One day Stephen told me how in his youth he had longed to travel.

“I never had the time,” he said.

“The Minster took it all. So I travelled … vicariously. I used to read at night when I could not sleep. Books were my magic carpet. India … Arabia … I was there. I have some fine books. A friend of mine has written one or two. You should read them. You know something of India.”

“Well, I spent my early years there … up to the time that I was ten.

When I went back, it seemed different. “

“That’s natural. Have you heard of the great Richard Burton?”

“Is he the explorer?”

“That’s so. He has written a number of books about his adventures in India and Arabia. They are fascinating. He has lived among the people as one of them. I suppose that is the only way to get to know them.

Imagine me, in my armchair, sharing such adventures. He writes so vividly one can imagine one is there. He disguised himself in various ways and wandered among the tribes. His studies are brilliant. You must read them. Go to the shelves and you’ll see his books. “

I went across the room.

“I keep my favourites up here,” he went on, ‘now that I am incapacitated. “

I saw several of Richard Burton’s books but there was one which caught my attention. It was the name on the spine. Dr. Damien. I had heard that name before.

“Dr. Damien,” I said, picking up the book.

“Oh yes. An old friend of mine. He is a great admirer and friend of Burton. They’ve travelled together. Burton was a diplomat, Damien a doctor. His great interest is in methods of healing. He’s an expert on drugs. They’ve had some adventures, those two. Their books make fascinating reading. Of course, one has to forget certain standards which are the accepted ones here in Victorian England. Burton lived as an Arab. He actually became a Moslem. He is dark . both men are . and that has helped them disguise themselves. It wouldn’t have been so easy for golden-haired, blue-eyed fellows to go wandering through India or the deserts of Arabia! Burton started out as a soldier. That was one way of getting to India. There he took a native wife . a bubu they called them, as compared with a bibi, a white wife. But of course, not every wife found it convenient to go out with her husband, so a bubu was permissible. Burton went entirely native. Well, you read his book. “

“And what of this … Damien?”

“Read him too. He has travelled widely… disguised himself as a pedlar … his motive being that he could wander about unquestioned . or as a street vendor so that he could sit in market-places and listen. His great aim was to discover new drugs, new folk remedies, some of those which have never been heard of in this country … so that he can use them in his treatment of the sick.”

“That seems a very worthwhile project.”

“He is a man of purpose. I see very little of him now. He is hardly ever in this country. But when we meet we are the same old friends.”

“I seem to have heard the name somewhere. I can’t remember where. I’ll take the Burton and your Dr. Damien.”

“Do. And when you’ve read them we’ll talk about them. I’ll look forward to that.”

I went off with the books and was completely fascinated by them. Both these men appeared to stop at nothing. They lived like natives; they practised customs of nomadic tribes and in some instances they were rather indelicately explicit. I read of the effects of certain drugs, of the sensual desires they aroused; and because of my experiences on that night with Aubrey, I could imagine much more than I should have done before.

I had grown up. I had been shaken out of a certain complacency. I had discovered there are things in the world of which I had been totally ignorant. I could read between the lines in these books. These men had had extraordinary adventures.

I was never able to discuss those books with Stephen, for soon after the day he had given them to me he took a turn for the worse.

It was as the doctor had said. There was no possibility of his recovery; and the best we could hope for was that his end, when it was in sight, should be swift and painless.

He had been more than usually unwell one day and during the night he died.

Amelia was very sad, but resigned. I think the prospect of having a child kept up her spirits and gave her courage to face the future.

There were several people staying in the house among them Jack St. Clare and his sister Dorothy. They were Stephen’s first cousins, Amelia told me. Jack was a widower of some years standing and his sister Dorothy a spinster who kept house for him. They were clearly very fond of Amelia and she of them. I found them very pleasant and liked them immediately, but I fancied they were faintly critical of Aubrey.

Funerals are depressing occasions. The tolling of the bells is so dismal. The gathering of the mourners in the great hall afterwards seemed to go on far too long, and I was glad when they departed.

I stood at the door with Amelia bidding them goodbye. It was the first time many of them had met me and I am sure Amelia’s obvious affection for me made them warm towards me.

Jack St. Clare and his sister embraced Amelia tenderly and said that later she must go and stay with them for a while. She said she would.

Afterwards Aubrey discussed them with me.

“Both Jack and Dorothy spent a good deal of their childhood at the Minster,” he said.

“They have a proprietary feeling towards it and a little chagrin, I think. Jack would have liked it.

And the fact that he had a chance of getting it, rankles. “

“I thought he seemed very fond of Amelia.”

“He always was. Well, she’s a widow now … and he’s a widower.”

“It is rather soon for matchmaking.”

“Of course, you are always so proper.”

I was startled. It was like an echo from that night.

But he was smiling at me tenderly and he put an arm round me and kissed my forehead.

I had to forget. It had been a momentary aberration due to a blow on the head.

It was not long after that when I discovered that I was pregnant. It must have happened during our honeymoon in Venice. I was overjoyed.

More than anything, this could wipe from my memory the horror of what had happened on that night. I could become so absorbed that I would have no time for brooding on frightening possibilities. A child of my own! I was thrilled and delighted.

Shortly afterwards my expectations were confirmed.

Aubrey was delighted. But almost immediately he said:

“Ours won’t be the heir to the Minster because of this child Amelia’s carrying.”

“Two babies in the household. Won’t that be wonderful!”

Amelia agreed with me and we became closer than ever. We spent long hours together talking constantly of babies. She was taking special care of herself, determined that this pregnancy was not going to end in miscarriage. The doctor told her she must take a little exercise but not too much. She must rest every afternoon.

She used to lie on her bed and I would sit with her and we would talk about the time when our babies came.

The nurseries were being refurbished. We discussed layettes and trimmings for the cots two of them now.

This was just what Amelia needed to carry her over the loss of Stephen.

I was so happy for her and for myself. She liked to be with me more than anyone, for naturally I could understand and share her exhilaration.

I shall never forget that day.

In the morning we had all breakfasted together Aubrey, Amelia and myself. I was beginning to feel a little queasy in the mornings.

Amelia was very sympathetic. She said she had passed out of that stage.

She said the doctor wished to see her and she was going in to his surgery that morning. She was going to walk in and tell them at the stables to send the carriage to bring her back.

“I’ll take you in,” said Aubrey.

“Thank you,” said Amelia, ‘but I want the exercise. I’ll be just right for the walk in as long as they bring me back. Are you feeling all right, Susanna? “

“I feel a little sick.”

“Go and lie down. It will pass.”

Aubrey came up to our room with me. He looked anxious.

“Don’t fuss,” I said.

“It’s normal.”

I lay down and felt better immediately. I read one of the fascinating books which Stephen had given me and the morning slipped away. It must have been about midday when they brought Amelia home.

I heard the commotion and going to the window saw the doctor’s carriage and Amelia being brought into the house on a stretcher.

I dashed downstairs.

“There’s been an accident,” said the doctor.

“Let’s get Mrs. St. Clare into the house at once.”

“An accident …”

“Your husband’s all right. He’s bringing his carriage back, so you see there is not much damage there.”

I was bewildered. I wanted to ask what had happened but the first thing to do was attend to Amelia.

She half smiled at me and I was thankful that she was alive.

I turned fearfully to the doctor.

“She’s not badly hurt,” he said.

Amelia’s expression was full of fear and I knew why. She was thinking of her baby.

“She should rest now,” said the doctor.

“I’ll wait and see your husband. He insisted on bringing the carriage back himself.”

“I don’t understand …” I began.

Aubrey was driving his mulberry-coloured carriage up the drive. I ran out to him.

“I’m all right,” he said.

“Nothing to worry about. We had a spill, that’s all. The greys suddenly took fright and ran amok. I could handle them, though.”

“Amelia …”

“She’ll be all right. It was nothing, really …”

“But… in her condition.”

“This sort of thing’s happened before. It could have been a nasty accident, but I prevented that. They’ll have to do some work on the carriage. We went right over. The side is badly scraped and the paint is scratched.”

“The carriage is not important,” I said sharply.

“It is Amelia.” Again I was reminded of that night. It was the expression in his eyes.

“I thought one of the grooms was going to take the trap to meet her after she had seen the doctor.”

“Yes, that was arranged. Then I said I would take the carriage and pick her up.”

“Oh!” I said blankly.

“Don’t look so worried. It’s all right. It was nothing, really. Just a little spill. We soon got the carriage up again, and I calmed down the greys.”

He was wrong.

Amelia lost her baby.

I sat beside her. There was little I could do to console her. She just lay there not caring whether she lived or died.

She said: “I expected one of them to bring the pony trap. I should never have got into that carriage.”

“Aubrey is a very skilful driver. I think he prevented a worse accident.”

“There could not have been a worse accident. I have lost my baby.”

“Oh Amelia … my dear Amelia … how can I comfort you?”

“There is no comfort.”

“Except that I feel for you, that I understand completely. No one could understand more.”

“I know. But nothing can help. It is the end of all my hopes. I have lost Stephen. I have lost my baby. There is nothing left for me.”

I just sat beside her in silence.

When I was alone with Aubrey he could not conceal his feelings.

“Think what this means to us.”

I looked at him in horror.

“How can you talk like that? Do you realize what Amelia is suffering?”

“She’ll get over it.”

“Aubrey, she has lost her child. The child meant everything to her.”

“She always lost children. It was to be expected.”

“But for that accident …”

“There would have been something else. The child is dead. It is no longer a menace.”

“A menace?”

“Dearest, don’t be such an innocent. That child was standing between my and your child’s inheritance. Well, that obstacle is removed.”

“I don’t want to think about it like that.”

“There are times when you can be very unworldly, darling.”

“I expect there are, and if this is one of them, then I am glad. I wish with all my heart that this had not happened.”

He took me by the shoulders and shook me, half playfully, but I saw something else in his eyes.

“Of course I’m sorry for Amelia. It’s a blow for the poor girl. But that doesn’t alter the fact that it has made it easier for us. You must see that. Now I can make plans. I don’t think you realize what this place entails. I can no longer be displaced by someone who has not yet been born. This is what was intended, what I came home for. “