Helen paused, searching for words to portray a personality that by its very uniqueness defied simple description. The icon the world had worshipped was merely the public image of the complex, complicated, and all too human woman Helen had known.

"Shes been called so many things. A gifted child prodigy they said when she was six, a remarkable composer they said when she was twenty, and at thirty they called her a master. Some things they said arent written down in those articles. There were those who called her arrogant, temperamental, an egotistical perfectionist. All those things were true, but she was so much more to those who knew her! Whatever she demanded of others, she demanded ten times that from herself. She put all of herself into everything she did, and expected the same from others. She was the force that drove all of us, and in return she gave us beauty beyond belief. We made allowances I suppose, for her temper and her arrogance. She was never cruel or malicious, simply so intense, so consumed by her music! She was the light of our lives!"

Anna sat quietly, trying to imagine Graham like that, wishing she had known her. When she thought of the tormented, anguished woman who would not even hear of the world she had once ruled, Annas heart ached. Where was that imperious virtuoso now?

"What happened to her Helen?"

"The accident changed everything," Helen said with a finality that warned Anna not to probe for details.

"Helen," Anna began tentatively, "I heard Graham playing todayit was so beautiful! Why doesnt she perform any longer?"

Helen shook her head. "She wont play for anyone anymore. Hasnt since the accident. She was in the hospital for months. When she was finally released, she came immediately to Yardley. Shes lived here since then. Her father was alive back then, of courseits been over ten years. He stayed on at the main house in Philadelphia, and I came here to be with Graham. He visited, but I knew it was hard for him to see her so changed. At first friends would call, and so many important people from the music world, but she wouldnt see them. For months she barely spoke, or left her room. After a while, she began to go outside, mostly at night. She wouldnt let me help her. Shes always been so stubborn, even as a little girl!" Helen smiled at some memory. "It broke my heart to see her stumble. Sometimes she fell, and it was all I could do not to run out to her. But, oh! Such pride-! I knew it would hurt her more if she knew I could see her like that."

It was physically painful for Anna to imagine what Graham had suffered, or the extent of her loss. Neither could she imagine that the stubborn independent woman she was coming to know would simply give up.

"But, Helen! She's still so strong. Whats happened to her?!"

"She didnt go near the piano for that whole first year, and I feared for her mind, I really did. I can never remember Graham without her music! When at last she began to play again, I thought everything would be all right. But the music was so sad! I dont care about that anymoreIm just happy that she plays at all."

"It doesnt make sense! She can manage quite well, and with a little help"

Helen looked alarmed. "Oh no, my dear. Its not because of her injuries. I only wish it were. Graham lost something much more than her sight in that accident. She hasnt composed a piece of music since she came home from the hospital. Its as if the music left her that night -after she had lost so much already!"

"But what--" Anna began, confused.

Helen stood suddenly, gathering her things. "Ive gone on too long, Im afraid. I must sound like a silly old woman to you."

"Oh, Helen. I know better. It must have been so hard for you all these years!"

Helen smiled. "To have Graham home, alive, was all I wanted. If only I could see her happy again! I wish you could have known her so accomplished, so full of life. She loved her music so, and the world loved her! When she toured, the concert halls would be full! People stood for hours to hear her play. Oh, she was something to seelike a young lion, so graceful and proud!"

"She still is, you know," Anna said softly. "I heard her play, I felt her musicit was one of the most powerful things I ever experienced."

Helen looked at Anna strangely. "You can see it, then?"

"Oh, yes!" Anna exclaimed. "She has such passionin her hands, in her voiceeven in those beautiful eyes!"

Helen touched Annas face tenderly, then turned quickly away. "I think it will be good for us that you have come."

When Anna found herself awake and restless at midnight, she returned to the library. She curled up in the large leather chair, books open in her lap, compelled to revisit Grahams past. She searched the newspaper and magazine images of the vigorous artist, struck by her vitality and fierce passion. The photos of Graham on stage, lost in the rhapsody of her music, were among the most arresting portraits Anna had ever seen. Anna was stirred as if by the memory of someone she had once known and now missed. There was a sense of loss that felt deeply personal. As Anna lay tossing later that night, searching for sleep, the strains of Grahams music echoed in her mind.


Chapter Six


Reluctantly, Anna conceded to Grahams wishes. When more than a week had passed with no further overture from Graham to address her personal correspondence, Anna wrote replies. Since she had no specific instructions, she simply stated that Ms.Yardley appreciated the inquiries but was not presently available. She could bring herself to neither leave the letters unanswered nor to close the door on Grahams previous life. It was too final and felt much too much like death. Grahams death. It was beyond tragic to accept that the Graham Yardley she had glimpsed in the yellowing pages of history was gone forever. Anna could not accept it, not when Anna heard her walk the halls late into the night, or awoke to the sight of her outlined against the dawn at the cliffs edge. Stubbornly Anna clung to the hope that Graham herself had abandoned, the hope that the music would someday return to Yardley.

Frustrated that she could not help Graham, she worked instead to restore her home. Summer was approaching, and Anna had taken the task to heart. She hired carpenters and painters to work both outside and in, tending to the multitude of small details that had been neglected for a decade. She finally relented and hired a landscaping crew she had seen advertised in the university paper. They would be helping her clear the wide expanse of nearly wild growth that covered the rear slopes and the bluff above the sea.

When Anna walked down one morning to the sea cliffs where Graham stood nearly every morning at dawn, she was terrified to find the path almost totally obscured with roots and vines. She couldnt imagine how Graham had avoided injury all this time. To make matters worse, the sea wall was crumbling into the surf a hundred feet below. There was precious little safety in that spot, especially for a woman who could not see. Anna knew it would be useless to ask Graham not to go there. Anna could envision the reaction that would produce! And, in truth, Anna didnt have the heart to bring it upwhatever compelled Graham to visit that desolate point of land morning after morning didnt matter. Anna couldnt ask her to give up one more thing in her life. She simply hired a contractor and had the stone abutment repaired.

Late one May morning when Graham entered her music room, she immediately sensed another's presence. She stood still just inside the door, trying to discern the unexpected visitor. Anna had made it clear to the various workers that Grahams music room was not to be violated.

"Anna?" she inquired with faint surprise.

"Yes," Anna answered uncertainly. She was standing with her back to the door and hadnt realized Graham was there until she spoke. She hadnt expected Graham at all. She was rarely about during the morning.

"What is it that youre doing?" Graham asked as she crossed the room. Her voice wasnt critical, merely curious.

"Im putting a vase of flowers on the mantle. I just picked them." she replied quietly. She was well aware that she had not been invited into Grahams study, but neither had Graham told her she was not welcome to go anywhere in the house she desired.

"To what purpose?" Graham asked darkly, "Did you think I might enjoy the color?" She didnt want reminders of what she could no longer see! Anna caught her breath as Graham stalked to the French doors, flinging them open to stand in the archway, her back to Anna.

"I thought you might enjoy the beauty of their scent. I only wish that you might enjoy the sight of them as well." Her voice quivered with both anger and uncertainty. She didnt want to hurt her, but she couldnt stand to see her deny all that remained to her. She stared at the rigid back, not realizing she was holding her breath, wondering if she had pushed this volatile, wounded woman too far. She waited for the hot flare of temper.

Graham drew a long steadying breath. "Forgive me," she said quietly. "That was unconscionably rude of me. Please accept my apology."

"I didnt mean to upset you," Anna replied. "You neednt apologize."

"I thought I could smell the roses on the wind last night," Graham said softly, her back still to Anna. The rigid stance relaxed, to be replaced by a weariness too often evident in her whip-slender frame.

Anna approached her cautiously, afraid Graham might retreat if startled. "Yes, theyre in bloom again now. Theyve been waiting so long."

"Have they?" Graham questioned, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the open terrace doors. "I would have thought they had simply perished by now."

"Their roots are deep, and strong," Anna said softly, wondering if they still spoke of the flowers. "The soil of Yardley is rich and fertile; it has nourished them all this time."

Graham stood very still, aware that Anna was close beside her. The air about them was filled with the perfume of new life.

"Nourishment alone is not always enough - living things need more than that. They would not have survived indefinitely without care," Graham said softly.

"No," Anna replied, swallowing the ache in her throat, "but they didnt have to." Impulsively, Anna grasped Grahams arm. "Walk with meIll show you."

Graham tensed at the first touch of Annas hand upon her arm. The sensation was so foreign it startled her. Then, with the grace born of her breeding, she tucked Annas hand in the bend of her elbow. "All right," she agreed, allowing Anna to lead the way.

As they strolled the meandering paths, Anna stopped frequently to describe the young flowers, drawing Grahams hand to the soft buds.

"Daffodils?" Graham asked as Anna brought a petal to her face.

Anna smiled. "Yes, - wait," she said, plucking another blossom. "And this?"

Graham cupped her fingers around Annas hand, bending her head over the flower nestled there. Softly, she inhaled. "Wisteria?" She looked up to Anna expectantly.

Anna stared into the questioning eyes, struck by there expressiveness. For an instant, she was certain that Graham could see her. She would give anything to make it so! Graham sensed the stirring of her emotionsAnnas hand trembled slightly in hers.

"Anna?"

Anna released the breath she hadnt realized she was holding.

"Youre very good. Right again!" she said, her voice thick with an emotion she couldnt name.

Graham slipped the blossom from Annas grasp and tucked it into the pocket of her shirt.

The simple gesture touched Anna. It pleased her unaccountably to bring the gardens to life for Graham. Each smile that passed Grahams lips, however fleeting, felt like a gift. Oddly, she was even enjoying their physical closeness. Even though Graham could maneuver the garden paths perfectly well, she made no move to remove the hand that Anna kept on her arm. Anna found herself curiously aware of the muscles rippling under her fingers as they walked. She forced herself to pay attention to the uneven terrain, trying to ignore the unusual fluttering in her stomach.

Graham stopped suddenly, a puzzled look on her face. She turned to her right and stretched out her hand.

"Where are the lilacs?"

Anna was startled that Graham should know. Grahams ability to orient herself in her environment continued to astound her. "Youre right, of course. Theyre here, but they were so badly overgrown that they havent flowered in years. I cut them back. In a year or two theyll flower again."

Graham leaned on her walking stick and sighed. So much was gone! "Im sorry. They were always so lovelythey were my favorites, I think, after the roses."