I sat down and one of the maids came in to light the candelabrum.

I said to her: “Have you been here long?”

“About two years, my lady.”

“The same as Mistress … Stirling.”

“Yes, soon after her. We were most of us new then.”

She looked at me apologetically and hurried out. All new when Mistress Stirling came. This was becoming a rather strange situation.

A maid, accompanied by Mistress Stirling, came in bringing a tray on which were cold venison and a piece of pie.

Mistress Stirling, whom I had begun to think of as Jessie, laid the tray on the table; I was very hungry but ever more curious. When the maid had gone Jessie sat opposite me and, leaning her arms on the table, stared at me while I ate.

“When did his lordship write to you?” she asked.

“Some weeks ago. It was to my mother that he wrote, as a matter of fact.”

“To your mother … asking for you to visit.” She gave rather a nervous giggle. “Did he say what for?”

“Oh well … we are of the same family. I suppose he felt it was a pity we did not meet more often.”

A man put his head round the door.

“You’m wanting me, Mistress Jessie.”

“Oh, Jethro,” she said. “This lady’s come a visiting his lordship. One of his relations, she says.”

“I am one of his closest living relations,” I said. “My name is Zipporah Ransome … Clavering, that was.”

“Why, bless me,” said the old man, “if it’s not Miss Zipporah. I remember you well when you used to come to Eversleigh. Christmas, wasn’t it? … and sometime there be summer holidays and winter ones too. I can remember you, miss, as a little ’un. Good little thing you was.”

I was more relieved. The situation was becoming more natural. I remembered him now. He was Jethro, who had been in charge of the horses—head groom, I suppose one would call him. He had always been a favorite of mine because I had loved horses.

“Why, Jethro,” I cried, standing up, and we clasped hands.

“Ah, ’tis good to see you here, Miss Zipporah. It must be years … And you a married lady now. Well, time do fly … and no mistake. And you’ve come to see his lordship?”

“Jethro,” said Jessie. “I think you should go and make sure those grooms are settled. Have you given them something to eat?”

“Well, there’s naught but bread and cheese and ale at this time of night. But they’m having some of that in the kitchen.”

“And you can find somewhere for them to sleep.”

Jethro nodded.

“I’ll see ’ee tomorrow, perhaps, Mistress Zipporah.”

He was looking at me earnestly and I, because of the strangeness of my reception, had the notion that he wanted to tell me something.

He went out.

“Gives himself airs because he’s been here so long,” said Jessie. “Some of them old codgers do. They fancy you can’t do without them. Well, his lordship for some reason thinks a powerful lot of Jethro.”

“We all did … I remember. So much is coming back to me now I’m here.”

“Well, get a good night’s rest, eh. I popped in to see his lordship but he’s sleeping like a baby. Once he wakes he’d never get to sleep again and then we’d have a fidgety old man the next day, I can promise you.”

“Is he … very much of an … invalid?”

“Lord bless you, no. Just feeble. Needs someone always at his elbow. That’s where I come in. Is that pie good? It should be eaten straight from the oven, you know.”

I said it was very good.

“I always like my victuals,” confided Jessie. “And when you’ve finished … I’ll have some hot water sent up and you can snuggle down, eh. You must be just about worn out.”

I admitted that I should be pleased to have a night’s rest.

“So you shall.” She was smiling at me benignly and somehow such benignity sat ill on her features, for there was a sharp glint in her eyes which I found rather disconcerting. I should be glad when morning came, for I thought then I should be able to throw some light on the meaning of this strange reception.

Jessie herself took me up to my room. Memories of the house came back to me. I could vaguely remember the days of its grandeur. I had a feeling that it was rather different now.

Jessie threw open a door.

“Oh, here we are. They’ve made up the bed.” She went to it and drew back the coverlet. “The warming pan’s in. I have to watch them girls. My goodness me, they’d lead us a nice dance if I didn’t. I’ve got an eye like a hawk. His lordship says to me: ‘I don’t know what we’d do without you, Jess.’ I will say he’s not a man to take things for granted. He knows what I do and he wants me to know he does … if you get my meaning.” She was growing more and more familiar and was developing a habit of putting out a hand and giving me a gentle little push as she spoke. I found it repulsive and wanted to tell her to get out, while on the other hand I wanted to keep her there for more unusual revelations which I felt sure were to come.

The room was well furnished with a four-poster bed, court cupboard, a dressing table on which was a looking glass.

“There’s the hot water. No need to send it down when you’ve finished. They’ll take it in the morning.”

“Thank you.”

“Right you are. See you in the morning. Sleep well.”

“Thank you.”

She gave me another of those gentle little pushes and was gone.

Alone in the room, the strangeness of everything occupied my thoughts. I went to the door at once and the fact that there was no key in the lock dismayed me. I wondered how I should sleep in this strange atmosphere. I had come to the conclusion that I must be prepared for anything, however unusual.

Why did Lord Eversleigh employ such a woman as Jessie? Moreover, she seemed to have such power. The manner in which she behaved suggested that she might be the mistress of the house. And surely he should have given instructions that I was to arrive.

I was physically exhausted but my mind was so ill at ease that I knew I should find it difficult to sleep.

I went to the window. I could see nothing. It was so dark outside. I longed for sunrise. Whatever was happening would surely seem more reasonable then.

I saw that my bags had been brought up, and I hoped the grooms were feeling more comfortable than I was.

I unpacked one of the bags and took out my night things. What I must do was get to bed and to sleep, for there was nothing more I could do till morning.

I washed and undressed. I removed the warming pan and got into bed. I sunk into the luxury of feathers and felt almost drowsy in spite of everything, but just as I was dozing I would wake startled and sit up in bed listening. I realized that I was going to have a bad night. Well, I was prepared for that.

It must have been about an hour later when I heard a light footstep outside my room. I turned my eyes toward the door. I was sure someone was standing outside. It was a little lighter in the room now. The clouds had cleared and my eyes had accustomed to the darkness and as they turned to the door I saw the handle slowly turning.

“Come in,” I called.

The handle no longer moved. There was silence. I sat up in bed, my heart beating so fast that I could hear it. Then I thought I detected the sound of retreating footsteps. I opened the door and looked out but I could see nothing.

The incident was certainly not conducive to sleep. I lay there listening.

It must have been half an hour or so later when I heard footsteps again. This time I slipped out of bed and stood behind the door, waiting.

Yes, they had paused at my door and the handle was slowly turned. This time I did not speak. I stood pressed against the wall, waiting, while the door opened slowly.

I had been expecting the stately figure of Jessie, but to my amazement it was a young girl who could not have been more than twelve years old who entered. She went straight to the bed and gasped to see it empty. By this time I had shut the door and, leaning against it, said: “Hello. What do you want?”

She spun round and stared at me, her eyes wide and bright. I think if I had not been barring her way she would have rushed out of the room.

My fears had ebbed away. I saw at once that instead of a rather sinister presence all I had to deal with was a curious little girl.

“Well,” I said, “why have you come to pay me a visit at such an hour? It’s very late, you know.”

Still she said nothing. She stared down at her bare feet showing beneath her nightgown.

I went toward her. She looked at me in panic and I could see that she was preparing to make a dash for the door.

“Now you are here,” I said, “and I must say in a rather unceremonious fashion, I think you owe me an explanation.”

“I … I only wanted to see you.”

“Who are you?”

“Evalina.”

“And what are you doing here in this house … who are your parents?”

“We live here. This is my mama’s house really. …”

I knew then. There was a faint resemblance. I said: “You must be Jessie’s daughter?”

She nodded.

“I see, and you live here in your mother’s house?”

“It’s Lordy’s really. …”

“Whose?”

“The old man. Lord Eversleigh’s his real name. But we always call him Lordy.”

“We … ?”

“It’s my mama’s name for him.”

“I see. And he is a very great friend of yours, I suppose, since he lets you live in his house and call him Lordy.”

“He couldn’t do without us.”

“Does he say so?”

She nodded.

“Why did you creep into my bedroom?”

“I saw you when you came.”

“I saw you. You were at the top of the staircase.”

“You didn’t see me.”

“I did. You should be a little more careful. You do seem to get caught. Look at you now.”

“Are you going to tell on me?”

“I don’t know. I’ll see when I have finished the interrogation.”

“The what?” She looked frightened, as though she feared some terrible ordeal.

“I’m going to ask you some questions. A lot will depend on how you answer.”

“My mother would be angry. She gets angry sometimes. She’d say I was careless not to make sure you were asleep before I came in.”

“So it would have been quite acceptable if you had not been caught.”

She looked at me in wonderment. “Of course.”

“A strange philosophy,” I said.

“You do talk funny. Why have you come here? Is it to make trouble with Lordy?”

“I came because Lordy—as you call him—invited me.”

“My mother is cross with him about that. She can’t understand how he could ask you without telling her. She’s asking a lot of questions … who took the message, and all that. I reckon there’ll be a terrible row.”

“Why shouldn’t Lord Eversleigh invite whom he wishes to his house?”

“Well, he should ask mama first, shouldn’t he?”

“Is your mother the housekeeper here?”

“Well, it’s all different, you know.”

“In what way?”

She giggled. Her face, which had seemed innocent at one stage, had become rather sly. She might be young but she was knowledgeable in some matters and she managed to convey a meaning to the relationship between her mother and Lord Eversleigh which had come to me as a possibility and now seemed a certainty.

This child was not the innocent I had been imagining. She was a girl who listened, who spied and whose curiosity was so intense that it brought her from her bed at night to take a look at the new arrival who had brought such consternation to her mother.

I did not pursue that line of conversation. The child’s salacious giggle had in a way answered it and certainly I did not want to discuss this dubious relationship with her.

She said: “I’ll go now. Good night. You ought to have been asleep.”

“It would certainly have suited your convenience. Tell me, did you intend to examine my baggage?”

“I only wanted to have a quick look.”

“Now you’re here you will go at my pleasure. You will now answer a few questions for me. How long have you been here?”

“It’s about two years.”

“You are happy here?”

“It’s lovely. Different from …”

“From where you were before. Where were you?”

“In London.”

“You and your mother. Where is your father?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Never had one … proper. … There were uncles. … They never stayed long, though.”

I felt disgusted. The child was building up a picture of what I had suspected.