“Not too much,” I promised. But I knew Stirling wanted an early marriage and everything now would be what Stirling wanted.

The other dissenter was Lizzie. How dramatic—and rather tiresome—she had become since Mamma died. Lizzie had to wait until I was in bed before she came in, glided was the word, with her candle held high like some ghost. She was in a long white flannelette nightdress which added to the ghostly illusion. I was aware of being too excited for sleep, and was going over the wonderful moment when Stirling asked me to marry him.

She pushed open the door and I said: “What are you doing roaming about the house. Lizzie? You might set your nightdress alight with that candle.”

“I have to come and see you. Miss Minta.”

“At this time of night!”

“Time doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I think it does, Lizzie, because I’m tired and you ought to be in bed.”

She took no notice but sat on the edge of my bed.

So you’re going to get married . to him. “

“I’m going to marry Mr. Stirling Herrick, if that’s to whom you refer.”

“That’s him, all right. And the likeness is there. You’d know who he is at once.”

“Please don’t speak of my future husband disrespectfully, Lizzie.”

“There’s something unnatural about it. It seems a funny thing to me.

His father wanting to marry your mother and now he’s here and going to marry you. “

“What are you talking about. Lizzie.”

“It was his father who was here all those years ago.”

“His father! That was Mrs. Herrick’s husband.”

“A real mix-up,” said Lizzie.

“That’s what I think’s so funny about it. Your mother was mad about him and she wasn’t the only one.”

“Go to bed. Lizzie. You’re rambling.”

“No I’m not. What I say is true. It’s as though he’s come back. In a way I always thought he would.”

Events started to fall into shape in my mind. I said: “Lizzie, do you mean that my mother’s artist was …”

That’s right. Mr. Charles Herrick. You can see his name on some of the drawings in the studio cupboard. He came here to teach her drawing, then he went away . sent away to Australia for theft and your mother never saw him again. She was never the same after, and now he’s dead they say, but there’s this other one and you’re planning to marry him. Doesn’t that seem like some sort of fate? “

“I don’t understand it. I think you could be mistaken.”

“I’m not mistaken. There’s some who don’t lie down when they’re dead and he’s one of them.”

“You’re making a dramatic situation out of a perfectly normal one.”

“I hope so. Miss Minta. I certainly hope so. But how did he come here, out of the blue? He’s bewitched you just as his father did your mother . and others.”

“I’n ask Mr. Herrick about this when he comes back.”

“You ask him and listen carefully to the answers.”

“Now, Lizzie, I’m sleepy.”

“I take the hint, but I’ve warned you. I can’t do more than that.”

Then she picked up the candle and went out.

But I did not sleep. I was too excited. Could it be true that Stirling’s father was my mother’s artist? And what a strange coincidence that Nora’s scarf should have blown over our wall. What did it mean? But did it matter? What was important was that Stirling had asked me to marry him. Was it the house he wanted, as Lucie seemed to suggest? Was it some sort of pattern as Lizzie thought it to be? And finally, what did it matter? I was going to marry Stirling.

Stirling said there was no need for delay. He was eager to become my husband.

I mentioned what Lizzie had told me.

“It’s true,” he admitted, ‘that my father was a drawing-master at Whiteladies, wrongly accused of theft and sent to Australia. There he quickly made good. It was a grossly unfair charge to make against a great man. When I came to England to take Nora back I naturally wanted to look at the house where my father had worked, Nora’s scarf blew over the wall and we came in to get it. “

There seemed nothing extraordinary about that. It was all so logical—except of course for the fact that Stirling had never mentioned his father’s connection with the house before this.

“I’m sorry about your father,” I said.

“He wouldn’t need pity.”

“But to be wrongly accused.”

“It happened often in those days.”

“You were so fond of him, Stirling.”

“He was my father.”

“You have a certain reverence for him. It’s the same with Nora.”

“If you had known him you would have understood.”

“Poor Nora! How she must have suffered when he died!”

He didn’t speak but turned his face away. I feared I had been tactless. He never liked to speak of Nora. I thought it was because he was worried about her future so I said that if ever she wanted to come to Whiteladies she would be very welcome.

“After all, she is like your sister. I know she is, in fact, your stepmother, but that seems ridiculous. She’s so attractive. I always feel unworldly beside her. I wish I were more like her.”

Stirling didn’t say anything; he just stared ahead as though I weren’t there. He’s thinking of his father, I told myself; and I was glad that he was capable of such deep devotion.

There were so many preparations for the marriage. Maud Mathers was excited by it and envious in the nicest possible way. She immediately began working out how she would decorate the church.

“I wish it were May instead of April, she said.

“It would give us more opportunity with the flowers.”

Lucie supervised the making of my wedding-dress. We had Jenny Callow and her daughter Flora to come in and work on it and make some other clothes for me. It was like old times because when I was a little girl before we became so poor. Jenny used to work full time at Whiteladies.

Flora was a little girl then, learning her trade from her mother. I remember her standing by holding the pins. Then Jenny had to go and people used to get her to do dressmaking for them so that she could make a living.

The only person I could chatter with was Maud. Lucie would have been ideal but I couldn’t bear her silent disapproval. I would have liked to talk to Nora but she kept out of the way. I was disappointed; I thought she was going to be like a sister. Maud wanted to know where we were going for the honeymoon and when I told her that we hadn’t discussed this she was faintly disappointed.

“Venice!” she said.

“Sailing down the Grand Canal in a gondola. Or perhaps Florence. Strolling to the bridge where Dante and Beatrice met. Rome and the Forum and standing on the spot where Julius Caesar was struck down. I always think Italy is the place for honeymoons.”

I was surprised. I had not thought Maud so romantic.

When I mentioned a honeymoon to Stirling he said: “Why should we go away? What could be more fascinating than Whiteladies?”

“You mean stay at home!”

“It’s only just become my home,” said Stirling. There’s nothing I’d like so much as to explore it. Of course if you would like to go away”

But I wanted to do exactly what he wanted. There won’t be a honeymoon yet,” I told Maud. That will come later.”

So the dresses were made and the cake baked; and Father said there was no need to consider the expense of the wedding. I was getting a handsome settlement and because of my marriage Whiteladies would be gradually restored to its old magnificence.

A week before the wedding Lucie came to my room one night for a talk.

There’s just one thing I want to say, Minta,” she told me.

“If you want to change your mind you shouldn’t hesitate.”

“Change my mind! Whatever for?”

“It’s all been rather hurried and there’s been so much talk about how good this is for Whiteladies. But if you decided not to marry, we’d manage. We’ve managed so far. I don’t want you to feel you have to marry for the sake of the house.”

“I never felt that for one moment, Lucie. I love the house and hate to see it crumbling away, but I wouldn’t marry tor it. It’s just the greatest good fortune that Stirling happens to be rich and loves the house. He’s going to put it all to rights. You’ll be glad. I know you will. You’ve worried a lot about the house. “

“I’ll be glad, of course, but nothing would compensate for your making the wrong marriage.”

“Set your mind at rest. The reason I am marrying Stirling is because I love him.”

That satisfied her. She started to talk about the wedding and hoped Maud would look well in the cerise-coloured silk she had chosen. Maud was to be Maid of Honour. I had hoped Nora would be but she had said it would be absurd for a married woman to take the part and had shown so clearly that she did not wish for it that I hadn’t tried to persuade her. Lucie said it was a pity Druscilla wasn’t old enough to be a bridesmaid and I agreed. We had asked Dr. Hunter to be best man.

There again Franklyn would have been the obvious choice but somehow it seemed wrong to ask him because I knew so many people had expected him to be the bridegroom at my wedding. But, as I said, what did all this matter? The important thing was that I married Stirling.

And so at last came our wedding-day—the happiest day of my life.

After Mr. Mathers had performed the ceremony we went back to Whiteladies and the reception was held in the great hall where the brides of our family had celebrated their marriages through the centuries. On that day Stirling seemed as though he were enraptured.

He loves me, I thought. He couldn’t look like that if he did not.