“That would be fun. I wonder what your grandfather would say about it.”
“He would probably like the idea and I am sure my grandmother would.”
“It would make us feel that we were almost there.”
“I tell you what we’ll do. We’ll start looking. Next week-end we’ll begin in earnest. How’s that?”
“It’s a marvelous idea.”
“It will have to be in the vicinity of the mine.”
“It looks as if we may have to build.”
“Yes … something in between the families. We want to please both sides.”
“They would appreciate it if we were half way. We’ll start looking now.”
The search added zest to the day.
We stopped at an inn—a charming old place called The King’s Head. There was a picture on the old sign, of Charles II, saturnine in spite of a certain lustful look and a luxuriously curly wig. We went into the parlor with its oak beams, leaded windows and great open fireplace round which sparkling horse brasses were displayed.
We drank cider from pewter pots and ate cheese with hot bread straight from the oven.
We talked of the house we would have. I saw it materialize before my eyes—the hall, the wide staircase, the rooms upstairs, and I realized I was creating a place which was something between Cador and Pencarron Manor.
“You wouldn’t like a Victorian house,” said Pedrek. “Your heart is in the past.”
“I’ll tell you something,” I said. “I wouldn’t mind what period it was as long as we were in it together.”
On the way back we looked for likely sites and inspected them critically.
“It would be very open here. Imagine the southwest gales.”
“And wouldn’t it be lonely?”
“Not with servants. Lucie will be there. Oh, Pedrek, what about Belinda?”
“She can come, too.”
“She’ll have to be with her father. He will insist. He has to preserve the family atmosphere.”
“She can come and stay with us.”
“I don’t know how she and Lucie will feel about being apart.”
“Are they such good friends?”
“Not exactly. I think they have become a habit to each other. They quarrel of course as all children do … but I don’t think they would like to be separated.”
“They’ll get used to it.”
“I wonder what my stepfather will say. He is supposed to be my guardian, you know.”
“I shall be your guardian soon.”
“I am not sure I like this talk of guardians. I like to think I am my own. But there is a point. I should have to get his consent, I suppose.”
“We’ll get married first and tell him afterwards.”
We agreed that that was a good idea; but it did not answer the question of how the girls would feel to be separated.
They would be a year older then. They seemed so knowledgeable sometimes that I forgot how young they were. But I suppose most children are aware of what is going on. They have sharp enquiring minds; all they lack is the experience which comes through living.
Pedrek came back with me to Cador.
The girls dashed out to welcome me home and they both flung themselves at me. Belinda first … Lucie in her turn. It was comforting to receive such a welcome.
“We’ve been riding this afternoon. Then we went for a walk with Leah … to the pool.”
“I suppose you did,” I said. I turned to Pedrek. “It’s one of their favorite places.”
“Well, it does have an air of mystery.”
“All those legends … bells and monks,” I said.
“And other things,” added Belinda.
“What things?” I asked.
“Other things,” she repeated, smiling mysteriously.
My grandmother came into the room. “Oh, you’re back. Good. Had a pleasant day?”
We assured her we had had a wonderful day.
Pedrek stayed to dine which was served a little earlier on Saturdays so that he would not be too late getting back to Pencarron.
We talked to my grandparents about our search for a suitable site on which to build our future home.
“Well, did you decide?”
“Not really. We’ll look further next week, won’t we, Pedrek?”
“Talking of houses,” said my grandfather, “I saw the people at High Tor this afternoon. They’re leaving.”
“Are they? After all this time?”
“Yes. The son is coming home from Germany. He’s been living there for some years. He says he fancies getting a place in Dorset and … I’ve forgotten what their name is.”
“Stenning,” supplied my grandmother.
“That’s right. Stenning. Well, he said they will be getting a place there to be near the son. They rented High Tor because they didn’t want to commit themselves to buying before their son came home.”
“That means High Tor will either be to let or for sale,” said my grandmother looking at me.
I glanced at Pedrek.
“High Tor,” I murmured. “It’s a nice place.”
“And ancient,” added Pedrek.
“Well,” added my grandmother. “It’s an idea. I daresay it will be some time before the Stennings are ready to leave, but … as I said … it’s an idea.”
High Tor had taken possession of my thoughts and the next Saturday Pedrek and I rode out there. It looked different from what it had before. I suppose that was because there was a possibility that it might one day be our house.
“Do you think,” said Pedrek, “that we might call on the Stennings?”
“Why not? They may not know us well but they know who we are.”
“Let’s go then,” said Pedrek.
So we rode in through the cobbled courtyard under the archway to the oak iron-studded door.
A servant came out, and Pedrek asked if Mr. or Mrs. Stenning were at home.
Mrs. Stenning came down. She was a little surprised but extremely hospitable and soon we were seated in the drawing room. We told her that we had heard that she and her husband were contemplating leaving High Tor to settle in Dorset and as we planned to marry in a year’s time we were interested in the house.
She opened her eyes wide and said: “What a good idea! I don’t know whether the owners want to sell or rent it … but I could find out. You probably know them.”
“Very well,” I said. “My stepfather is married to the lady who was Miss Celeste Bourdon.”
“Of course. Well, that is interesting. We shall be leaving fairly soon. We are taking a house in Dorchester and there we shall stay until we find a suitable property. This is a very interesting house, this. We shall be sorry to leave it. Most of the furniture is ours though the Bourdons did leave one or two pieces. But in any case you would want your own. Would you like to see over it?”
We spent an interesting hour being taken round. The house had been built in the late sixteenth or early seventeenth century. I liked the gables with their pediments and the casements and leaded lights.
Mr. Stenning joined us and he was quite knowledgeable about architecture. He said he thought the house was in the style of the Inigo Jones period and the architects had learned a great deal from him.
“He went to Italy and studied the buildings there. You can detect the influence of that.”
I was not interested so much in the architecture. I was just seeing it as our future home.
The Stennings insisted that we take tea with them and this we did in the drawing room with its gracious proportions and casement windows. It was indeed a beautiful house.
We talked of it incessantly and could hardly wait to get back to Cador and tell my grandparents about it.
They were as thrilled as we were.
“It would be ideal for you,” said my grandfather. “I daresay we shall soon hear what the Bourdons intend to do.”
We became obsessed by the house. We talked of nothing else.