"You do love me?" he said. "Don't you…
Don't you?"
Henry decided against taking a house for the season in London that year. For one thing, both doctors, the new man and old Uncle Willie, said that it would be too much for Katherine. And the other reason was that Henry wished to superintend the work upon the castle. For his secret, announced to the family during the celebrations in March, was no more than this, that he had been in consultation with a well-known architect, who, at his request, had drawn up plans for an entire new front to the castle.
"How my father and all the aunts ever crammed into the rooms cannot imagine," he said. "Aunt Eliza has told me that they never could invite people to stay in my grandfather's time"
He smiled down at his wife, unrolling the plan the architect had given him, as excited as a child with a new toy.
"Now admit, dearest," he said, "that this new wing, where you and I and our guests shall live, is really very imposing."
Katherine smiled, and took the plan in her hands.
"It's like a palace," she said. "What are we going to do with all those rooms?"
"Don't you think the idea of a grand entrance hall is rather fine?" he said eagerly. "I've always felt rather ashamed of our small hall, scarcely more than a passage, when I've been to Andriff and other places. What about this staircase? Magnificent, isn't it? Of course, I shall buy some really good pictures for the gallery. We'll go out to Florence and Rome next winter, and really spread ourselves.
Now this is what will please you most. Look, the boudoir, all for you, between our bedroom and the spare room on the corner. And the little balcony leading from it, over the big front door. Here is my dressing-room, facing the woods. But tell me that you like the boudoir? It was my idea entirely."
Katherine lifted her hand and touched his cheek.
"Of course I like it," she said. "It's quite true, I've always wanted a little room of my own, where I can write my letters and not be disturbed."
"And you will have such a view," he said excitedly, "the best view in the castle, right away across the creek to Hungry Hill. You see, dear one, if you are not feeling strong your breakfast can be brought to you in the boudoir, and you will only have to walk through from your bedroom. These new rooms will have the sun the whole day long. At the moment we lose it, in winter, almost directly after luncheon. I dare say that is why you often look so pale."
He rolled the parchment back and drew forth another, more technical, showing the construction of the new roof and the chimneys.
"This won't interest you so much," he said, "but I like the way he introduces the little turrets and towers. They are like the pictures of the chateaux on the Loire."
Katherine watched him from her sofa. He was so eager, so impulsive. This rebuilding of the castle would fill his thoughts for the coming months to the exclusion of everything else. She was glad of it, for that reason only. It would mean he would not have the time to worry about her…
"And how long is it all going to take?" she asked.
"Just under a year before everything is finished," he said. "It means workmen about the place for a long time, I'm afraid. You won't mind, will you? Or would you rather we went across and spent the summer with Aunt Eliza in Lletharrog? The doctors couldn't object to that."
"No," said Katherine, "no, I don't want to leave Clonmere again."
Then the children came in, and the plans had to be brought out once more.
"It will be like a real fairy-tale castle," said Molly, with all her father's enthusiasm. "Look, Kitty, you and I won't have to share a bedroom any more. We shall have mamma's present room as our schoolroom. And Miss Frost has father's dressing-room as a bedroom."
This struck them as highly amusing, and they went into peals of laughter.
"What room do I have?" asked Hal. "Can I have the room in the tower?"
"I was thinking of putting one of the servants there," said Henry, "but you are welcome to it, my lad, if you want it. I believe my father used to sleep there as a boy."
"I like it," said Hal; "it's the nicest room in the house. I shall do my painting up there. Why are we having a new day and night nursery? Now Kitty does lessons with Miss Frost she can eat with us in the schoolroom, can't she?"
Henry looked across at Katherine. Her head was bent over her needlework.
"You might have another little sister or brother one day," she said.
"Oh," said Hal.
He was not particularly interested; At any rate, at ten a nurse would have no power over him; that was one good thing. He was too old for any nursery. He leant with his chin in his hands, poring over the new plans. Yes, the old room in the tower would suit him very well. He would find a key and lock himself in, so that Miss Frost could not come and find him. He would make paintings, really large ones, and pin them on the wall, as artists did…
The workmen began on the foundations directly after Easter, and during the long, lovely summer of 1870 there was the ceaseless sound of hammering and knocking at Clonmere. Scaffolding hid the old house, and pillars, and girders. There were ladders everywhere, and heaps of stone and plaster. As the new block of the castle took shape it dwarfed the original building, which before had seemed square and stolid. The rooms lost the sun even sooner than before, because the new block jutted forward, taking all the sun that came.
"You can see," said Henry, "how much better we shall be in the new house. The rooms will be double the size, and so lofty. Already I feel cramped and restless in this old part of the house. I wish they would get on with the work faster."
The children were fascinated by the progress of the building. They chased one another in and out of the rooms that had as yet no ceilings, and only half a wall, while their governess Miss Frost searched for them in vain, only to discover Molly seated at the top of a high ladder, in imminent danger of breaking her neck, or Kitty, with face and hands covered in earth, crawling from the depths of the new cellars.
Hal would watch the mixing of the cement, and dabble his hands in the wet mass of clay. And day after day Henry would walk down in the middle of the morning with the architect, who would come to Clonmere perhaps for a fortnight at a time to see how things were going, and the two men would discuss the great chimney that was inclined to spoil the appearance of the new block from the front, or the distance between two windows, or the exact height of the future front door, Henry with his head on one side and his hands in his pockets, the architect scribbling figures on a piece of paper.
Suddenly there would be too many people for Hal, and he would run up through the woods to the old summer-house, where his mother would be resting. She did not walk about much these days, she was always resting. She must have felt that he was there, because she turned her head and smiled at him.
"I rather thought there was a little boy looking at me," she said.
He came forward, and sat down on the chair beside her.
"I've made you a painting," he said, feeling in his pocket. "It's of the creek, on a very rough day."
He presented a grubby piece of paper, watching her eyes for approval with great anxiety.
It was the usual child's drawing, trees and creek all out of proportion, and the waves a nightmare size, while rain, like ink, fell from a thundercloud.
There was something about it, though, that was not pure childish effort. One tree, bent in the wind, that had life, and the colour of the sky.
"Thank you," said Katherine. "I am very pleased with it."
"Is it good?" said Hal. "If it's not truly good I shall tear it up."