I, who have lived thus all these years-which is scarcely living at all suddenly find myself in the midst of intrigue. You see, Yvette, there are several people who wish me out of the way . not mildly but desperately. First there is my dear husband. How he would love to be rid of me! Then he could go to his schoolmistress and offer her honourable marriage. I believe that is what he wants to do.

And what of Gabrielle . all those years patiently waiting for me to die . and yet at the same time wanting me to live. If I died he might marry again, but would it be Gabrielle? Gabrielle has proved that she can bear a son. There is that six foot of Fontaine Delibes manhood to prove it. Etienne! And who could doubt that the Comte is his father? Poor Gabrielle, what a quandary for her! The Comte could marry her if he were free, but would he? I know she has been a faithful mistress to him for many years, but it is a tradition that when a man is free to marry it is not his ageing mistress whom he chooses as his wife. He turns and finds a young girl. So there sits our patient Gabrielle. What does she feel to see this young schoolmistress enslaving her lover? And Etienne, what of him?

Then there is Leon. I discovered something about Leon. It was on the night of the ball. I know so much more than people think. I have always bad food, clothes and even money sent to Leon’s family. I felt a certain responsibility, as it was because I did not produce a son that my husband drove so wildly that there was this terrible accident.

I send Edouard, one of my grooms, to Leon’s family once a month. He brings me back news of them. He talks to them and comes back and tells me little things about them. Then on the night of the ball . this happened. And Leon is aware of it. I am too tired to tell you about it now. It’s a long story . so next time. But Leon is afraid of what I might do.

There is so much drama in this household, Yvette. I often wonder where it will all end. But it does make life exciting and it could easily be so dull for me. I can’t wait to know what will happen next.

I have always been interested in people. It’s odd that I should wish to be merely a looker-on. But it’s true. I don’t want to go down there in the arena. Marriage and all it entails is particularly distasteful to me. I suppose there are people like that.

They turn up occasionally.

There are moments of enjoyment in my life . writing to you . discovering what people are doing. And now suddenly it has all become tremendously exciting.

I can’t wait for what will happen next. I shall write to you tomorrow more fully. I’m just a little tired now and I like to be fresh for my letters.

Goodnight.

Ursule.

The letter fell from my hand. I looked at the date. It was written the night before she died.

I now knew why Yvette had decided to show me the letters. She was telling me that Ursule could not possibly have taken her own life.

There was little sleep for me that night. I lay awake brooding on what I had read.

I took the first opportunity of returning the letters to Yvette.

“You’ve read them?” she asked. I nodded.

“Did you realize when the last one was written?”

Yes, the night before she died. She must have written it just before she took the fatal dose. “

“Do you think that is the letter of a woman contemplating suicide?”

“No. “

There is only one solution. He killed her. ” I was silent and she went on: ” He wanted her out of the way. She knew that. She actually said it in the letter. “

I don’t believe it. At the autopsy. “

“My dear Minelle, you do not know the Comte’s power. It has always been so. The doctors would say what he commanded them to.”

“Surely they would have more integrity.”

“You do not know how things can happen. Someone offends a person in a high place. A little later he receives a lettre de cachet. Nothing more is heard of him.”

I was silent and she came to me and laid a hand on my arm.

“If you are wise,” she said, ‘you will return to England with’ out delay and forget you ever met baa. “

“Where should I go?”

“Where would you go now if there were trouble?”

I suppose I should stay with Margot . here . with you all. “

“And if the Comte comes for you, what then?” I was silent and she went on: “He might offer to marry you. Would you marry a murderer?”

There is no proof. “

“Didn’t you find that in the letter? You read what she had written before she died. The doctors had been. He had sent for them that they might diagnose some imaginary disease.”

“It was Nou-Nou who sent for them.”

“Nou-Nou constantly wanted to send for them. It would only have been a matter of waiting until she asked for them again,” “If he wanted to be rid of her, why did he not do so long ago?”

“Because you were not there.”

“But he always wanted to remarry. He wanted a son.”

“There was no particular woman before. He was ready to leave it to fate and if necessary settle for Etienne.”

“You are conjecturing too much.”

“Oh, isn’t it clear to you, or are you wilfully blind?”

I was wilfully blind, I knew. The evidence was clear enough in the letters. She had declared her wish to live only the night before she died.

I had never been so wretched in the whole of my life.

One hot day followed another. When I awoke each morning my first thoughts were of the Comte. I could not shut from my mind the picture of his going into her bedroom and opening Nou-Nou’s cupboard. All the remedies were neatly labelled in Nou-Nou’s handwriting. He would tip the fluid into the glass . the double . or treble dose . that meant death.

What could I do? I asked him for the truth, he would not give it. He was adept at lying. Or would he tell me the truth and try to make me believe that whatever he had done would make no difference to us? Was he right? Could I stand the test? Wasn’t it cowardly to run away from it?

But that was what I should do. In the first heat of my passion for him I might forget but later how should I feel, living with a murderer?

In my dreams my mother returned to me. She pleaded with me. Then in the dream she changed to Yvette and said:

“Go home. Don’t delay any more.”

A strange thing happened a week after I had read those letters. I could almost believe that my mother had arranged it with divine assistance.

I was in my room turning over the question of what I should do when Margot rushed in.

“A visitor,” she cried.

“Come down at once. You will be surprised.”

I immediately thought of the Comte.

“Who?” I demanded.

“I’m not telling. Come and see. It’s a surprise.”

I doubted whether the arrival of the Comte would be such a great surprise and surely he would not have aroused this reaction in Margot.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

“You look all right,” Margot assured me.

“And there is no time to change or anything like that. Do come now.”

So I went with her and to my utter astonishment discovered that the visitor was Joel Derringham. I looked at him in amazement and he took my hands in his, “You look surprised to see me,” he said.

I am completely taken aback. “

“I had come to the south of France from Italy and I heard from home that you had gone to France. I thought it would be a good idea to call on the Comte and his family. I went to the chateau and was informed of Marguerite’s marriage and that you had accompanied her to Grasseville.

So here I am. “

“You will stay a while, I trust,” said Margot, very much the chat elaine

“It is delightful of you to offer hospitality and I should be very pleased to take advantage of it.”

“Minelle,” said Margot imperiously, ‘you will entertain our guest while I make arrangements for his room to be prepared. What of refreshment, Joel? We dine at six. “

“I have had something at an inn and shall be quite happy until six, thank you.”

We sat down and when we were alone he looked at me steadily.

“It is good to see you again,” he said.

“Much has happened since our last meeting,” I replied rather tritely.

“A great deal. I was sorry to leave so abruptly.”

“Oh, I understand.”

“How did you come to leave England?”

My mother died, as you know, and the school did not prosper without her. It seemed a solution to come with Margot when the opportunity was offered to me. “

He nodded.

“You have changed little, Minella. Your mother’s death was a great blow to you, I know.”

The greatest I ever suffered. “

He winced slightly and I realized I had told him that his abrupt departure had not affected me so much.

“She was a wonderful woman,” he said.

“My father was always talking of her.”

But not so wonderful, I thought, that her daughter could be considered worthy of his son. Not that I would have taken him, I assured myself haughtily. But how pleased my dear mother would have been had that union been possible.

“Have you enjoyed your tour?” I asked.

“It is not yet over.”

“I thought you were on your way home.”

“By no means. It was simply that I heard you were in France and I very much wanted to see you. This country is a boiling cauldron of discontent.”

“I know. One can’t live here without being aware of it.”

“It is not the safest place in the world for a young Englishwoman.”

“That’s true enough.”

“You should not stay here. I cannot understand why the Comte has not arranged for your return to England.”

I said nothing.

Margot returned.

“I will show you your room. I am sure you will wish to wash and perhaps change. You have, brought a manservant with you, I see. He is being looked after. I am so pleased you have come. I am sure Minelle is too.”

She looked at me a little mischievously and then she took him to his room.

I went to my own. I was really quite shaken by my enounter with him.

It brought back memories of home. I could see my mother clearly, her eyes dancing with excitement as she showed me the handsome riding kit spread out on the bed.

It was not long before Margot appeared. She sat in her favourite chair facing the mirror so that she could admire her reflection as she talked.

“He is more handsome than ever,” she cried.

“Did you not think so?”

“He was always considered to be good-looking.”

He is a very pleasant young man. I have a special interest in him because at one time they had decided that I might marry him. “

“You are glad you didn’t?”

“I wonder what he would have said about Chariot? I don’t think he would have been quite as lenient as Robert, do you?”

I have no idea. “

“Oh, haughty! The fact was, if I remember rightly, that he was quite interested in you. Wasn’t that the reason why he was sent off in a hurry?”

“That’s all in the past.”

“But the past is revived, Minelle. He has revived it by putting in an appearance. I like him. I am sure Robert will be jealous when he hears I was once meant for him. But then I shall tell him where Joel’s true fancy lies. I believe he has come here just to see you.”

“Nonsense.”

“Very unconvincingly said. I thought you always prided yourself on your adherence to the truth and logic. Of course he has come to see you.” She was serious suddenly.

“Oh, Minelle, it’s the right thing it is really. If he wants to take you home to England you should go.”

Do you want to be rid of me? “

“What a cruel thing to say. You know I’d hate you to go. I’m not thinking of myself.”

“A novel experience for you.”

“Stop this silly bantering. It’s serious. Things are bad here. There’s going to be an explosion at any minute. What do you think is happening? What of my father? I knew how he feels about you … and you about him. You’re a fool, Minelle. You don’t know him. I told you from the first he’s got the devil in him. He’s no good to any woman.” “Margot, stop it.”

“I won’t. I’m worried about you. We have been through the Chariot affair together. I’m fond of you. I want you to be happy … like I am. I want you to know what it means to marry a good man. If you marry Joel Derringham you’ll have a good life. You know you will.”