"How very commendable," said Susannah.

Cougabel lifted her shoulders and giggled.

"Let me take you to your room," I said. I thought my parents would want to be alone for a while to discuss this shock. Philip would realize this. He was most perceptive and would make an excuse to leave them, I guessed.

Susannah rose with alacrity. I believed she was looking forward to being alone with me.

When we reached her room she took a cursory look round it and turned to me. I obviously interested her far more.

"Isn't this ... fun?" she said. "I didn't know I was going to find a sister."

She shook out her hair and looked at her reflection. She laughed and came to me. Taking my arm, she drew me to the mirror and we stood there side by side.

"It's a fair likeness," she said.

"Well, perhaps."

"What do you mean ... perhaps! Why, I tell you, sister, that if you cut your hair in a fringe ... if you wore a fashionable garment like this one ... if you were a little less serious ... Do you see what I mean? Why, you even have a mole in the same place. Fancy that!"

I stared at it. I had forgotten how long ago that mole had seemed so significant when Anthony Felton tormented me because of it.

"I call it my beauty spot," went on Susannah.

"It's darker than mine," I said.

"Dear innocent Suewellyn! I'll confess to you and to you only. I touch it up a little with a special pencil I have for the purpose. I have perfect teeth ... you too, sister ... and the mole being where it is just calls attention to them. That's why they used to wear patches in the past. I wish we did now. How amusing that you should have one just in the same place. I tell you what we'll do. I'll touch yours up to accentuate it and we'll dress up as each other. Oh, it is exciting, finding you, Suewellyn!"

"Yes," I said, "it is."

"You must show me the island. I like the doctor. Are you going to marry him? He's rather handsome, isn't he? Not as distinguished as our dear papa, but then it is hard for anyone to compare with a Mateland. Don't you agree?"

"I think Philip is handsome," I said. "And we are not engaged to be married."

"Not ... yet," she said. I had a feeling that Susannah could see right through me. She fascinated me and at the same time made me feel very uncomfortable. My thoughts were in such a whirl and I was so entranced by her appearance that I could scarcely take in what she was saying. She was like me and yet so different. She was what I might have been if I had lived in a different world ... a world of castles and gracious living. That was the difference. Susannah exuded confidence; she believed herself to be fascinating and beautiful and, because she believed it, she was. Her features were so like mine that she could not have been so much more attractive than I without that belief. I was suddenly struck by the fact that I might have been exactly like her.

She was watching me in the mirror and again I had that uncomfortable feeling that she could read my thoughts.

She went on as though I had spoken. "Yes, we are alike ... taken feature by feature. Your nose is only a trifle longer than mine. But noses are important. Remember Cleopatra's? If it had been a fraction longer—or was it shorter—it would have changed the history of the world, someone said, didn't they? Well, I don't think that difference in our noses changes so much. I look slightly more pert than you do ... saucier, more irreverent. But perhaps that's my upbringing. Our mouths are different too. Yours is much sweeter—a rosebud of a mouth. Mine's wider ... it shows I'm very fond of the good things of life. Our eyes ... the same shape, the color very slightly different. You are a little fairer than I. Looking at us like this, the resemblance is not so striking, but if we dressed up ...if we impersonated each other ... oh, that would be another story. Let's do it one day, Suewellyn. We'll see if we can deceive them. I doubt we could Anabel. I am sure she knows every inch of your face. You are her little ewe lamb, aren't you? Do you know I was always aware of some secret Anabel was biding. It's hard to look back all those years. Can you look back, Suewellyn?"

"Yes, I can."

"And you were hidden away, weren't you? And I suppose on the night my father killed Uncle David they swooped down and carried you away with them to this desert island. What exciting lives we Matelands live, don't we?"

"This one's could hardly be described as such."

"Poor Suewellyn, we must alter that. We must make your life more amusing."

"I dare say you are the sort of person exciting things happen to."

"Only because I make them. I must show you how to make them happen to you, little sister."

"Not so little," I retorted.

"Younger. How much by? Do you know?"

We compared birthdays. "Ah, I am the senior," she said. "So I may call you little sister justifiably. So you were tucked away, were you? And Anabel used to visit you. It must have been a fearful quarrel they had that night. I shall never forget waking in the morning and feeling that something had happened. There was a terrible hush over the castle and the nurses refused to answer my questions. I kept asking where my father was. What had happened to my Uncle David? And my mother was just lying there on her bed as though she were dead like my uncle. It was a long time before I learned what had happened. They never tell children things, do they? They don't understand that what you can imagine might be far worse than what actually happened."

"There could hardly be a greater tragedy."

"You knew, did you? I suppose they told you. I suppose you know why."

"They will tell you if they think you should know," I said and she burst out laughing.

"You are a very self-righteous little sister. I dare say you always do what is right and honorable, don't you?"

"I shouldn't think so."

"Nor should I... if you are a Mateland. But imagine what it felt like having a murderer for a father. Though, of course, I didn't know this until later. I had to find out myself ... listening at doors. Servants are always chartering. 'Where is my father? Why isn't he here any more?' I was always asking, and they would button up their lips, and I knew by their eyes that they longed to tell me. And there was no one in the doctor's house and all the poor patients were sent away empty. And my mother, of course ... she was always ill. She would tell me nothing. If I mentioned my father to her she would just get tearful. But I got it out of Garth. He knew everything and he couldn't keep it to himself. He told me I was the daughter of a murderer. I've never forgotten that. I think he found some satisfaction in telling me. He said his mother hated me because my father had killed Uncle David."

She turned to me and laid her hand on my arm.

"I'm talking a great deal," she said. "I always do. But we'll have lots of time for talk, shan't we? There's so much I want to tell you ... so much I want to know about you. Dinner is in an hour, Anabel said."

"Shall I help you unpack?"

"Oh, I shall just drag something out of the bag and change now. Do you think the malevolent black woman could bring me some hot water?"

"I'll have it sent up."

"Tell her not to put a spell on it. She looks as though she brews them."

"She's quite benevolent really. It's only if you offend them that you have to take care. I'll have the hot water sent up and shall I come to you when dinner is ready?"

"That would be lovely, little sister."

I went out of her room and it was some time later when I remembered that mail had come with the boat and that there was a letter from Laura waiting for me.

Even as I slit the envelope my thoughts were full of Susannah.

My dear Suewellyn [I read],

It has happened at last. The wedding is to be in September. This will fit in just right for the boat. You can arrive a week before and help with the preparations. It is so exciting. My mother wants a grand wedding. The boys pretend they don't and it's a lot of nonsense. But I think they are thrilled really.

I'm having a white gown made. The bridesmaids' dresses are going to be pale blue. You are to be a bridesmaid. I shall have the dresses made up to a point and all they will need is a quick fitting when you come. I am writing to Philip too. You can travel together. Oh, Suewellyn, I'm so happy. I beat you to the post, didn't I? ...

I put the letter away. On the boat's next call I should be ready to leave with it. Philip could come with me. It might be that Laura's wedding would make him think that I was almost as grown up as his sister and that it was time I married too.

I was smiling to myself. It was all falling so naturally into place—or had been.

I had a feeling that things might change now that Susannah had come.

They did. Her very presence changed the place. There was a great deal of excitement on the island because of her. The girls and women chattered together about her and giggled as we passed by. The men followed her with their eyes.

Susannah enjoyed their interest. She was clearly delighted to be on the island.

She was charming, affable and affectionate; and yet her presence had an effect on us which was the reverse of comforting. ... I knew that she reminded Anabel of Jessamy and that disturbed her peace of mind. She was as conscious now of the wrong she had done Jessamy as she had been in the beginning.

"My poor Mama," Susannah said, "she was always so sad. Janet... do you remember Janet? Janet said she had no will to live. Janet was impatient. What's done's done,' she used to say. 'No use crying over spilled milk.' As if losing your husband and your best friend could be compared with knocking over the milk jug!" Susannah's laugh rang out as she recalled Janet and gave what I believe was a fair imitation of her. But, amusing as it might be, it brought back bitter memories to Anabel.

And my father? "A new doctor came to Mateland. People went on talking about you for years. ... It was a nine days' wonder, wasn't it? Poor Grandfather Egmont. He used to go about saying, I've lost both my sons at a stroke.' He made a great fuss of Esmond after a while and he invited Malcolm to stay more often. We wondered whether Malcolm would be the next in line of succession. We weren't sure because Grandfather Egmont had always borne a grudge against Malcolm's grandfather. He was always rather fond of me and some people thought I'd be the next if Esmond didn't have children. He was always rather fond of girls ... liked them a lot better than he liked boys... ." She laughed. "It's a family trait in the males which has persisted through the centuries. He seemed to realize that girls might have other attributes than good looks and charm. He used to go round the estate with me and show me things and talk to me about it. He used to say there was nothing like having two strings to your bow. Garth used to call Esmond, Malcolm and me the Three Strings."

Somehow in her seemingly lighthearted conversation she found the spot where best to thrust the barb, and when it came there would be an expression of such innocence on her face that no one could believe that she was aware of what she was doing.

She showed a great interest in the hospital but somehow managed to belittle it. It was wonderful to have such a place on a desert island, she said. It could have been part of a real hospital, couldn't it? They would have to train those black people to be nurses, she supposed. How very intriguing!

She made it all seem like a bit of play acting; and I noticed that there was a change in Philip now. He no longer had that exalted expression on his face when he talked about the work they were going to do.

I wondered whether even my father had begun to think of this project as a wild dream.

Anabel and I sat together in our favorite spot under the palm trees in the shadow of the Grumbling Giant, and as we looked over the pearly blue-green translucent sea and listened to the gentle breaking of the waves on the shore, Anabel said: "I wish Susannah hadn't come."

I was silent. I could not really agree because Susannah excited me. Things had changed since she came and, although I knew they had not done so in the most comfortable manner, I was completely fascinated by my half sister.

"I suppose really," said Anabel, "I'm being unfair. It's natural that she should bring back memories of things we would rather forget. One should not blame her. It's just that she makes us blame ourselves."