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"Spoilt brat he be!" said Mrs. Soady. "Who do he think he is? Why, 'tis a beautiful romance, I'll swear, and no more than Mamazel deserves."
"Why yes, Mrs. Soady, 'tis rightly so, but you see the boy be the master ... or so Mr. Fitt tells me. If he lives till he's twenty-one he'll have a fortune, and the Mounseer will be left a little money. If the little 'un dies, 'tis the Mounseer that the fortune goes to."
Bet said with a giggle: " 'Tis a wonder he do take such care of the little'un!"
"Now, Bet!" said Mrs. Soady sharply.
"That's foreigners for you!" said the footman.
"The things they be up to!" said Mrs. Soady. "The idea of leaving a fortune to a little 'un like that."
"'Tis a queer set-up," admitted Mr. Meaker. "It was a very interesting conversation I had with Mr. Fitt."
Mrs. Soady was watching Mr. Meaker. There he was, enjoying all
the attention that was focussed on him and thinking himself so clever, so full of knowledge.
If he did know what I do know! thought Mrs. Soady. Him and his Mr. Fitt!
And when they were alone together she said to him: "You and your Mr. Fitt!"
Then she sat down in a chair and laughed.
"What's so fu
"I could tell you something, Mr. Meaker, that would make your eyes pop out of your head."
"Reckon you could, Mrs. Soady."
"It 'ud startle 'ee more than anything Mr. Fitt could tell 'ee."
"Reckon it would, Mrs. Soady."
Mrs. Soady, tempted, trembled on the brink of disclosure. Mr. Meaker bent towards her, his eyes beaming, flattering, begging for the secret.
"Oh well," said Mrs. Soady, "reckon you ought to know. You're the head of the men servants, and 'tain't right you shouldn't know. But, mind 'ee, Mr. Meaker, 'tis between us two."
"Why, yes, Mrs. Soady. Won't get no farther than me."
"You've been wondering why Mamazel is treated as she is. You've been asking yourself why she's been treated like one of the family. Well, I'll tell 'ee. She is one of the family."
"One of the family, Mrs. Soady?"
Mrs. Soady chuckled. "A member of the family all right. She's the master's own daughter."
Mr. Meaker's eyes were round with wonder and appreciation.
"Though," said Mrs. Soady, "what they do call illegitimate. In other words ..."
"A bastard!" whispered Mr. Meaker.
The weather was mild all through November and into December. There was great activity in the house. The preparations for the wedding on Christmas Day went on and, although they had first decided that it must be a quiet wedding, the original plans grew and so many guests were asked that it would be quite a grand occasion after all.
Letters came from Fermor to Caroline. Melisande would watch her receive them, take them to her room and emerge starry-eyed.
He must be a good letter-writer. He would be. But nothing he would say could be trusted. Melisande had gathered that only once did he refer to her in those letters. Caroline had read out to her what he had said: "Felicitations to your father, old We
Sometimes it was more than a pleasure, it was a necessity to escape from the house and the bustle of preparation. How shall I feel when he comes back again ? wondered Melisande. How shall I feel on the day he marries Caroline?
It was a comfort to find Leon waiting for her on the shore at that spot where they had first met and which had now become an accepted meeting place. If there was nothing to detain her in the house, she would often make her way there. If the boy was inclined to come out, they would both be there; if not, Leon would come alone. Melisande could not help feeling relieved when Raoul did not come; he was bright and intelligent, often amusing, but every now and then a certain resentment would leap into his ma
Melisande was glad therefore one day during the second week of December to arrive on the shore and find Leon alone. He was stretched out on the sand, his back propped up against a rock; and when he saw her he leaped to his feet. There was no mistaking the pleasure in his face.
"I was so hoping you'd come," he said.
"It is just for half an hour. I must not stay longer. It gets dark so early."
"I'll walk back with you, so you needn't fear the dark."
"Thanks. But I shall be expected back soon. There is a good deal to do. Do you realize that it is only two weeks to Christmas?"
"And the wedding. I suppose the bridgroom will soon be coming."
"We don't expect him until a day or so before Christmas."
"Melisande. . . . May I call you that? It is what I call you in my thoughts."
"Please do."
"Then to you I may be Leon?"
"Yes, when we are together like this. I think when others are present it should be Monsieur de la Roche and Mademoiselle St. Martin."
"Very well. That shall be our rule. What will you do after the wedding, Melisande?"
"Sir Charles has spoken to me. He has suggested I might stay."
"After Miss Treve
"Yes. I can make myself useful in the house. There is much I can do, he says. His daughter will be gone and she will take We
"He seems a very kind man.'*
"He is a kind man. Few know how kind. But I know. I have seen that kindness. He says that there will be duties for me, and that I seem to be making a home there. He says the Danesboroughs like me . . . and others. He mentioned you. He said that now I have friends here, I would not wish to leave."
"It's the best news I've heard for a long time."
"For you?"
"For me. I have wondered what it would be like here if you left."
"Don't you like this place?"
"I have liked it very much since we met. Our friendship has made a great difference to me." He picked up a stone and threw it into the sea. They watched it hit the water, rise and fall again. "Well, now our friendship goes on."
"I hope it will go on for a long time. But you will not stay here for the summer."
"In the summer I suppose we must go to a different climate. We should go to Switzerland . . . high in the mountains."
"That sounds very pleasant."
He smiled his melancholy smile. "I am ungrateful, you are thinking. I am disgruntled. Sometimes I rail against fate. I say, 'Why should some be born to riches, others to poverty?' "