Saraband for Two Sisters

“Yes, Father,” she answered. She did not seem in the least afraid of him, which always surprised me in someone so mild and peace-loving. The thought occurred to me that she knew something ... something he would rather she did not know, and that gave her power over him. Being our mother, she would only use that power not to be afraid.

“And these are your girls. Where’s the boy?”

“He has work at home. His father may be arriving home and someone must be there to greet him.”

A sneer curved Grandfather’s lips. “On East India business is it?”

“But of course,” said my mother placidly.

“And these are the girls ... two of them ... like as two peas in a pod. It was like you to get two girls. We need boys. There’s your brother with all those girls and only one boy to show for years of marriage.”

“It’s a custom in the family. You had but one, Father, so you can’t complain of Connell.”

“We’re let down by our wives. We can get boys but not on them.»

“You have little to complain of. Melanie has been a good daughter to you and Melder looks after you well.”

“Oh, yes, I must count my blessings in my own home. I must be grateful because I am allowed to live under my own roof. What do those girls think they’re doing standing there like dummies. Come here and let me look at you.”

Our mother drew us forward.

“Do they need you to hold their hands while they beard the old lion in his den?” shouted Grandfather. “Don’t get too near, my children. I might eat you.” He was terrifying close. His brows grew thick and bushy and under them his eyes were piercing. He stretched out a hand and gripped my arm.

“Which one are you?”

“Angelet,” I answered.

“And this one?”

“Bersaba.”

“Outlandish names,” he said.

“Good Cornish names,” answered my mother.

“One named for the Angels and one after a woman who was not such an angel. Bathsheba-that’s the origin.” He was very interested in origins of words and old customs of the countryside.

Linnet, his wife, had been from Devon, but he was proud of his Cornish blood. He peered at Bersaba and his eyes traveled all over her as though he were assessing her capabilities. She returned his gaze fearlessly. Then he get Visitors from the Past it gave my sister a little push. “Growing up,” lie said. “Marry well and sons.” I shall do my best,” said Bersaba.

I could see that he liked her and that she interested him more than I did, which was strange because he seemed to sense some difference in us which others couldn’t see.

“And don’t take long about it. Let me see my great-grandchildren before I die.”

“The twins are only seventeen, Father,” said my mother.

He gave a long throaty chuckle and, stretching out a hand, gave Bersaba a push.

“They’re ready,” he said. “Ripe and ready.”

Bersaba blushed bright red.

My mother said: “We’re staying here for a few days, Father. We’ll come and see you again.”

“One of the penalties of calling here,” said our grandfather. “You’re expected to take in the old ogre while you enjoy yourselves with the rest of the family.»

“Why, you know one of our reasons for coming is to see you,” protested our mother. “Your mother was always one for observing the conventions,” said my grandfather, “but I doubt you’ll follow in her footsteps.” He was looking at Bersaba. Melder said, “Well, we’ll go down now.”

“Oh, yes,” cried Grandfather. “The watchdog thinks it time you left before I show my fangs. She’d draw them if she could. She’s the worst sort of female, your cousin Melder. Don’t grow up like her. A shrew, she is. She’s a woman who takes sides against a man. She’s got a grudge against us because no man wants her as a wife.”

“Now, Father,” protested my mother, “I am sure-“ “You are sure... . There’s one thing I can be sure of where you’re concerned. You’re going to say what you think is the right thing no matter if it means turning your back on the truth. That creature there is scarce a woman, for woman was brought into the world to please man and be fruitful.”

Melder showed no sign that she was hurt by this tirade, and indeed he was not looking at her; his eyes were on us and, particularly I fancied, Bersaba. He started to laugh suddenly and his laughter was as frightening as his anger.

Melder had opened the door.

“Well, we’ll be along to see you tomorrow,” my mother said as though it had been the most pleasant of visits.

He was still laughing when the door shut on him.

“In one of his bad moods today,” commented my mother. “He’s in them every day,” answered Melder in a matter-of-fact voice. “The sight of some young girls sets him off on those lines. He seems to find some consolation for his immobility in abusing me. It’s of no account ... if it eases him.»