"Oh yes," I assured her, although I had never done so.

"It is very delicate work."

"I can do it."

"I shall need you to lay out my things every evening at seven. You will bring up the water for my bath. You will help me dress."

"Yes," I said. "Which dress do you wish to wear tonight?"

She had challenged me and I was going to prove my efficiency.

"Oh ... the gray satin."

"Very well."

I turned to the wardrobe. She sat down by the mirror and began playing nervously with the combs and brushes while I went to the wardrobe and took out the clothes. I marveled at the dresses. I had never seen anything so magnificent. I couldn't resist stroking the velvets and satins. I found the gray satin, examined it, and was laying it out on the bed when the door opened and Justin St. Larnston came in.

"My darling!" It was like a whisper, but I heard the undertone of restless passion. She had risen and gone to him; in spite of my presence she would have embraced him had he given her some encouragement. "I wondered what had happened to you. I had expected you ..."

"Judith!" His voice was cold, like a warning.

She laughed and said, "Oh, this is Carlee, the new maid."

We looked at each other. He hadn't really changed much from that very young man who had been present when they caught me in the wall. There was no recognition in his glance. He had forgotten that incident as soon as it was over, and the child from the cottages had made no impression on him.

He said: "Well, now you will have what you've been wanting."

"I don't want anything in the world but ..."

He was almost willing her to silence. He said to me: "You can go now. Carlee, is it? Mrs. St. Larnston will ring when she needs you."

I bowed my head slightly and as I walked across the room I could feel her watching me and watching him at the same time. I knew what she was thinking because of what I had overheard when I was hidden in the cupboard in this very room. She was a violently jealous woman; she adored her husband; she could not bear him to look at another woman—even her own maid.

I touched the coils of hair on the top of my head; I hoped that the complacency I felt did not show. I was thinking as I went back to my room that money, position didn't necessarily make people happy. It was a good thing to remember when one was as proud as I was and found oneself suddenly in a humiliating position.

Those first days in the Abbas will stand out clearly forever in my mind. The house itself fascinated me even more than the people who lived in it. There was about it a brooding atmosphere of timelessness. It was so easy— when one was alone—to believe oneself to be in another age. Ever since I had heard the story of the Virgins my imagination had been captured; often I had pictured myself exploring the Abbas and this was one of those rare occasions when reality surpassed the imagination.

These lofty rooms with their carved and decorated ceilings—some painted, some inscribed in Latin or Cornish, were a delight to me. I loved to finger the rich stuff of curtains, to take off my shoes and feel the pile of carpet I liked to sit on chairs and settees and imagine myself giving orders; and I sometimes talked to myself as though I were the mistress of the house. It became a game I enjoyed and I never lost an opportunity of playing it But although I admired so much the luxuriously appointed apartments which were used by the family, I was drawn again and again to that wing of the house which was hardly ever used and which had obviously been part of the old convent. This was where Johnny had taken me on the night of the ball. There was about it an odor which both repelled and fascinated; a dank dark smell; a smell of the past. The staircases which seemed to appear suddenly and wind up for a few stairs and then stop at a door or a corridor; the stone which had been worn down by millions of steps; those strange little alcoves, with slitlike windows, which had been the nuns' cells; and underground were the dungeons, for the place had had its prison. I discovered the chapel—dark and chill—with its ancient triptych, its wooden pews, stone-flagged floor, its altar on which stood candles as though in readiness for the inhabitants of the house to come and worship. But I knew it was never used now because the St. Larnstons worshiped at St. Larnston Church.

In this part of the house the seven virgins had lived; their feet had trod the same stone corridors; their hands had clasped the rope as they climbed the steep stairs.

I began to love the house; and since to love was to be happy, I was not unhappy, in spite of petty humiliations, during those days. I had asserted myself in the servants' hall, and had rather enjoyed the battle which had had to be waged there, particularly as I assured myself I had been the victor. I was not beautiful with the finely chiseled features of Judith Der-rise or with the delicate porcelain charm of Mellyora, but with my gleaming black hair, my big eyes which were very good at expressing scorn, and my pride, I was more startlingly attractive. I was tall and slender almost to thinness and possessed an indefinable foreign quality which, I was beginning to realize, could be used to my advantage.

Haggety was aware of it. He had put me at the table next to himself, a fact which I knew displeased Mrs. Rolt because I had heard her protesting. "Oh come now, m'dear," he replied, "she's after all the lady's maid, you should know. A sight different from they maids of yours."

"And where be she come from, I'd like to know."

"That can't be helped. Tis what she be that we have to take account on."

What she be! I thought, smoothing my hands over my hips. Each day, each hour I was becoming more and more reconciled to my life. Humiliations, yes, but life in the Abbas would always be more exciting than anywhere else. And I lived here.

Seated at table in the servants' hall gave me an opportunity to study the members of the household who lived belowstairs. Mr. Haggety at the head of the table—little piggy eyes, lips inclined to slackness at the sight of a succulent dish or female, ruling the roost—the king of the kitchen, the Abbas butler. Next in importance Mrs. Rolt, the housekeeper, self-styled widow but very likely using Mrs. as a courtesy title, hoping that one day Mr. Haggety would put the question and the Mrs. be hers by right when she had changed her name from Rolt to Haggety. Mean, sly, determined to keep her position—head of staff under Mr. Haggety. Then Mrs. Salt the cook, plump as became a cook, devoted to food and gossip; her disposition was a mournful one; she had suffered in her married life and had left her husband whom she talked of whenever possible as "him"; she had left him when she came to the Abbas from the very tip of Cornwall, west of St. Ives; and she expressed great fear that one day he would catch up with her. There was Jane Salt her daughter; a woman of about thirty who was a parlormaid, quiet, self-possessed, devoted to her mother. Then Doll, daughter of a miner, twenty or so, with crimped fair hair and a taste for electric blue which she wore when she had an hour or so off to go courting as she said. Simple-minded Daisy who worked with her in the kitchens, followed her round, imitated her and longed to be courting, and their conversation seemed to be confined to this subject. These servants all lived in the house, but there were also the outside servants who came in for meals. Polore and Mrs. Polore, and their son Willy. Polore and Willy were attached to the stables while Mrs. Polore did housework in the Abbas. There were two mews cottages and the other was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Trelance and their daughter Florrie. The opinion seemed to be that Florrie and Willy should marry; everyone but the couple concerned thought it an excellent idea; only Willy and Florrie held back. But as Mrs. Rolt said: "They'll come to it in time."

So it was a large party who sat round the great refectory table for meals, after the family had eaten. Mrs. Rolt and Mrs. Salt together saw that we lacked for nothing; and, if anything, we ate better than those who sat down in the stately dining room.

I began to enjoy the conversation which was very revealing, for there was little that remained unknown to these people, whether it concerned the house or village affairs.

Doll could always enliven the table with stories of her family's adventures in the mines. Mrs. Rolt declared that some of her talk fair gave her the creeps, and she would shiver and take the opportunity to move closer to Mr. Haggety for protection. Mr. Haggety was not very responsive; he was usually busy prodding my foot under the table, which he seemed to think was a way of letting me know he approved of me.

Mrs. Salt would tell hair-raising stories of her life with "him." And the Polores and Trelances would tell us how the new vicar was settling in and that Mrs. Hemphill was a real Nosy Parker and no mistake—prying here and prying there. She had a nose in the kitchen afore you had time to dust a chair for her to sit on. It was that very first night round the servants' table that I learned that Johnny was at his University and wouldn't be at the Abbas for some weeks. I was pleased. His absence would give me a chance to establish my position in the house.

I had fitted in to the rhythm of the days. My mistress was by no means unkind, indeed she was generous; during those first days she gave me a green dress of which she had tired; my duties were not arduous. I took pleasure in dressing her hair which was of a much finer texture than mine; I was interested in her clothes. I had long periods of freedom, and then I would go to the library, take a book and spend hours in my room reading while I waited for her bell to ring.