I loved the story and asked to have it repeated many times.
It was almost immediately after that incident that Polly came.
Whenever I saw Fabian—usually in the distance—I would look at him furtively, and in my mind's eye see him tenderly caring for me. It was so amusing; it always made me laugh.
I fancied, too, that he looked at me in a rather special way, although he always pretended he did not see me.
Because of our standing in the village—the rector was on a level with the doctor and the solicitor, though of course chasms separated us from the heights on which the Framlings dwelt—as I began to grow older I was invited to have tea now and then with Miss Lavinia.
Although I did not exactly enjoy these occasions, I was always excited to go into the house. Before those little tea parties I knew very little of it. I had only seen the hall because it had rained once or twice when the garden fete was in progress and we were allowed to shelter from the rain in the House. I shall always remember the thrill of leaving the hall and mounting the stairs, past the suit of armour, which I imagined would be quite terrifying after dark. I was sure it was alive and that when our backs were turned it was laughing at us.
Lavinia was haughty, overbearing, and very beautiful. She reminded me of a tigress. She had tawny hair and golden lights in her green eyes; her upper lip was short and her beautiful white teeth slightly prominent; her nose was small and very slightly turned up at the tip, which gave a piquancy to her face. But her glory was in her wonderful, abundant curly hair. Yes, she was very attractive.
The first time I went to have tea with her stands out in my mind. Miss York accompanied me. Miss Etherton, Lavinia's governess, greeted us and there was an immediate rapport between her and Miss York.
We were taken to tea in the schoolroom, which was large with panelled walls and latticed windows. There were big cupboards there, which I guessed contained slates and pencils and perhaps books. There was a long table at which generations of Framlings must have learned their lessons.
Lavinia and I regarded each other with a certain amount of hostility. Polly had primed me before I left. "Don't forget, you're as good as she is. Better, I reckon." So with Polly's words ringing in my ears, I faced her more as an adversary than as a friend.
"We'll have tea in the schoolroom," said Miss Etherton, "and then you two can get to know each other." She smiled at Miss York in an almost conspiratorial manner. It was clear that those two would like a little respite from their charges.
Lavinia took me to a window seat and we sat down.
"You live in that awful old rectory," she said. "Ugh."
"It's very nice," I told her.
"It's not like this."
"It doesn't have to be nice."
Lavinia looked shocked that I had contradicted her and I felt that ours was not going to be the easy relationship which that between Miss York and Miss Etherton showed signs of becoming.
"What games do you play?" she asked.
"Oh ... guessing games, with Polly, my nurse, and with Miss York we sometimes imagine we are taking a journey through the world and mention all the places we should pass through."
"What a dull game!"
"It's not."
"Oh yes it is," she affirmed as though that were the last word to be said on the matter.
The tea arrived, brought in by a maid in starched cap and apron. Lavinia dashed to the table.
"Don't forget your guest," said Miss Etherton. "Drusilla, will you sit here?"
There was bread and butter with strawberry jam and little cakes with coloured icing on them.
Miss York was watching me. Bread and butter first. It was impolite to have cakes before that. But Lavinia did not observe the rules. She took one of the cakes. Miss Etherton looked apologetically at Miss York, who pretended not to notice. When I had eaten my piece of bread and butter I was offered one of the cakes. I took one with blue icing on it.
"It's the last of the blue ones," announced Lavinia. "I wanted that."
"Lavinia!" said Miss Etherton.
Lavinia took no notice. She regarded me, expecting me, I knew, to give the cake to her. Remembering Polly, I did not. I deliberated, picked it up from my plate and bit into it.
Miss Etherton lifted her shoulders and looked at Miss York.
It was an uncomfortable teatime.
I believe both Miss York and Miss Etherton were greatly relieved when it was over and we were despatched to play, leaving the two governesses together.
I followed Lavinia, who told me we were going to play hide and seek. She took a penny from her pocket and said: "We'll toss." I had no idea what she meant. "Choose heads or tails," she said.
I chose heads.
She spun the coin and it landed on the palm of her hands. She held it where I could not see it and said, "I've won. That means I choose. You'll hide and I'll seek. Go on. I'll count to ten ..."
"Where ..." I began.
"Anywhere ..."
"But this house is so big ... I don't know."
"Course it's big. It's not that silly little rectory." She gave me a push. "You'd better go on. I'm starting to count now."
Of course she was Miss Lavinia of the Big House. She was a year older than I. She seemed very knowledgeable and sophisticated; and I was a guest. Miss York had told me that guests often had to be uncomfortable and do things they would rather not. It was all part of the duty of being a guest.
I went out of the room leaving Lavinia counting ominously. Three, four, five ... It sounded like the tolling of the funeral bell.
I hurried on. The house seemed to be laughing at me. How could I possibly hide in a house of whose geography I was ignorant?
For a few moments I went blindly on. I came to a door and opened it. I was in a small room. There were some chairs, the seatbacks of which had been worked in blue and yellow needlepoint. It was the ceiling that attracted my attention; it was painted and there were little fat cupids up there seated on clouds. There was another door in this room. I went through it and I was in a passage.
There was no place to hide there. What should I do? I wondered. Perhaps make my way to the schoolroom, find Miss York and tell her I wanted to go home. I wished Polly had come with me. She would never have left me to the mercy of Miss Lavinia.
I must try to retrace my steps. I turned and went, as I thought, back. I came to a door, expecting to see the fat cupids on the ceiling, but this was not so. I was in a long gallery, the walls of which were lined with pictures. There was a dais at one end on which stood a harpsichord and gilded chairs.
I looked fearfully at the portraits. They seemed like real people regarding me severely for having trespassed into their domain.
I felt the house was jeering at me and I wanted Polly. I was getting near to panic. I had the uneasy notion that I was caught and never going to get away. I was going to spend the rest of my life wandering about the house trying to find my way out.
There was a door at one end of the gallery. I went through this and was in another long passage. I was facing a flight of stairs. It was either a matter of going on or going back to the gallery. I mounted the stairs; there was another passage and then ... a door.
Recklessly I opened this. I was in a small dark room. In spite of mounting fears I was fascinated. There was something foreign about it. The curtains were of heavy brocade and there was a strange smell. I learned afterwards that it was sandalwood. There were brass ornaments on carved wooden tables. It was an exciting room and for a moment I forgot my fears. There was a fireplace and on the mantel shelf a fan. It was very beautiful, in a lovely shade of blue with big black spots. I knew what it was, because I had seen pictures of peacocks. It was a fan made of peacock feathers. I felt an urge to touch it. I could just reach it by standing on tiptoe. The feathers were very soft.