My grandparents were smiling contentedly.

“The Pencarrons wanted to come over but thought it might be too many for the first day. They’ll come tomorrow.”

“That’s lovely,” I said. “Oh, it is wonderful to be back.”

“You’ve had an exciting time in London and Manorleigh, I daresay,” said my grandmother.

“It’s still exciting to be here.”

“We had a treasure hunt at Christmas,” Belinda announced.

“That must have been fun. We could do something like that at Cador.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t be the same. Mr. Gerson did this one. He wrote poetry and you had to find it. I won, didn’t I, Lucie?”

“You just beat me by four seconds,” said Lucie.

“It must have been very exciting,” said my grandmother.

“It was the best treasure hunt in the world,” said Belinda nostalgically.

And then we were at Cador. It was like coming home. I was happy. I should see Pedrek often.

He had told me he returned to his family at week-ends but had contrived to have a few days off because of my arrival.

I think I was happier than I had ever been since the death of my mother.

I went to my room and sat at the window looking out at the sea. Lucie and Belinda had already gone to the stables to assure themselves that Petal and Snowdrop were really there.

My grandmother came to my room.

“Do you want any help with unpacking?” she asked.

“None at all,” I assured her.

She came over to the window and I stood up and we were in each other’s arms.

“It seems such ages, Rebecca,” she said.

“Yes. I was longing to come.”

“And now … you and Pedrek. It will be wonderful.”

“Yes … I know.”

“The Pencarrons are so pleased. You know how they are.”

“Yes, they are a pair of old darlings.”

“We’ve always been such friends … more like a family.”

“We always thought of ourselves like that.”

“Now it will be a reality. Pedrek was saying that if he worked hard and passes the exams, by the end of the course he’ll be fully fledged. Old Jos Pencarron said he never had any degrees or diplomas and he’s managed the mine all these years. But it seems nowadays that bits of paper count. When you marry you’ll be near us … that’s what gives your grandfather and me such pleasure.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” said my grandmother.

The door opened and a girl entered the room. She could not have been more than sixteen years old. She had very dark hair—almost black, lovely dark eyes and an olive skin. I should have thought her foreign looking if we had not quite a number of her type in Cornwall. There was a Spanish touch about her. It was said that people of her coloring and type of feature were the result of title visit of Spaniards to the Cornish shores when the Armada had been scattered along the coast and many a shipwrecked sailor had managed to reach land, had settled there, and married the local girls so introducing Spanish blood into Celtic Cornwall. This girl was voluptuous and very attractive.

She stood there expectantly, her lively eyes surveying my baggage.

“This is Madge,” said my grandmother. “She’s been with us a month now and works in the kitchen.”

“I was sent, Ma’am, to see if I could help Miss Rebecca with her unpacking.”

“Thank you,” I said with a little laugh, “but I can manage myself. I don’t really need any help.”

Still she hesitated, seeming reluctant to go.

“That’s all right then, Madge,” said my grandmother. “Just go and tell them Miss Rebecca can manage by herself.”

She bobbed a little curtsy and, looking disappointed, went out.

“What a striking looking girl,” I said to my grandmother.

“Yes, she’s very willing, I believe. I think she is very grateful to be here.”

“You say she has only been here a month or so.”

“Yes. She comes from Land’s End way. Mrs. Fellows heard of her and said she could do with a girl in the kitchen. She’s a bit shorthanded since Ada left to get married. So she came here.”

“Where had she been before? She seems quite young.”

“She’s from a family of eight … the eldest, I think. The father is one of those fanatical Bible thumpers. All hell fire and the wrath of the Lord type.”

“Oh, there are a lot of those in Cornwall.”

“They interpret the Bible their way and being by nature sadistic they want vengeance on all sinners which means, of course, people who don’t agree with them. If their sort had their way we should have stakes set up on Bodmin Moor and people being burned to death as they were in the days of Bloody Mary.”

“What happened to the girl then?”

“He threw her out.”

“What had she done?”

“Exchanged pleasantries with one of the cowmen. She must have been heard laughing on a Sunday. Then she was caught, talking with him, we heard, but it might have been something more. In any case she was turned out. Poor child. A sister of Mrs. Fellows took her in and then asked Mrs. Fellows if she could find a place for the girl. Hence she is here.”

“What a lot of trouble these people cause. By the way, this reminds me of Mrs. Polhenny. How is she?”

“Still fighting the good fight with all her might. You’ll see her on that bicycle of hers. It shakes her up quite a bit but it helps her to get round and, as she tells me every time I see her, she’s doing the Lord’s work.”

“Well, I’m glad this girl Madge found somewhere to go.”

“You’ll see her around. She’s the sort of girl who makes herself seen and heard. Well, we’ll talk later on. Just now I think I ought to go down and see what’s happening. We’re going to eat soon and then you can have an early night.”

When she had left me I unpacked, washed and changed my travelling clothes. I went downstairs where the children, freshly washed and combed, were already assembled with the rest of the family for the meal.

Pedrek was at my side. We talked eagerly. He told me how he was progressing at the college and how fortunate it was that it was so near. Being at St. Austell enabled him to get to Pencarron for week-ends, and we should be seeing each other frequently while I was at Cador.

It was a very happy evening and I reminded myself it was a prelude. It was wonderful to be at Cador.

I had not been in my room for more than five minutes when there was a knock on the door and my grandmother came in. This was the usual ritual. Whenever we met after a long absence she would come to my room on the first night and we would have what she called a “Catching-up chat.”

“Well,” I said as she sat in one of the armchairs. “What is the news?”

“I’ll tell you the worst first,” she said. “There’s been an accident at Pencarron Mine. It upset Josiah very much. He’s always had such a record for safety, which is due to meticulous and continual checks. So … although it wasn’t so bad as it might have been, it has upset him.”

“That’s terrible. Pedrek did not mention it.”

“We agreed not to … on your first night, and there wasn’t an opportunity really. It happened six weeks ago. Something caved in. It was possible to get most of the men out, but one was badly hurt, Jack Kellaway. It was … tragic.”

“How dreadful! Was he married?”

“Yes, with one child. A girl of eight or nine. Mary … Mary Kellaway … the poor wife, was distracted. Josiah was in a terrible state. I remember the day the news came through. It was the night shift. It was what happened afterwards which was really so dreadful. Jack Kellaway was so badly hurt that he would never work again. He could just crawl about the cottage. There was no hope for him really. He had always been a good husband and father and it was terrible for him. He could not bear to be a burden. One day when he was in the house alone he set fire to the place and cut his throat. He wanted it to seem as if he had been burned to death. It was something to do with insurance and he thought his wife and child would be better off without him. Some farm laborers happened to be passing and saw the fire and poor Jack’s body was found. It was very sad. The cottage was uninhabitable. His plan had gone wrong.”

“What a terrible story!”

“Josiah is going to see that Mary Kellaway and the girl are all right. The child is Mary too. He’s going to build a cottage for them. In the meantime we had to find somewhere for them to live. There wasn’t anything available except Jenny Stubbs’ old cottage near the pool.”

“So she is there?”

My grandmother nodded.

It was the cottage where Lucie had been born and spent her first years. Once I had been held captive there. I had always felt there was something mysterious about it. It was hardly the place to revive the poor widow’s spirits. I said so to my grandmother.

“I think she was glad to be quiet with a roof over her head and it was the only place. She seems to have settled in there. Oh, I know, it’s rather eerie. It’s that pool really … nothing to do with the cottage. It’s quite ordinary … just like all the others around here. It’s all that talk about the monastery being at the bottom of the water.”

“A lot of people still believe that.”

“Well, the Cornish are notoriously superstitious.”

“My mother always had a strong feeling about the pool.”

“I know.”

We were silent, thinking of her, then I said: “Are they still talking about the bells at the bottom of the pool which are supposed to ring to herald disaster?”

“Of course. They always did. The point is that people remember they heard them after the event.”

“What else has been happening?”

“One of the boats was lost in a gale. The gales were worse than usual this year.”

“A string of disasters.”

“Well, there are always the gales. Mrs. Jones had twins and Flora Grey is expecting a baby.”

“Good work for Mrs. Polhenny. How is she?”

“Doing her duty. Now tell me about yourself. The season went well, didn’t it? And you emerged engaged to be married.”

“That is what all girls are expected to do. But ours is a secret so I don’t get the glory.”

My grandmother laughed. “It is … wonderful. Our dearest hopes realized.”

“I did not know you were so dedicated to the idea.”

“We didn’t feel we could interfere. A marriage should be arranged between the two chief parties concerned.”

“But it is nice to find approval all round.”

“You haven’t told your stepfather?”

“Why should I?”

“He’s your guardian, I suppose. He’ll have to know.”

“You don’t think he’ll raise objections.”

She was silent and I flushed with indignation. Then I was laughing. “He won’t care,” I said. “He’s not interested. All he thinks about is getting on with his political career.”

“He did give you that expensive season.”

“He probably expected me to marry some great nobleman … someone who would bring kudos to him. ‘Rebecca Mandeville, stepdaughter of rising politician Benedict Lansdon, is to marry the Duke of …”

“Uncle Peter was like that. He always wanted such things to be noticed. Well, Benedict is his grandson. He might have the same thing in mind.”

I faced my grandmother. “If ever he tried to stop us …”

She smiled at me. “Don’t worry. We would talk him round.”

I stamped my foot in sudden rage. “It’s not his affair.”

“He might think differently.”

“I would not have it, Granny.”

“Well, don’t let’s imagine something which has not happened yet.”

“I think we were right in not telling people. We should wait until Pedrek and I are married.”

She did not answer. I knew it was something she would discuss with my grandfather later.

She changed the subject and said: “The children look well.”

“Leah turned out to be good for them.”

“She does a lot of sewing and they have beautifully embroidered dresses. She is always stitching. I think she is happy. But one can never be sure with Leah.”

“She must enjoy coming back here … after all it was her home.”

“I think she had a bad time before she escaped.”

“There was a change in her after she went up to High Tor. It must have been strange to her to find she was more or less working for the same people. Who would have thought Benedict would have married Celeste Bourdon?”

“It was rather surprising. I think it was their connections with Cornwall which made them interested in each other in the first place.”

“I’m glad he married again. We all know how it was between him and Angelet. They were made for each other. I think he suffered terribly. I like to think of him … settling down.”