ve something to show you. Come on. It’s where you’ve never been before,”

Menfreya always seemed mysterious to me because there was so much of it which I had never explored, and the thought of seeing a new part excited me, so I eagerly followed Gwennan, who led me through the house to the east wing, which was never used and was the oldest part of Menfreya.

“This wing needs so many repairs that until they can be done we can’t live in it Who’d want to anyway? I came here yesterday but I didn’t like to stay, because it was getting dark.” We had climbed a short staircase and reached a door which she pushed but could not open.

“It was hard to open yesterday, but I managed it Before that it hadn’t been opened for years, I expect—not since Bevil and I came here ages ago. Don’t stand there. Give a hand.”

I put my shoulder to the door and pushed with all my might It moved slowly at first and then flew open to disclose a gloomy passage which smelt of age and damp. We walked down this.

“We must be near the east buttress,” I whispered.

“There’s no need to murmur,” Gwennan shouted. “No one can hear us. We’re shut right away. Buttress is right. That’s where I’m taking you.”

My teeth were chattering—with excitement, not cold, although there was a chill hi the air.

“Fancy having all this and never coming here,” I said.

“Somebody went over it once and gave such an estimate for what had to be done that we forgot all about it That was the time when I came here exploring with Bevil.”

“When you were children?”

She didn’t answer. “Mind these stairs. Hold the rope.” We had come to a small spiral staircase; each step was steep and worn in the middle; the rope acted as a banister and a means of pulling oneself up the stairs. Gwennan stood at the top and grinned at me. She held up her hands. “Look at the dust.”

“What made you come here?”

“You’ll see. Look at this door. It was put in a long time after this place was built. Once there was just a panel which you could slide and let yourself into the room.”

“What room?”

“This leads to a sort of passage and then … into the haunted room. This door’s hard to open, too.”

It was; it gave a whine of protest which sounded like a human voice warning us not to go in—at least, that was what I suggested, and it made Gwennan shriek with laughter.

‘Trust you to think up that! Now.… through here. It leads to the buttress.”

The air was really chill now; the passage was narrow, the wall of stone. We were almost in the dark, and I reached for ‘Gwennan and clutched her skirt.