Mellyora and I were about the same height, but I was much more slender than she and when she gave me dresses which she no longer wanted, I only had to take them in to make them fit. I remember the first time I went home to the cottage wearing a blue and white gingham dress, white stockings, and black shiny shoes—all gifts from Mellyora. I carried a basket on my arm, because whenever I visited the cottage I took something.

Mrs. Yeo's remarks had been the only disconcerting note to a perfect day. As I packed the basket, she said: "Miss Mellyora be like parson—very fond of giving away what she can't afford to."

I tried to forget that remark. I told myself that it was just another of Mrs. Yeo's grumbles; but it was like a tiny dark cloud in a summer sky.

As I walked through the village I saw Hetty Pengaster, the farmer s daughter. Before that day I had set myself up for hire at Trelinket Fair I had thought of Hetty with envy. She was the farmer's only daughter, although he had two sons—Thomas, who farmed with him, and Reuben, who worked at Pengrants the builders, and was that young man who had thought he had seen the seventh virgin when the Abbas wall collapsed and consequently had become piskey-mazed. Hetty was the darling of the household, plumply pretty in an overripe way which made the old women shake their heads prophetically and say that Pengasters ought to watch out that Hetty didn't have a baby in a cradle before she had a wedding ring on her finger. I saw what they meant; it was in the way she walked, in the sidelong glances she gave the men, in the thick, sensuous lips. She always had a ribbon in her auburn hair and her dresses were always showy and low cut.

She was all but affianced to Saul Cundy who worked in the Fedder mine. A strange alliance this would be—for Saul was a serious man who must have been some ten years older than Hetty. It would be a marriage approved of by her family, for Saul was no ordinary miner. He was known as Capten Saul and had the power to employ men; he was clearly a leader and one would have thought him scarcely the sort to come courting Hetty. Perhaps Hetty herself thought this and wanted to have some fun before settling down to sober marriage.

She mocked me now. "Well, if it ain't Kerensa Carlee—all dressed up and fit to kill."

I retorted in a tone I had learned from Mellyora: "I am visiting my Grandmother."

"Ooo! Are you then, me lady. Mind 'ee don't soil your hands with the likes of we."

I heard her laughing as I went on and I didn't mind in the least. In fact I was pleased. Why had I ever envied Hetty Pengaster? What was a ribbon in the hair, shoes on the feet, beside the ability to write and read and talk like a lady?

I had rarely felt as happy as I did when I continued on my way to the cottage.

I found Granny alone and her eyes shone with pride when she kissed me. No matter how much I learned I would never cease to love Granny and yearn for her approval.

"Where's Joe?" I asked.

Granny was exultant.

I knew Mr. Pollent, the vet, who had a good business out Molenter way? Well, he had called at the cottage. He had heard tell that Joe was good with, animals and he could do with someone like that ... someone who would work for him. He would train him and make a vet of him, maybe.

"So Joe has gone to Mr. Pollent?"

"Well, what do 'ee think? Twas a chance in a lifetime."

"A vet. I was planning for him to be a doctor."

"A vet has a very good profession, lovey."

"It's not the same," I replied wistfully.

"Well, tis a start like. Get his keep for a year, then he'll be paid. And Joe be happy as a king. Don't think of nothing but they animals."

I repeated Granny's words. "Tis a start."

"Tis a load off my mind, too," Granny admitted. "Now I see you two settled like, I be at peace."

"Granny!' I said, "I reckon anything you want can be yours. Who'd have thought Td be sitting here in buckled shoes and a gingham dress with lace at the collar."

"Who'd have thought it," she agreed.

"I dreamed it; and I wanted it so much that it came... . Granny, it's there, isn't it? The whole world ... it's there if you know how to take it?"

Granny put her hand over mine. "Don't 'ee forget, lovey, life ain't all that easy. What if someone else has the same dream? What if they do want the same piece of the world as you. You've had luck It's all along of parson's daughter. But don't 'ee forget that was chance; and there be good chance and bad chance."

I wasn't really listening. I was too content. I was faintly chagrined, it was true, that it was only the vet to whom Joe had gone. If it had been Dr. Hilliard I should have felt like some magician who had found the keys to the kingdom on earth.

Still, it was a start for Joe; and there was more to eat in the cottage now. People were coming to see Granny. They believed in her again. Look at that granddaughter of hers worming her way into the parsonage! Look at that grandson! Mr. Pollent himself riding to the cottage to ask "Could I train him please?" What was that but witchcraft. Magic! Call it what you will. Any old woman who could do that could charm the warts off you, could give you the right powder to cure this and that, could look into the future and tell you what you belonged to do.

So Granny was prospering, too.

We were all prospering. There had never been such times.

I was singing to myself as I made my way back to the parsonage.

Mellyora and I were together a great deal now that I was a fit companion for her. I imitated her in lots of ways—walking, speaking, remaining still when I spoke, keeping my voice low, holding in my temper, being cold instead of hot. It was a fascinating study. Mrs. Yeo had ceased to grumble; Bess and Kit had ceased to marvel; Belter and Billy Toms no longer called out when I passed; they even called me Miss. And even Miss Kellow was polite to me. I had no duties in the kitchen at all; my task was to look after Mellyora's clothes, do her hair, walk with her, read with her and to her, talk to her. The life of a lady! I assured myself. And it was now two years since I had put myself up for hire at Trelinket Fair.

But I had much to achieve. I was always a little downcast when Mellyora received invitations and went off on visits. Sometimes Miss Kellow accompanied her, sometimes her father; I never did. None of those invitations, naturally, was extended to Mellyora's maid, companion, whatever one liked to call her.

She often went to call at the doctor's house with her father; on very rare occasions she went to the Abbas; she never went to the Dower House because, as she explained to me, Kim's father was a sea captain and he was rarely at home, and during the vacation Kim wasn't expected to entertain; but when she went to the Abbas she often found him there, because he was a friend of Justin's.

After Mellyora returned from a visit to the Abbas she was always subdued and I guessed that the place meant something to her, too—either that or the people. I could see reason in this. It must be wonderful to go boldly into the Abbas as a guest. One day that would happen to me. I was sure of it.

One Easter Sunday I learned more about Mellyora than I had ever known before. Sundays were naturally busy days at the parsonage because of all the church services. The sound of bells went on for most of the day and since we were so near they appeared to be right in the house.

I always went to morning service which I enjoyed, chiefly I have to admit because I would be wearing one of Mellyora's straw hats and one of her gowns; and sitting in the parsonage's pew I felt grand and important I loved the music, too, which always put me in a state of exultation and I liked to praise and give thanks to God who made dreams come true. The sermons I found dull for the Reverend Charles was not an inspired speaker and when, during them, I studied the congregation, my eyes invariably came to rest on the Abbas pews.

These were at the side of the church—set apart from the rest. There were usually quite a number of servants from the house in church. The front row where the family sat was almost always empty.

Immediately behind the Abbas pew were the lovely glass windows said to be some of the best in Cornwall—blue, red, green and mauve glinting in sunshine; they were exquisite and had been given to the church by a St. Larnston a hundred or more years before; on the two walls on either side of the pews were memorials dedicated to past St. Larnstons. Even in church one had the impression that the St. Larnstons owned it like everything else.

The whole family was in the pew this day. I suppose because it was Easter. There was Sir Justin, whose face seemed more purple—just as the parson's seemed more yellow—every time I saw him; there was his wife, Lady St. Larnston, tall with a long, somewhat hooked nose, very imperious and arrogant-looking; and the two sons, Justin and Johnny, who hadn't changed a great deal since that day I had encountered them in the walled garden. Justin looked cold and calm; he was more like his mother than Johnny was, Johnny was short compared with his brother, and lacked Justin's dignity; his eyes kept roaming round the church as though he were looking for someone.

I loved the Easter service and the flowers which decorated the altar; I loved the joyous singing of "Hosanna." I felt I knew what it must be like to be risen from the dead; while, during the sermon I studied the occupants of the Abbas pews, I was thinking of Sir Justin's father fancying Granny and how she went to him in secret for Pedro's sake. I wondered what I should have done in Granny's place.