of family sentiment and perhaps because she was only happy as a child.
How queer to think that the old lady in the black military cloak was
the Miss Milly who went to the dancing class! It makes me wonder what I shall be like when I am old.
My hand is very tired but I want to go on writing.
I keep resting and thinking. All day I have been two people--the me
imprisoned in yesterday and the me out here on the mound; and now there is a third me trying to get in--the me in what is going to happen next.
Will the Cottons ask us to Scoatney his Topaz thinks they will.
She says the oddness of the bear incident will fascinate them, just as they were fascinated by the oddness of the first night they came to the castle--and that Rose running away will have undone the damage she did by being too forthcoming. If only she doesn't forth-come again! Topaz approves of my telling her last night; she had a talk with her herself about it this morning and Rose listened with surprising civility.
"Just be rather quiet and do a lot of listening until you feel at ease," Topaz advised her.
"And for pity's sake don't be challenging. Your looks will do the challenging if you give them the chance."
I do love Topaz when she is in a down-to-earth mood.
Is it awful to join in this planning? Is it trying to sell one's
sister?
But surely Rose can manage to fall in love with them--I mean, with
whichever one will fall in love with her. I hope it will be Neil,
because I really do think Simon is a little frightening-only it is Neil who thinks England is a joke ...... I have been resting, just staring down at the castle. I wish I could find words--serious, beautiful
words- to describe it in the afternoon sunlight; the more I strive for them, the more they utterly elude me. How can one capture the pod of
light in the courtyard, the golden windows, the strange long-ago look, the look that one sees in old paintings his I can only think of "the light of other days," and I didn't make that up ...... Oh-- I I have just seen the Cottons" car on the Godsend road --near the high
cross-roads, where one gets the first glimpse of the castle. They are coming here! Do I watch and wait again? No fear!
I am going down.
VII
WE are asked to Scoatney, to dinner, a week from today!
And there is something else I want to write about, something belonging to me. Oh, I don't know where to begin!
I got down from Belmotte in time to warn the others Rose and Topaz were ironing and Rose put on a clean blouse hot from the iron. Topaz just
tidied herself and then set the tea tray. I washed and then reckoned I had only enough time either to warn Father or to brush my hair; but I managed to do both by taking the comb and brush to the gatehouse with me. Father jumped up so quickly that I feared he was going to rush out to avoid the Cottons, but he merely grabbed my hairbrush and brushed
his coat with it-neither of us felt it was a moment for fussiness.
In the end, we had a few minutes to spare because they left the car at the end of the lane-the mud is dry now but the ruts are still deep.
"Mrs. Cotton's with them!" I cried, as they came round the last bend of the lane. Father said he would meet them at the gatehouse
arch--"It's not going to be my fault if anything goes wrong this time; I've promised Topaz." Then he looked a bit grim and added:
"I'm glad you're still on the young side to be marketed."
I bolted back to Rose and Topaz. They had lit a wood fire in the
drawing-room and arranged some daffodils. The fire made the room feel more spring like than ever. We opened the windows and the swans sailed by, looking mildly interested. Suddenly I remembered that first spring afternoon in the drawing-room, with Rose playing her piece. I saw
Mother leaning out over the moat--I saw her gray dress so clearly,
though I still couldn't see her face. Something inside me said "Oh, Mother, make the right thing happen for Rose!"--and I had a vision of poor Mother scurrying from Heaven to do the best she could. The way
one's mind can dash about just while one opens a window!
Then Father came in with the Cottons.
Rose thought Mrs. Cotton beautiful but that isn't how I would describe her. Topaz is beautiful- largely because of the strangeness of her
face: that look she has of belonging to a whiter-than-white race. Rose, with her lovely coloring and her eyes that can light up her whole
expression, is beautiful. Mrs.
Cotton is handsome--no, that makes her sound too big. She is just
wonderfully good-looking, wonderfully right-looking. She has exactly
the right amount of color. Her black hair is going gray without
looking streaky because it has exactly the right number of gray hairs in exactly the right places--and it has exactly the right amount of
wave. Her figure is perfect, and so were her clothes--just country
tweeds but so much more exciting than I ever thought tweeds could be; they had clear colors in them, shades of blue which made you notice her eyes. I rather fear that I stared too hard at her --I hope she
realized that it was only admiration. As she is Simon Cotton's Mother she can't be much less than fifty, which is hard to believe.
Yet now I come to think of it, I can't imagine her being any younger; it is just that she is a different kind of fifty from any I have ever seen.
She came in talking solidly, and solidly is a very good word to
describe it; it made me think of a wall of talk. Fortunately she
speaks beautifully--just as Simon does--and she doesn't in the least
mind being interrupted; her sons do it all the time and Father soon
acquired the technique--it was him she talked to most. After he had
introduced Topaz and me and she had shaken hands with us all, and hoped Rose had recovered from her shock, and said "Will you look at those swans ?" -she started on to Jacob Wrestling and how she had heard Father lecture in America. They went on interrupting each other in a
perfectly friendly manner, Rose sat on the window seat and talked to
Simon, and Topaz and I slipped out to bring the tea in. Neil kindly
came after us saying he would carry things.
We stood round the kitchen fire waiting for the kettle to boil.
"Doesn't your Mother really know Rose was the bear ?" I asked.
"Gosh, no-that wouldn't do at all," he said, "it isn't her kind of joke. Anyway, it wouldn't be fair to your sister."
I did see that, of course I Mrs. Cotton would have wondered why on
earth Rose was running away. (i suppose Neil guesses it was because
she felt they had dropped us. Dear me, how embarrassing!) "But I can't see how anyone could believe that you killed the bear with a
pitchfork," I said.
"I didn't. I only wounded it- badly, I think, but not enough to put it out of action. It came blundering towards me, I stepped aside and it
crashed head-first into the river- I could hear it threshing about in the darkness. I picked up a big stone-poor brute, I hated to do it but I had to finish it off. It gave just one groan as the stone hit it and then went down. I held the lantern high; I could see the bubbles
coming up. And then I saw the dark bulk of it under the water, being
carried along by the current."
"But you didn't have a lantern," I said.
"He didn't have a bear," said Topaz.
For a moment I had almost believed him myself--and felt most
desperately sorry for the bear. No wonder Mrs.
Cotton has been deceived.
"Mother made us go over to compensate the circus owner this morning,"
he went on, grinning.
"It's just a midget of a circus-he didn't have any bears at all, as a matter of fact; but he said he'd be delighted to back our story up- he hoped it might get him a bit of publicity. I tried to buy one of his
lions but he wouldn't sell."
"What did you want a lion for ?" I asked.
"Oh, they were kind of cute," he said vaguely.
Then the kettle boiled and we took the tea in.
After Neil had helped to hand things round, he went and sat by Rose on the window-seat. And Simon came and talked to Topaz politely. Father
and Mrs. Cotton were still interrupting each other happily. It was
fascinating to watch them all, but the conversations cancelled each
other out so that I couldn't listen to any of them. I was anxious
about Rose. I could see she was letting Neil do most of the talking,
which was excellent; but she didn't seem to be listening to him, which was not so good. She kept leaning out of the window to feed the swans.
Neil looked a bit puzzled.
Then I noticed that Simon kept watching her, and after a while she
caught his eye and gave him a smile. Neil shot a quick glance at her, then got up and asked Topaz for some more tea (though I noticed he
didn't drink it). Simon went over to Rose. She still didn't say much, but she looked as if everything he said was terrifically interesting. I caught a word here and there, he was telling her about Scoatney Hall. I heard her say: "No, I've never seen the inside." He said: "But you must, of course. We were hoping you'd dine with us one night next
week." Then he turned to Mrs. Cotton and she invited us. There was an awful moment when I thought I was going to be left out because she said: "Is Cassandra old enough for dinner parties ?" but Neil said
"You bet she is!" and it was all right.
Oh, I do like Neil! When they went, I walked up the lane with him;
Father was with Mrs. Cotton, and Rose with Simon. Neil asked how we