The changeling

“Well, ‘tis natural like, Miss ... he being brother to the mistress.”

“Quite natural,” I said.

Leah had not been well for the last few days and I suggested that she see a doctor.

“Oh no, Miss. I be all right.” She was emphatic. “ Tis just the change of air, maybe.”

“There is a difference between here and London, Leah,” I reminded her. “But this is more like Cornwall.”

“Oh no, Miss, nothing be quite like Cornwall.”

I thought she looked a little tired. She told me she had had a bad night. “Go to bed for an hour or so now,” I told her. “It will do you a lot of good.” At length she agreed and I took the children into the garden. I was near the Hermes pool, lazily watching the gnats dancing above the water and the girls bouncing a red ball between them, when suddenly I was aware that we were not alone.

I looked up sharply. A man was standing nearby watching us. He smiled. He had one of the most charming smiles I had ever seen. It was warm and friendly and there was a hint of mischief in it. He took off his hat and bowed low. The children stopped playing and stood still watching him. “What a charming group,” he said. “I must apologize for disturbing it. I believe I am in the presence of Miss Rebecca Mandeville.”

“You are right.”

“And one of these charming young ladies is Miss Belinda Lansdon.”

“It’s me,” shrieked Belinda.

“If Miss Stringer were here what would she say?” I asked.

“Don’t shout,” said Lucie. “That’s what she’d say. You’re always shouting, Belinda.”

“People want to hear what 7 say,” Belinda pointed out.

“You are forgetting your manners,” I said. “And what Miss Stringer would say is ‘Watch your grammar.’ It should be ‘It is I’ not ‘me.’ “

“Well, it is me all the same however you say it.” She went to the newcomer and held out her hand. “I am Belinda,” she said.

“I guessed,” he told her.

“Are you looking for Mr. Lansdon?” I asked. “He’s in London.”

“Is that so? Well, I must content myself with meeting his charming family.”

“You know who we are,” I said. “Could you introduce yourself?”

“You must forgive the omission. I have been so overcome with pleasure to meet you in this somewhat unconventional manner. I am Oliver Gerson. I might say an associate of your stepfather.”

“I presume you want to talk business with him.”

“Not as much as I want to chat in the sunshine with his family.” I thought he was a little too suave-the typical man about town with a talent for paying flattering compliments which were obviously false, although I had to admit that he did so with a certain grace and charm which inclined one to forget the insincerity. He asked if he might sit with us. Lucie came and stood close to me. Belinda was stretched on the grass; she stared with unconcealed interest at the newcomer. He surveyed her benignly: “You are putting me under close scrutiny, Miss Belinda,” he said.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“You are studying me intently, wondering whether I fit into your scheme of things.”

She was a little taken aback but pleased to have his attention focused on her.

“Tell us about you,” she said.

“I am an associate of your father. We are in business together. I, however, never did aspire to the Houses of Parliament. Now tell me, Miss Rebecca, is it true that you are shortly to be presented to the Queen?”

“I can do the curtsy,” cried Belinda, and leaping up proceeded to show him.

“Bravo!” he shouted. “What a pity you are not going to be presented too.”

“They don’t present little girls.”

“But fortunately little girls become bigger in due course.”

“But they have to wait until then. I’ve got ages to wait.”

“Time will soon pass, will it not, Miss Rebecca?”

I said yes it would and before long it would be Belinda’s and Lucie’s turns.

“We know how to do it already,” Lucie observed.

“You have recently come from Cornwall?” he asked.

“What a lot you know about us!”

“I am very interested in Benedict’s family. Are you going to help him hold his seat?”

“I shall help him if I want to,” announced Belinda.

“You are a young lady of whims, I see.”

Belinda had sidled up to him and placed her hands on his knees. “What’s whims?” she asked.

“Passing fancies ... impulsive acts ... Is that how you would describe it, Miss Rebecca?”

“I should think that is an accurate description.”

He looked at me earnestly. “I shall look forward to seeing you after your initiation.”

“Oh, shall you be in town?”

“Indeed I shall. I have wanted to meet you ever since I heard you were leaving the remote land of Cornwall.”

“You heard of that?”

“Your stepfather is very proud of his stepdaughter and very eager to see her entry into society.”

“Oh, do you know him well?”

“Indeed. We work together.”

“Yes, I believe you did tell us this.”

“Can you ride?” asked Belinda.

“I came here on horseback. My steed is now in the stables being looked after by your very capable groom.”

“We have ponies, don’t we, Lucie?” said Belinda.

Lucie nodded.

“Would you like to see us jump?” went on Belinda. “We go very high now.”

“Oh really, Belinda,” I said with a laugh. “Mr. Gerson won’t have time for that.”