In any case, I was very tired after the performances and had no wish to go anywhere but home. Ever since I had had that illness before Kate was born, I had tired more easily and I had a greater tendency than before to catch a cold.

This made me doubly glad of Christobel's presence.

We used to enjoy—Maggie and I—seeing Kate come in with Christobel. Kate, rosy-cheeked, glowing with health, eager to tell us what they had done, and Christobel looking very happy and contented.

"We were exploring London," Kate told me. "It is a sort of lesson, isn't it, Christobel?'' she added.

"Well," replied Christobel, "it is knowledge and all knowledge is good."

"That sounds just like a governess, does it not. Mama?" said Kate.

"It is what I strive to be," replied Christobel. "I myself am learning too. I did not realize what a fascinating place London is until Kate reminded me."

"We have been to the Hay market," cried Kate. "Do you know how long it has been there? It has only been there twelve years, so it is not much older than I am. Everything else seems to be so old. It is all hay and straw and horses. There is more to be seen in St. James's Fields."

They would laugh over the people they had seen bargaining and everything seemed very funny when they told it, although on contemplation one might wonder why it had seemed so hilarious. I came to the conclusion that when one was happy things seemed amusing when they might not have otherwise done so.

So Maggie and I would sit and wait for them to return to tell us what they had seen along by the river at Chelsea or near Rosamond's Pond in St. James's Park, When they saw the King sauntering in the park they were most excited and once they saw him along Pall Mall.

Maggie's gratified look of triumph often reminded me that I had almost missed this great opportunity.

Then one winter's day I became ill and was unable to go to the theater.

The doctor was brought to me and he said it was a return of the illness I had had before. I expected it to pass and that I would gradually recover, but it was not quite like that. I did get better, but my cough remained and I was very tired, and even when the spring came, I was not really well.

Often I saw Maggie watching me gravely.

She said: "You are not fit to go back to the theater." I protested but in my heart I knew that she was right.

"I shall be better when the summer comes," I said.

But my cough persisted.

For so long I had been shut in with my comfortable life that I had not thought of change. Christobel had solved several problems for us; we had gone on blithely. The country might be at war with the Dutch, but that was far away and did not concern us. There was constant talk about the possibility of the King's having no heir and the Duke of York's coming to the throne and whether the country would tolerate a Catholic monarch.

We gave little thought to that either. I was deeply concerned with my poor health. I had saved a little money, but that would not last forever and if I were not well enough to work during the summer, could I expect to in winter? I felt I had already taken more from Maggie than I could possibly repay. When I broached the subject to her she was indignant. I must not talk about money. We could manage. Christobel was undemanding and, as she was perceptive, she was already aware of my anxiety and its cause. She had secretly told Maggie that she would accept a lower salary, for this was her life now and she could not bear to be parted from Kate or any of us.

I was very fortunate, I knew, to be surrounded by such good people whom I loved; but I continued to worry.

It was September. Kate had been ten years old in June. The weather had been sunny and mellow and very pleasant, as it often was at that time of year, and I had been taking a short walk every day. I did not want anyone to go with me because I was apt to get a little breathless and needed to pause for a few moments before proceeding. But my spirits had risen of late, for I had been feeling a little better and my walks became a little longer every day.

I told myself this illness was passing. I had been ill before, when I was going to have Kate, and I had recovered then. I was going to be all right.

I still thought about Jack and I often wondered what he was doing now. Although I had been relieved that he had made no more efforts to see Kate, I was a little disappointed that he had not. How perverse one can be where one's emotions are concerned! Although I told myself that he was a black-hearted villain, somewhere in the depths of my emotions I was always hoping that I should see him.

So, during these little walks of mine, I often found my steps leading me to those lodgings of his where I had spent those blissful ignorant weeks when I had believed myself to be his wife. I supposed in my heart I could not really regret them, for I had never been—nor ever would be—so happy again, and during that time Kate had been conceived. So I had this desire to see the place and my steps invariably led me there.

I made a habit of remaining some distance from the house. I was afraid that Jack might suddenly appear, and how embarrassed I should be if he found me gazing up at it. I should have been utterly betrayed.

I would stand on the corner of the street. I would be hidden from view and, if by some chance he should appear, I could make a hasty retreat.

I felt exhilarated by the very sight of the building. I felt sure now that I should soon be well. It was only a pity that it was not the spring that was on its way instead of the autumn. But I would be well, I was certain of it. Meanwhile there was so much to remember. That first time he had taken me there. My shocked horror. And then, when I returned, how different! Although it was not really. It was just that he was deceiving me.

I stepped back against the wall. Someone was coming out of the house.

I stared. It was not Jack. It was Kate and Christobel.

For a moment I thought I was dreaming. Kate and Christobel in Jack's lodgings! It could not be.

They had turned and were walking back along the street the way they would take back to Maggie's house.

I stared after them. There was no doubt. It was Kate and Christobel, and they had come out of Jack's lodgings. What could it mean?

For some seconds I felt too numbed to move. I watched their retreating figures and told myself that I had imagined this. It was someone else.

But how could I mistake my own child? And there was Christobel with her.

What could it mean? I would soon know. They would have to explain to me.

I walked slowly back to the house. My breath was short and a little painful. Every now and then I had to pause.

When I returned to the house they were not there.

Maggie was in the parlor.

"Something has happened, Sarah!" she cried. "You look white as a sheet. You've overdone it. I knew you would. You go too quickly. You've got to take it more easily. Just because you feel a little better, you've got to dash around like a madwoman."

I let her scold on. I wanted to tell her ... but I did not know where to begin. It would seem to her as incredible as it seemed to me.

She led me to a chair and said she would get something for me.

When she had left me, I asked myself if I should tell her. No, I thought. Not yet. I must think what to do. She will think I am foolish ... imagining things. I could hear her saying, "And what, may I ask, were you doing outside his lodgings?"

I had made a mistake, I kept telling myself. Of course, the two I had seen emerging from the lodgings were not Kate and Christobel. They had merely looked like them.

That was the answer. I was not well. I was letting my foolish imagination take possession of my common sense.

I would ask them and they would stare at me in bewilderment.

Of course, they could not have been in that place.

But I had seen them.

Maggie came back with a glass of wine.

"This will warm you," she said. "Then I am going to say you should go to bed. You've overtired yourself, that's what it is. I'll bring you up something later on. First you must rest for a while."

I almost told her. But I could not bring myself to. I was clinging to the belief that I had been mistaken.

It had to be. What other answer was there?

I lay in my bed. I should have to speak to them first, to Kate, or perhaps to Christobel. I had to hear from their lips that I could not have seen them emerge from Lord Rosslyn's lodgings.

They were down there now. I could hear them laughing. They would be telling Maggie about their adventures. They would not tell her that they had been to those lodgings. Maggie would not be laughing if they had. She would have been as horrified as I was.

Kate would have been sad when she heard I was unwell. She would have wanted to come up and see me. I could hear Maggie telling her that it would be better for me to rest. I had been doing too much too quickly and I had tired myself.

The suspense was becoming too much for me. I could hear their steps on the stairs. They were going to their beds now. I saw the light of a candle through a crack in the door.

I heard their voices, whispering so as not to disturb me as they said goodnight to each other, then all was silent. But, as I expected, I could not sleep. I would speak to them in the morning. To Kate? Why had Kate not mentioned the fact that she had seen Lord Rosslyn? She would have been excited by the encounter. When he had saved her from being trampled underfoot by the crowd, she had clearly been impressed by him and would not, I was sure, forget him easily. But I had been in bed when she came back with Christobel. There had been no opportunity to tell me. But I had presumed that it had been the first time they had visited his lodgings.

How foolish I was! I seemed to have lost my grip on common sense. There was one way of finding out ... I had made up my mind.

I slipped out of bed and put on a dressing gown.

I left my bedroom and knocked lightly on Christobel's door.

After a pause she said: "Come in."

I went in. She started up from her bed. "Sarah?" she said in a startled voice. "Are you ill?"

"No," I said. I sat on the bed close to her. "Only puzzled ... and anxious."

"Why? What has happened?"

I came straight to the point. I had delayed too long. I said: "I saw you today ... I saw you and Kate coming out of Lord Rosslyn's lodgings."

The color suffused her face. She was staring at me in horror.

I knew at once that, although I had been trying to convince myself that what I feared was not true, I had been right. Of course I had. I had never really had any doubt of it.

As she said nothing, I went on: "I was shocked. I could not imagine why you should be taking Kate to visit that man. I should like an explanation."

She was staring into space. I saw the fear in her face. She was biting her lips nervously. She looked as though she were trying to come to a decision.

I said coldly: "You had better tell me. Was it your first visit ... or do you make a habit of calling there? Is he a friend of yours ... of Kate's?"

Still she said nothing.

"Christobel, I insist that you tell me what is going on."

She murmured very quietly: "Perhaps ... perhaps you should ask him."

I stared at her. "Ask him? I do not see him. I have no wish to see him. Listen, Christobel, you live here ... you work for us. I have a right to know where you are taking my daughter. I insist you tell me without delay. I demand to know what you were doing in Lord Rosslyn's lodgings with my daughter this afternoon."

She said, after a pause, speaking very slowly: "I suppose I must tell you. There is nothing else I can do."

"Indeed there is not," I said. "So pray begin."

"It ... it was Lord Rosslyn who wished me to come here."

"What? You are supposed to be the impoverished daughter of gentlefolk seeking a home in exchange for her services as a governess."

"That is true. I did need that. It is true, I tell you. And I have been happy here."

"So happy that you spent your time tricking us."

"It was not like that."

"Was it not? When you slyly take my daughter to visit this man and tell me nothing about it."

"He arranged for me to come here so that I could look after Kate, give her the education he thought she should have and tell him of her progress."