“It’s rather eerie,” said Julia. “That old gentleman looks as though he is going to step out of his frame and give us a good talking to.”

“He certainly looks rather severe,” agreed Drake. “That’s great great grandfather William. He was an admiral. There is a strong naval tradition in the family.”

”And some of these old gentlemen must be rather cross with you, Drake, for not carrying out the family tradition.”

Cassie said: “Are you afraid they might show their displeasure in some way?”

“They have been in their graves … for a long time.”

“Some say they live on afterwards,” said Cassie, “and some come back.”

”Even if they did I intend to do what I want to with my life as they did with theirs,” Drake told her.

“Why do they always connect revenants with old houses?” I ssked. “You rarely hear of haunted cottages. It is always big houses.”

Grand’mere said: ”The dead are dead… and however much one wants to have them back one cannot.” I knew she was thinking of my mother and Philip.

“This is actually the haunted gallery, isn’t it?” asked Cassie who appeared to be fascinated by the subject.

“Supposed to be,” said Drake.

“Is there some story … ?”

Drake looked at Isabel who said: “Well, there is.”

“Do tell us,” begged Cassie.

“Cassie,” I warned, “you won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“I don’t care. I long to hear.”

“You tell them,” said Drake to his sister.

“Well, the gallery is supposed to be haunted by a young girl … one of our family, of course. She was sixteen years old and it happened about two hundred years ago. She was in love with a young man and her father would not allow her to marry him. Instead he had found another husband for her—a rich ageing man. In those days girls had to obey their parents.”

“As they do not always do now,” added Grand’mere.

“I daresay there were some who did not then,” I suggested.

“Well, Anne Aldringham did. She said goodbye to her lover and married the man of her father’s choice. After the wedding all the guests came back here for the celebrations.” She closed her eyes. “Sometimes when I come up here I fancy I can hear the minstrels’ music. They were dancing downstairs in the great hall and suddenly they found that the bride was missing.”

“It’s like the mistletoe bough,” murmured Cassie.

“Not quite. They were not playing hide and seek and she was not locked in a chest where she stayed for a hundred years. She came up here and jumped out of a window. It is said to be that one.” Isabel pointed. “She jumped to her death.”

“Oh, poor poor Anne,” murmured Cassie.

“She should have run away with her lover,” said Julia. “I should.” She looked tenderly at Drake who did not meet her eyes.

“Well, she did not,” went on Isabel. “Instead she jumped out of that window.”

“And now,” suggested Cassie, “she haunts the place.”

“On certain occasions, it is said. When any of the family is about to marry someone who would bring him or her unhappi-ness, she is supposed to come through that window and walk along the gallery wringing her hands and crying, ‘Beware! Beware!’ “

“Have you ever seen her?” I asked Isabel.

She shook her head.

“So presumably all the marriages have been happy,” said Cassie.

“If you believe the story, yes. I don’t think the ghost is going to appear for us.”

Julia was looking steadily at me. “What a cheerful subject for a Christmas Eve. I hope my room is well away from the wailing lady.”

“You wouldn’t hear her down in your room,” consoled Isabel.

”Thank Heaven for that.”

“Let me give you some more port,” said Drake.

“Oh, isn’t this cosy!” Julia smiled round the company. “Christmas in this wonderful house … with wonderful people …” She lifted her glass. “Happy Christmas … to all.”

Her eyes had come to rest on Drake and they stayed there.

On Christmas morning we went to church. Julia came with us rather to my surprise, but she did seem as though she were determined not to let Drake out of her sight more than was possible.

I felt vaguely uneasy. I would never forget her fury when we were children and she had realized that Drake had left The Silk House because of me. She had looked quite murderous then.

I was now convinved that she wanted to marry Drake. I was sure he had not invited her although she had suggested that he had, or that she had misunderstood something he had said and had interpreted it as an invitation. It was too far-fetchecd. If he had wanted her to come why should he not have asked her outright in the normal way. The truth would be that Mia had discovered that I was at Swaddingham and had determined to come too.

I knew that she was drinking a great deal. It was becoming obvious in her high colour and her occasional aggressiveness and in the rather unguarded remarks she would make when she was a little less than sober.

I wondered if Drake was aware of this. He was always extremely courteous and, after the initial shock of finding her here, had played the perfect host.

There was the traditional Christmas dinner eaten at midday; turkey followed by Christmas pudding brought ablaze to the table and served with brandy butter—and then of course mince pies. Several of the neighbours, friends who supported Drake as their member of Parliament, were present; and there was a great deal of conversation about political affairs, and an election which seemed imminent.

After lunch we rested awhile.

I was very grateful to Drake for taking a little time to lead Katie round the paddock in the afternoon—a source of great delight to her; and I liked to see how happy she and Drake were together.

There were more guests in the evening when we had a cold buffet supper and minstrels came in and played. There was dancing in the long gallery which lost its eeriness with so many people present.

Drake had to dance with all the female guests and I had only one with him. He asked me if I was enjoying my stay and I assured him that I was. He said he was glad. He had so much wanted me to come down and see everything. He wanted me to tell him frankly what I thought about the life a politician was expected to lead.

“You know what I think of that,” I told him. “It must be one of the most interesting professions possible.”

”Even better than running an exclusive dress salon? “

“That has its points,” I replied.

“I’m sure it has.”

“Isabel is wonderful in the way she copes with everything.”

“She has done it all her life. First at home, then with Harry and now with me. Isabel is a wonderful person.”

“I know. Nothing ruffles her. She was quite unprepared for Julia and did not show it.”

“Yes. She certainly did not.”

I was waiting for him to assure me that he had not invited her. It was important to me that he should not have done so.

But he said nothing and I could not ask.

Later I saw him with Julia. She was very flushed and laughing all the time; and he was smiling as though he were enjoying the dance. One would never really know what he was feeling.

When I went to my room that evening Katie was fast asleep. I bent over and kissed her lovely innocent face. I prepared slowly for bed. I knew I should find sleep difficult. A sense of disappointment was still with me. It had come with Julia’s arrival.

I kept thinking about Drake and Julia. I kept seeing them dancing together. She had a proprietorial manner towards him, and he did not seem to resent this. Or did he? He did not show his feelings; his manners were impeccable; he had to play the perfect host. Had he invited her? I was unsure.

I could not sleep. I lay staring out of the window. I looked over at Katie sleeping peacefully. She was mine entirely and while I had her I must be happy … no matter what. But my disappointment and frustration stayed with me.

Suddenly I was wide awake. Something was happening upstairs. I got out of bed and put on my dressing gown and slippers.

I went out and up the stairs to the long gallery. A few candles had been lighted and they burned fitfully in their sconces. I saw Isabel. She was seated on a settle, a young girl beside her. The girl was crying.

“It’s all right,” said Isabel, when she saw me. “Patty was feeling a little hysterical.”

The girl said: “But I heard it, M’am. I heard it distinct. It was awful ghostly like. …”

Drake had come hurrying up.

“What on earth is happening?” he demanded.

Isabel said: “Patty’s had a nightmare.”

“Oh no it wasn’t… .” said Patty. Three of the other maids emerged from the shadows.

“I heard it too,” said one of them. “Oh, it was terrible. I never heard the like… . Someone was crying something aw-ful. She said, ‘Beware! Beware! …’ Three times she said it. Oh, it was terrible, M’am. I was shivering for it turned terrible cold sudden like.”

“That was because you were only in your night things.”

Julia had come to the top of the stairs. Her hair was hanging about her shoulders becomingly and she was clutching a pale lavender negligee about her.

“What’s wrong? Oh, my goodness. What has happened? That poor girl. She looks scared out of her wits.”

“Patty has had a nightmare,” repeated Isabel.

Patty shook her head, her teeth chattering.

“I was wide awake, M’am. …”

“I think a little brandy, Drake,” said Isabel. “Oh, there’s Harry. Harry, Patty’s had some sort of dream. The girls are all upset. Do bring some brandy. It will quieten them down.”

Mrs. Gratten, the cook, appeared. She sailed in majestically in spite of the fact that her hair was in curl papers.

“What is it?” she said to one of the girls. “What’s wrong with Patty?”

“She’s a little hysterical, Mrs. Gratten,” said Isabel. “There’s no need for everybody to get so excited. I think they were probably frightening themselves with ghost stories before going to bed.”

“No we wasn’t, M’am,” said one of the girls. “Nobody said nothing about a ghost. It just came into Patty’s head. And I heard it, too. It wasn’t fancy. It was the real thing. You could tell.”

Julia said:’ ‘It wasn’t that ghost you were telling us about… the one who comes in through the window and weeps and cried, ‘Beware’?”

“Yes, M’am, that’s it,” said Patty. “I heard her footsteps all along the gallery. She was crying something awful and she said, ‘Beware.’ That was it.”

“Oh, here’s Harry with the brandy,” said Isabel. “Thank you, Harry. Now you girls, drink this and get to bed.”

“I’ll see to them, Mrs. Denton,” said the cook. “I don’t know what things are corning to … rousing the household like this.”

“But it was the ghost, Mrs. Gratten,” insisted Patty. “It was truly.”

Drake said: “I think we all need a little fortification. Come down to the drawing room.”

We followed him down. He poured out the brandy and very soon Isabel joined us.

“I hope all this didn’t wake Katie,” she said.

“No. I looked in. She was sleeping peacefully.”

“Oh … good.”

“What an extraordinary thing,” said Julia. “After we’d been talking … What do you think that girl really heard?”

“Someone has been telling her the story, I should think,” I said.

“That is very likely,” agreed Isabel.

“It really was rather strange,” went on Julia. “In any case you’d better take it as a warning, Drake.”

Drake raised his eyebrows.

“Well, isn’t it something to do with an impending marriage … warnings and all that? You’re the only marriageable member of the family. Don’t you agree with me?”

“I always thought Patty was the hysterical type.”

“It was odd all the same,” said Julia. “The brandy is deli-ciously warming.”

“A little more?” suggested Harry.

“Oh yes please,” said Julia.

I said: “I am going now. I don’t want Katie to wake up and find me not there.”

“Poor Lenore,” consoled Julia. “You look really shocked. You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”

“Do you?” I asked.

Julia laughed and lifting her hand swayed from side to side. “Not really. But it is rather odd. I wonder if that girl overheard us talking… .”

“I daresay she had heard the story somewhere. Good night.”

I left them.

Katie was still sleeping. I knew I could not hope to. I lay in bed for some time listening to the noises of the house … the boards which creaked as they always did in old houses … and the wind seemed to moan in the trees and to whisper softly, ‘Beware.”