I nodded.

"He was ill then ... desperately ill. As you know, we thought that was the end ... but he recovered. We thought he would the second time. It was a great blow. Malcolm took over estate matters. He's very friendly with Jeff Carleton."

"Oh, is he?" I said.

"Yes. I believe Jeff thinks the place should have gone to Malcolm after Esmond. In fact I thought it might. But your grandfather always had a prejudice against Malcolm because of his grandfather. They hated each other, those two brothers. I never knew such a family for feuds."

I felt a tremor of uneasiness. I should know these people. I was skating on very thin ice and I must inevitably come to a spot where the ice was too thin—and then would be disaster.

"I dare say Jeff Carleton will be wanting to see you soon. He's a bit uneasy about things, but of course that's natural."

"Of course," I replied, desperately searching in my mind for some clue received in the past which would tell me who Jeff Carleton was.

"He's hoping everything will be run in the same way. I don't suppose you'll want to change anything. I always thought dear Esmond was a trifle too easygoing."

I nodded. I was building up a picture of Esmond. Quiet. Easygoing.

"I think he gave Jeff rather a free hand and I dare say Jeff is hoping that will continue."

"I dare say," I said.

"There was always such a fuss about the estate and I suppose when David died Jeff assumed authority. He got a taste for it, Esmond being so young."

"And easygoing," I added.

She nodded.

I drank some of the hot tea. It was reviving, but I could eat nothing. I was too overwrought.

Emerald continued to talk and desperately I floundered, trying to catch at some thread and comment sensibly. It was exhausting and when there was a knock on the door and Janet entered to say that my bags were now in my room I rose with alacrity. I was looking forward to a few hours in which to assimilate what I had learned.

I rose and said I would go to my room.

"See you at dinner," said Emerald.

I went out. Now was the moment to look for my room. I guessed it would be on the next floor. I looked over my shoulder furtively. It was important that no one see me. I hurried up the stairs. As I reached the top a figure emerged from the far end of the corridor. It was Janet.

"Just going to your room, Miss Susannah?" she said.

"Er ... yes," I replied.

"Well, your bags are there. I went up with them to make sure everything was all right."

"Oh, thank you." Go away, I wanted to shout. What are you hanging about for? It was almost as though she knew what a quandary I was in and wanted to catch me.

I walked past her and she started towards the stairs. There was a window in the corridor. I went to it and loitered as though looking down on the scene below—at the green lawns and the woodlands in the distance.

I thought she had gone and turned towards the first door. I was about to open it swiftly when I heard her voice. "No ... no ... I shouldn't, Miss Susannah. I shouldn't if I were you."

She had come back and was standing behind me, her hand on my arm.

"It would be too painful for you. It's just as he left it. His mother wouldn't let us change it. I think she comes up here sometimes. It's not easy for her to get up. I think she just sits there and broods, grieving because he's gone."

Esmond's room! I thought. What a lucky escape! She thought I was going in to brood.

I wanted to get rid of her. I said with what I felt was the right amount of emotion: "I have to go in, Janet."

She sighed and stepped into the room with me. It was very neat. There was his bed, the line of bookshelves along one wall, the bureau in the corner, the armchairs, the bronze-colored curtains with a chrysanthemum pattern on them.

Janet was behind me. "He died in that bed," she said. "His mother won't have anything changed. But I wouldn't advise you to stay in here, Miss Susannah. I don't know. It's eerie. Not good for you."

I answered: "I want to wait here awhile, Janet. I want to be alone."

"All right then. You do what you want to." She went out and shut the door.

I sat down on a chair and it was not of Esmond that I was thinking but of Janet and how I was to find my room without her knowing that I was seeking it.

After a while I cautiously opened the door and looked into the corridor. All was quiet and deserted. Stealthily I made my way along the corridor, opening one door after another and looking for my bags.

There were several bedrooms. Cautiously I opened the door right at the end of the corridor, and I found the room which contained my bags.

Strained and nervous, I went in and sank onto the bed.

And this was just the first few hours.

While I was unpacking there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," I called, my heart starting to pound as it did when I was about to encounter some fresh trial.

It was Janet again.

"Can I be of help?"

"No, thanks. I can manage."

"Is there anything they've forgotten to put in your room?"

"I don't think so."

"Grace, that new maid ... she's a bit scared of you."

"Why should she be?"

"Oh, she's heard of you and your tantrums. And now you're the mistress, so to speak."

I laughed uneasily.

"Are you going to put these things in the drawer? All neatly folded. That's not like you, Miss Susannah. I never knew anyone so untidy. Things always scattered over the floor. Now you've turned tidy. Is that what travel's done for you?"

"You might say it is. When you're packing and unpacking you realize you have to keep things in some sort of order."

She nodded. "I want to say something to you." She lowered her voice. "It's about Anabel."

"Yes?" I asked uneasily.

"You saw her on that island place. How was she?"

"She was well and happy and seemed satisfied with life."

Janet shook her head. "It was a terrible blow to me when she went away. She was like one of my own. She ought not to have left me like that."

"She could hardly have taken you with her."

"Why not? I came here with her from the vicarage. I belonged with her ... not here."

"Well, you stayed here."

"I was fond of her," mused Janet. "She was a bit of a minx ... up to tricks ... you never knew what it would be next... but she had a sweet nature."

I could not speak. I feared to betray my emotion.

"And they were happy there ... her and that Mr. Joel?" she went on. "I'll never forget that night. All the rushing to and fro ... all the noise and chatter ... and then finding him out there. I remember them carrying him in on a stretcher. It didn't seem like real life somehow. But the thing about real life is that it can sometimes be like what is unreal. Oh, my poor Miss Anabel!"

I thought: There is a purpose in all this. She is suspicious. She is testing me. It means something.

"There was a little girl," she said. "I saw her once. A nice little thing. I wonder what became of her."

"She was there ... with them," I told her.

"Well, bless me! I might have known. Miss Anabel wouldn't have gone away and left her."

"No, she didn't."

"And you would have seen her on this island then, Miss Susannah."

"Yes, I saw her. She was Suewellyn."

"That's right. They had a picnic once. I was there."

"Did they?" My heart was racing now. I feared it would betray my agitation.

"Yes. A nice bewildered little thing. I could see she was a Mateland. What became of her?"

I could feel Janet's eyes on me and I said quickly: "She was on the island ... when it happened. She went with them."

"Poor mite. She reminded me of you when I saw her. About the same age ... the same build ... and that something about her which made you say, 'No doubt what stable she came out of!' It's a terrible tragedy ... and a mercy you were not there when it happened. Funny what made you go over to Sydney just at the right time."

"You seem to know all about it, Janet."

"Well, the news came to Mrs. Mateland, you see, through those lawyers. Mr. Joel would have been the real heir after Esmond had gone if he hadn't been disinherited. It made it neater all the same to have him out of the way, so to speak. Old Mr. Egmont was in a fine way when he realized he'd lost both his sons at the crack of a gun, as it were. He disinherited Master Joel and in any case there was Mr. Esmond. Who would have thought he would have died like that? I'm glad the little girl was with Miss Anabel. I was only with them a little while but it was heart-warming to see them together ... though it was wrong, of course. My poor Miss Anabel. She deserved better."

"Yes," I said fervently. "She did."

Janet looked at me sharply and I went on quickly: "Well, it's all over now."

"So many deaths," added Janet. "I don't like it. That volcano ... well, that's an act of God. Poor Mr. Esmond, too. I wonder how long his room will be left. His mother don't want anything disturbed. Are you going to stick to that, Miss Susannah? The papers in his desk ... his books and all that ... not to be touched ... left exactly as they were when he died... . Well, that's the way his mother wanted it."

"We'll see, Janet," I said.

She looked at me dolefully and went out. When she had gone I sat on my bed staring into space.

Does she suspect something? I asked myself.

I got through the evening quite well. I could manage with Emerald, for in the first place she was partially blind and was unable to notice any difference between Susannah and me. Moreover she was a woman who was completely wrapped up in herself, which was a great help in a situation like this one. Any differences she might discover she gave little thought to beyond assuming they were due to the effects of travel.

It was different with the servants. Some of them had known Susannah since her childhood, but I think they were accepting me as Susannah though they thought I had changed.

The one I really had to fear was Janet. Janet knew too much.

She knew of the existence of Suewellyn. She might put two and two together. And then what?

That very first evening the fact of how easily I could slip up was brought home to me. Who would have believed I could be betrayed by such a simple thing as a pudding?

The dessert that night was ginger pudding. I felt disinclined to eat anything and I had some cheese and biscuits after the main dish, declining the pudding. Chaston, the butler, must have reported this, for after I had said good night to Emerald and was going to my room, about to mount the staircase, a flustered red-faced woman came from behind the screens and placed her ample body between me and the stairs.

"Is anything wrong?" I asked.

"Yes, Miss Susannah, there is."

"What?" I asked.

"I'd like to know, miss, if you are of the opinion that I am no longer worthy to cook for this household."

Such a verbose statement, delivered in what I can only call a bellicose manner, was an indication that the ire of this lady had been most forcefully aroused.

I wondered why I should be confronted in this way and then I remembered that I was supposed to be Susannah, the mistress of this vast establishment.

"Why, no," I said. "I thought the food was excellent."

"What was wrong with my ginger pudding that it should be sent back untouched?"

"Nothing, I am sure."

"But something for you to turn your nose up at! Why, it was done special for you, knowing as how you had always had a partiality for the same. I go to the trouble to make it on your first night ... knowing as how I always did when you come home from anywhere ... and there'd always be hardly any left when it come back to my kitchen. Not so much as a sliver taken."

"Oh, M—" I had forgotten that I did not know her name. "I'm sorry. The fact is ... I'm too tired to be hungry tonight"

"No," she went on, ignoring my interruption. "It comes out just as it was took in. I said to myself when I see that pudding coming out: 'Well, Mrs. Bates, it seems your cooking ain't grand enough for them that is world travelers.' I could tell you, miss, there's some not very far from here who'd welcome in their houses someone who could make a ginger pudding like that one."

"It's only because I'm so tired, Mrs. Bates."