Her face was again set into its usual matter-of-fact expression.

"Well, someone's got to go through them sometime. You're taking over where he left off, aren't you?"

"I suppose that's the way to look at it."

I took the key from her.

"All right then, miss," she said. "I'll leave you to it."

"Thank you, Janet."

"Better lock the bureau and put the key back when you've done."

"I will."

The door shut on her. She was clearly very helpful to me but she did make me somewhat anxious. She was always popping up and giving me the impression that she knew something.

But perhaps that feeling was due to my uneasy conscience.

I opened the bureau.

There were stacks of paper in neat little cubbyholes. I looked at some of them. They were receipted bills and various accounts of the amount of produce that the farms had yielded. There were also accounts concerning the repairs to the castle.

All things I should know about. Then, as I was putting back one stack of bills, my hand touched a bundle of small leather-bound books. I took them out. They were tied together with red tape; they were diaries and they had been placed in date order. I looked at the bottom one. It had been started last year and the entries stopped abruptly in November. I knew why. That was when Esmond had died.

These were Esmond's diaries and by reading through them I could get some idea of the life he had lived.

I sat with the books in my hands. I felt as though I were desecrating a tomb. The honorable side of my nature would keep popping up to disconcert me. That it still existed might be surprising but it was there.

The instinct for survival, however, was stronger and I could see what a profitable day this was going to be. I was lucky to have found my way into this room so soon and for that I had to thank Janet. What I could learn here was going to be of the greatest value.

I opened the first of the diaries. The entries were brief. For instance:

Tantalus lost a shoe this morning. Took to Jolly. Waited while he shod her and talked about his daughter who is getting married this year. Late for meeting with S. She was furious. Hasn't spoken to me all day.

I glanced through the pages.

Went to Bray Woods with S. Lovely day. S. in good mood, so I was too. Went out with Jeff. He's anxious for me to learn about the estate. Quite enjoyed it.

I turned to one of the more recent ones. There was a good deal about Susannah in it and the entries had taken on a new character. They were more emotional than a brief statement of fact and, reading between the lines, I saw that this was because of Susannah.

I picked up the one which would have been written just before Susannah left for Australia. I thought this would tell me more about recent events. I must discover as much as possible about Susannah.

S. upsets me. I don't understand her at all. Sometimes she is enchanting. At others I think she enjoys hurting me. Whatever though makes no difference. She was hateful this morning. Argued all the time. She was rude to poor Saul Cringle. He looked absolutely wretched. When I told her she says things that really cut into people's feelings and destroy their pride and self-respect, she laughed at me. She said I was soft and I would never manage the castle. She said: "I suppose I'll have to marry you or the whole place will go to rack and ruin." When she said that I couldn't stop myself. I said: "Do you mean that, Susannah?" And she said: "Of course I meant it." Then she took my face in her hands and kissed me in a strange way. I felt quite dizzy.

The diary seemed to be all about Susannah now. There was no doubt that she had completely fascinated and bewildered him. They had become engaged. He wanted to marry her at once but she had not finished school yet.

The story emerged. I could picture her with her arrogance which came from a deep assurance of her powers to attract. She had something which was irresistible. She could be cruel and be forgiven for her cruelty. I think it was an excessive physical attraction.

I let the book rest on the bureau as the realization of my folly swept over me. How could I ever have thought that I could be like Susannah?

Then I turned back to the book.

Garth came yesterday. He is going to stay awhile. Went riding together, the three of us. S. has taken a dislike to G. It's a pity because he tries to please. "He's an intruder," she says. She was very rude to him and hinted that he was only the son of the companion, a higher servant. Elizabeth would be furious.

Out riding today. Went past Cringles'. Saul C. was cutting the hedge with a scythe. We stopped to look. S. said she thought some of the fences needed repairing. Saul grew quite red in the face. He looked like a schoolboy who has shirked his homework. And the fact that he is so big—he must stand six feet four high—made me all the more sorry for him. He started making excuses. Susannah said in a voice I never like to hear because it frightens people who depend on the castle for their livelihood, "I should see to those fences if I were you, Saul Cringle." The scythe slipped and he cut himself rather badly. Susannah changed then. She jumped off her horse, threw the reins at me and ran to look what damage had been done. She made Saul go into the cottage and she bound him up herself. I was glad to see the change in her. But that's Susannah. When we rode off she said, "It was nothing. Only a little cut. He's making out it was worse. He wanted me to feel sorry." "Oh, I don't think so," I answered. Then she turned on me and said I was soft again and that I should need her to run the estate. She would know how to deal with people like Saul Cringle. Then she burst out laughing. No, I don't understand Susannah.

She seems to want to persecute Saul Cringle. She finds fault with everything on the farm. She acts very strangely. One night I saw her coming in late. It was raining and she was wet through. I went out to meet her and she was very angry with me. "Look here, Esmond Mateland," she said, "if you're going to spy on me, I won't marry you. I'd never marry a man who spied."

All day Susannah has hardly spoken to me. She came to my room last night. She had on a robe and nothing else. She took it off and slipped into my bed. She kept laughing. She said, "If you're going to marry me you'll have to get used to this." Oh, Susannah... .

I really could not read any more. He's dead, I kept telling myself. I am prying into what is for him alone.

I was not surprised that Susannah had gone to his room like that. Her sensuality was at the very heart of her attraction. There was promise in the looks she cast in the direction of those she wished to enslave; and I had a notion that if the whim took her she would not be averse to keeping that promise.

I wondered how it had been with her and Philip. But of course she had been going to marry Esmond.

I did not want to read any more. And yet I felt impelled to. If I were going to play my assumed character to perfection I must know exactly what she was like. The effect she had had on Esmond told me a good deal; and I had seen her with Philip.

How had I ever thought that I could be Susannah!

I put together the estate papers and the diaries. I must take them to my room and study them closely.

I locked the bureau, replaced the key in the vase and shut the door of Esmond's room quietly behind me.

I sat up in bed that night reading through the estate papers. I was sure I should now be able to ride round the estate and talk to people as though I knew them. I was filled with a new confidence. I tried out some of my newly found knowledge on Emerald and I was sure that I did very well. It was easy with her though; she was not one to concern herself with the people on the estate, except of course to provide them with coal and blankets for Christmas and hot cross buns at Easter (a quaint custom which had been carried out for more than a hundred years at Mateland and had been established by a well-meaning dowager) and a goose at Michaelmas. Not that she concerned herself with acquiring these benefits, but she did order that they should be distributed. I supposed I should do that now.

I chatted knowledgeably with Janet, who nodded her head with an air of approval, making me feel like a child who has learned her lessons well.

The next days passed smoothly and I spent the mornings riding round the estate. I stopped and visited some of them, confident in my newly acquired knowledge. Old Mrs. Bell dusted a chair for me and began to tell me about the roof which leaked.

"It is in hand, Mrs. Bell," I was able to tell her. "The thatcher will be along very soon."

"Oh, Miss Susannah," she cried, "I'll be right glad, I will. It ain't nice to be in bed and not be knowing whether the rain is coming in on you or not."

I replied that I was sure it wasn't and she must always let either me or Mr. Carleton know if there was anything else that needed to be done.

"Bless you, Miss Susannah," she said.

"We're going to look after you now, Mrs. Bell," I assured her.

"Well, that's nice. You've come back different, Miss Susannah, if you don't mind me saying so. ... Softer like. Mr. Esmond he was a soft kind sort of gentleman, always promising though not always doing ... if you know what I mean. Praise God, it will be different now... ."

"I shall do my best to make everyone comfortable," I replied. "It's a pity if they are not in such lovely surroundings."

"Oh, it's beautiful, miss. That's what I said to Bell when we come here ... it's fifty years ago, miss."