"You're right," I said.

Again that sharp look in my direction. Then she shrugged her shoulders. "Ought never to have done it."

She turned and we went on our way. She paused by a door, tapped on it and a voice called, "Come in." Janet turned to me and put her fingers to her lips.

I heard the voice say: "Is that you, Janet?"

"It is, Mrs. Mateland."

I was right. It was Janet. I felt I had made some progress.

"Miss Susannah's home, Mrs. Mateland."

I went into the room.

So this was Emerald, the wife of David whom my father had killed in a duel. She was sitting in a chair away from the light She was evidently a tall woman and very slender; her expression was resigned, her face pale and her hair turning gray.

"Susannah ..." she said.

I heard myself say: "Oh, Aunt Emerald, it is good to see you."

"I thought you were never coming." Her voice sounded peevish.

"There were things to settle," I said, and kissed her papery cheek.

"This terrible thing," she began. "Esmond ..."

"I know," I murmured.

"It was sudden. That fearful illness. He was well the week before and then he suddenly sickened and was dead in a week."

"What was it?"

"Some sort of fever ... gastric fever. If only Elizabeth were alive now. She would have been such a comfort. Malcolm is so practical. He arranged everything. Oh, my dear Susannah, we must mourn together. I know you were going to marry him, but he was my son ... my only son. All I had. There's no one now."

"We must comfort each other," I said.

She gave a strange little snort.

"That's a bit incongruous, isn't it?"

I patted her hand because I was not sure what to reply.

"Well," she went on, "we shall have to try and get along now. I take it you don't want to turn me out of my home."

"Aunt Emerald! How can you suggest such a thing!"

"Well, I suppose I haven't the same rights now that Esmond has gone. As his mother, it was natural... oh, never mind now. What is to be will be. It's all so upsetting."

"I didn't intend to disturb anyone," I assured her. "I want it to be the same."

"Your travels have done you good, Susannah."

"Oh, you mean I've changed."

"I don't know. I suppose it's seeing you again after all this time. You seem different somehow. I suppose all that traveling would change a person."

"In what way, Aunt Emerald?" I asked anxiously.

"Just a feeling. I thought you seemed less ... well, I always felt you were hard, Susannah. I don't know... ."

"Tell me about your eyes, Aunt Emerald."

"They're getting steadily worse."

"Can nothing be done?"

"No, it's an old complaint. Lots of people have it. I've just got to endure it."

"I am sorry."

"There! That's what I mean. You've got gentler. You sound as though you really care. I didn't think you ever gave my eyes a thought."

I turned away. She was thinking my concern for her sight was purely altruistic. I was sorry for her, but I couldn't help seeing this affliction of hers as something to my advantage.

She went on: "Would you like some tea? Or would you like to go to your room first?"

A sudden thought had come to me. I must discover which was my room. If I waited until my bags were put in it I should be able to identify it by them.

I said: "I wonder if my bags have come yet."

"Pull the bell rope," she said. "I'll get them to bring some tea and they can let us know when your bags arrive."

Janet came back.

"Ask them to send up some tea, Janet," said Emerald.

Janet nodded and went out.

"Janet doesn't change much," I ventured.

"Janet... oh. She's too forward if you ask me. Seems to think she is in some special position. I was surprised she stayed after your father went all those years ago. She came with Anabel from her home, you know. You must have seen Anabel with your father."

"Yes."

"On that ridiculous island. Sometimes I think there's a streak of madness in the Matelands."

"Very likely," I said with a little laugh.

"That awful affair. Two brothers ... I'll never get over it. I was glad that Esmond was too young to know what it was all about. And then Joel's going off to that island and living there like some nabob or something. Your father always was so flamboyant. So was David for that matter. I married into a strange family."

"Well, that was a long time ago, Aunt Emerald."

"Many weary years ago. There must be a lot you have to tell me ... about them ... and everything."

"Sometime I will," I said.

Tea was brought in.

"Susannah, will you pour?" she asked. "I can't see very well. I'm apt to slop the tea over into the saucer."

I sat down, poured out and took a cup to her. There were some little cakes on a plate and some bread and butter.

"Esmond was very restless after you'd gone," she went on. "Really, Susannah, need you have stayed away so long?"

"It was so far away, you see, and having made that long journey, I felt I had to stay a little while."

"Trust you to find out your father's hiding place! And then you went back to Sydney and while you were away the whole thing blew up. What a climax to all that secret melodrama. Fitting in a way."

"It was ... horrible," I said vehemently.

"But you were well out of it, Susannah."

"Sometimes I wish ..."

She was waiting. I must be careful. I must not show my feelings too intensely. I had a feeling that Susannah had never felt deeply about anything that did not concern herself.

"I wish," I finished lamely, "that they had accompanied me to Sydney. Tell me of Esmond."

There was a brief silence, then she said: "It was a return of that mysterious illness he had before you went away. Do you remember?"

I nodded.

"He was ill then ... desperately ill. As you know, we thought that was the end ... but he recovered. We thought he would the second time. It was a great blow. Malcolm took over estate matters. He's very friendly with Jeff Carleton."

"Oh, is he?" I said.

"Yes. I believe Jeff thinks the place should have gone to Malcolm after Esmond. In fact I thought it might. But your grandfather always had a prejudice against Malcolm because of his grandfather. They hated each other, those two brothers. I never knew such a family for feuds."

I felt a tremor of uneasiness. I should know these people. I was skating on very thin ice and I must inevitably come to a spot where the ice was too thin—and then would be disaster.

"I dare say Jeff Carleton will be wanting to see you soon. He's a bit uneasy about things, but of course that's natural."

"Of course," I replied, desperately searching in my mind for some clue received in the past which would tell me who Jeff Carleton was.

"He's hoping everything will be run in the same way. I don't suppose you'll want to change anything. I always thought dear Esmond was a trifle too easygoing."

I nodded. I was building up a picture of Esmond. Quiet. Easygoing.

"I think he gave Jeff rather a free hand and I dare say Jeff is hoping that will continue."

"I dare say," I said.

"There was always such a fuss about the estate and I suppose when David died Jeff assumed authority. He got a taste for it, Esmond being so young."

"And easygoing," I added.

She nodded.

I drank some of the hot tea. It was reviving, but I could eat nothing. I was too overwrought.

Emerald continued to talk and desperately I floundered, trying to catch at some thread and comment sensibly. It was exhausting and when there was a knock on the door and Janet entered to say that my bags were now in my room I rose with alacrity. I was looking forward to a few hours in which to assimilate what I had learned.

I rose and said I would go to my room.

"See you at dinner," said Emerald.

I went out. Now was the moment to look for my room. I guessed it would be on the next floor. I looked over my shoulder furtively. It was important that no one see me. I hurried up the stairs. As I reached the top a figure emerged from the far end of the corridor. It was Janet.

"Just going to your room, Miss Susannah?" she said.

"Er ... yes," I replied.

"Well, your bags are there. I went up with them to make sure everything was all right."

"Oh, thank you." Go away, I wanted to shout. What are you hanging about for? It was almost as though she knew what a quandary I was in and wanted to catch me.

I walked past her and she started towards the stairs. There was a window in the corridor. I went to it and loitered as though looking down on the scene below—at the green lawns and the woodlands in the distance.

I thought she had gone and turned towards the first door. I was about to open it swiftly when I heard her voice. "No ... no ... I shouldn't, Miss Susannah. I shouldn't if I were you."

She had come back and was standing behind me, her hand on my arm.

"It would be too painful for you. It's just as he left it. His mother wouldn't let us change it. I think she comes up here sometimes. It's not easy for her to get up. I think she just sits there and broods, grieving because he's gone."

Esmond's room! I thought. What a lucky escape! She thought I was going in to brood.

I wanted to get rid of her. I said with what I felt was the right amount of emotion: "I have to go in, Janet."

She sighed and stepped into the room with me. It was very neat. There was his bed, the line of bookshelves along one wall, the bureau in the corner, the armchairs, the bronze-colored curtains with a chrysanthemum pattern on them.