Saraband for Two Sisters

“He thought it would be amusing. It was going to be much bigger, but he found the building too costly so he contented himself with a small one because he had vowed he would have a castle. It was called a Folly because it was rather a foolish thing to do.”

“I must explore it!” I cried.

“No, don’t. You see, a fairly high wall has been built around it. That’s because it’s not safe. It was not very securely built. One of these days I shall have to pull it down. But don’t go near it. You mustn’t Promise me you won’t.»

“Of course I’ll promise. You sound so... earnest.”

“Well, I don’t want a ton of bricks to descend upon this defenseless head.”

“I’m sorry. It looks ... exciting.”

“You must not go there. I insist. Promise me.”

“I already have.”

“Remember it, please.”

His face was stern as it had been when he had insisted on my getting rid of Mab.

“Come,” he said, “it’s cold here.”

He drew me toward the bed.

I awoke to sunshine and remembered where I was. I put out my hand and felt that I was alone.

I sat up in bed. The curtains about the bed were half-drawn. I shivered with a sort of thankfulness because I had survived the night. I did not want to think about it.

There was no one with whom I could discuss it. Perhaps I might have done so with Bersaba. I wondered whether I were pregnant. I should love to have a child. That was the side of marriage which I should enjoy, and the very fact that I expressed my feelings in that way was in itself an admission that there was another side which I did not enjoy.

I pulled the bell rope, which was the signal for Grace to bring my hot water. I washed and put on my riding habit and went downstairs.

Richard was in the dining room having breakfast. I found it difficult to look at him, I felt so embarrassed. But he rose and, putting his arms about me, kissed me. “Good morning, my dearest,” he said warmly, and a little glow of happiness came to me.

“Perhaps I was all right after all,” I thought, and my spirits rose.

“I see you are dressed for riding,” he said.

“I have only my riding habit and the gown I wore last night.»

“Your things will be here today. Grace or Meg will unpack them for you. Today I am going to show you over the house. Then you won’t lose yourself. And perhaps we will ride around the neighborhood a little. Would you like that?»

“I should love it.” I was happy now, assuring myself that everything was going to be all right after all.

During the day I began to think I had worried unnecessarily and I told myself that the night was a long way off and that Richard gave no sign that his affection for me had diminished.

He was very anxious to show me the house and this he did. There was no doubt that he loved the place. I followed him up the staircase lighted by small quatrefoil oeilets, which he pointed out to me and showed me how the soffits formed a continuous spiral vault which he said was quite unusual. Lovingly he stroked the molded brick handrail and told me that a great deal of assiduous care had gone into the construction of this house. The castle in Cumberland had been originally built as a fortress and then added to over five centuries, but Far Flamstead had been built as a place for people to live in comfort.

In the gallery were portraits of his ancestors. “I had some of them brought here from the castle,” he told me. “You see from these that there has always been a strong military tradition in our family.”

He took me to the chapel with its linenfold-ended pews and barrelvaulted ceiling. The wooden ribs of the ceiling were engraved with Tudor roses. It struck a chill into me and as our footsteps echoed on the glazed tiles a feeling of foreboding came over me and I felt a quick rush of nostalgia for the Priory and my family.

It was so insistent that for a few panic-stricken moments I would have been ready to run out of the house, leap onto a horse, and gallop off in the direction of the southwest ‘What’s the matter?” asked Richard.

I don’t know. It’s so cold in here.”

“Yes, and too dark”

“I have the feeling that a lot has happened here.”

 “A priest was murdered at the altar there. One of my ancestresses was a Catholic during Elizabeth’s reign. She had a priest here in secret. Her son discovered him at mass and murdered him while he stood there with the chalice in his hands.»

“How ... terrible. You think he haunts the chapel... that priest-“ “He died instantly. That was the end of him.”

“Do you believe people come back to haunt a place where they have died violently?”

“I believe that is nonsense. Just think of all the people who have died violently.

The world would be full of ghosts.”

“Perhaps it is.”

“Oh, come, my dear, you are fanciful. And you don’t like the chapel. We don’t have a resident priest now and I don’t think the King could bring in laws against the Catholics since his wife is such an ardent one.”

“But he is not so kind toward Puritans.”

“Ah, that is another matter.”

“It’s intolerance just the same.”

“Of course it is. Do you give a lot of thought to these matters’?»