My mother welcomed her warmly. She had always been fond of Grace and regarded her as a member of the family.
At dinner, Grace talked about the Mission. She had been there once or twice and was greatly impressed by the work which was being done.
"Well, you know what I'm talking about, Angelet," she said. "There is that wonderful story of Fanny. I asked Timothy Ransome if I could go down and see her."
"And did you?" I asked.
"Yes, I did. What a lovely family! Fanny is settling in. She was quite sociable, which I gather is something she has learned there. She asked after you. She told me how you and Timothy came and took her away. She seems fond of you ... and Timothy ... and the children, of course. Don't you think that is a wonderful thing to have done?" she added turning to my parents. "And that is just one case."
My mother said it was indeed wonderful.
"I gather you are doing the books," I said.
She laughed. "What a mess they were in! Frances is magnificent ... but accounts are not her line ... and with all the donations coming in and the bills that have to be paid ... Well, it does seem to be a line of work which nobody wants to undertake."
"It's the less glamorous side of the business, I suppose," said my father.
"But very necessary," put in my mother. "So what is happening, Grace? Are you giving them temporary assistance?"
"I've found it useful to have something to do. It won't be figures all the time ... once I've straightened out the books. I should like to do a little bit of social work, too. I think I shall be there quite frequently."
"Frances wants all the helpers she can get," I said.
She smiled at me. There was a certain glitter in her eyes. Or did I imagine that? I could not get the picture of her out of my mind ... going into Lizzie's bedroom ... I saw Lizzie drowsy from a laudanum-induced sleep. I seemed to hear Grace's voice. "Can't you sleep, Lizzie? You must. You need to be fresh for tomorrow ... There is a great deal to do ... Here, another few drops won't do any harm."
Could Justin have been right?
And Lizzie had been in the way. And now ... so was I.
I wanted to think of everything that had happened.
I rode out alone. Memories of the past crowded into my mind and when I remembered the past there was one incident which must always be there. The encounter by the pool ... a child murdered ... and Ben, younger than he was now ... a little uncertain ... acting in such a way as was to affect the rest of our lives. I could not help it. I found myself making my way to the pool. There was the cottage where crazy Jenny Stubbs had held Rebecca captive not so long ago. I was thinking of the dragging of the pool, the discovery of the watch and the remains of the man whom Ben and I had thrown in all those years ago.
Violence had come into our quiet lives and it had had an effect on me which was never forgotten.
I slipped off my horse and tied him to the bush just as I had on that other occasion. It was quiet ... no sound at all but a sudden sighing of a gentle breeze in the weeping willows trailing into the water.
Thus it had been on that fateful day. There was the spot where he had come upon me—the piece of wall exposed now as it had not been on that day before Gervaise and Jonnie had done their excavating; and Jonnie and Gervaise now both dead.
There was so much to remind me.
The eeriness seemed to surround me. I should not have been surprised if I heard the bells—not Jenny Stubbs's bells but the real ones—or the fantasy ones perhaps I should say—and perhaps the sound of monks' singing as they went into their ghostly underground chapel to pray.
I stood by the pool. It looked swollen. There had been a good deal of rain recently, and as the ground about it was flat it had advanced at least a foot.
No sound at all. Nothing but memories and the feeling that here anything might happen.
Someone was coming towards me. I saw that it was Grace. She walked purposefully.
"Hello, Angelet. I guessed you'd be here. Two minds with one thought. I want to talk to you alone. It's why I have come to Cornwall really."
She came and stood very close to me. The ground was slippery. I was aware of her ... very near to me.
"This pool fascinates you," she said. "It's because of what happened."
"Yes," I agreed.
"You've never forgotten. How could you, after what you did with Ben's help?"
I said: "I believe you know a great deal about that man."
"Yes," she answered. "I want to talk to you about it."
"Why to me?"
"Because it concerns you. I knew Mervyn Duncarry. He was a tutor in a house where I was a governess."
"Perhaps I should tell you that I know that."
"Through Justin? I thought he would tell you. He is the reformed character now. Who would have believed it? And he wants to protect you. I know Justin. I know how his mind works. I know how yours works, too, Angelet."
"I should like to know how yours does," I retorted.
"I believe you are afraid of me. There is no need to be."
"What should I be afraid of?"
"That is what you have to tell me. I've just come here to talk to you. I told you that is why I have come to Cornwall. I don't know what is going on in your mind, but I am sure that whatever you are thinking is wrong."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because there is something you have to know and I am going to tell you. I'm fond of you, Angelet. I'm fond of your family. I remember what they did for me. I don't know what would have happened to me but for them. Let me tell you all about it. Imagine a rather frightened young woman who suddenly has to go out and earn her living. I had looked after my mother for many years. My father had died and from then on I had cared for her. My parents had educated me well and I was said to be clever, so when she died and there was only a small income left to me I had to become a governess. I went to a house where there were two children— a girl and a boy. There was a tutor for the boy and a girl for me."
"I know that," I told her.
"I fell in love with the tutor. He was charming but there was this flaw in his character. It was like two personalities. There are people like that. They can be cured ... with the right treatment, I believe. One night he went out and killed a girl."
"He was the murderer," I said.
"I loved him. I wanted to help him. You can understand that, I know. I visited him in prison. We planned to escape together. He chose a place near the sea where I would stay until he was ready to go. That's why I came to this neighborhood. I stayed at that inn for a few nights, but I wanted to save as much money as I could for we should need it ... so I decided to find a sort of post ... where I need not spend money and that's why I came to you. I went to see him in jail. I smuggled in the knife he asked for ..."
"But you knew he could kill again."
"I was desperately in love with this man. In spite of everything I wanted our future to be together. I believed I could take him away ... right out of this country. I believed I could cure him. You see, it was because I refused him that he went out and did that dreadful thing. I had left clothes for him in a broken-down old hut on the moor. I put the watch there with the clothes. It had belonged to my father and I had scratched our initials on it. It was meant to be a sign that I was with him whatever happened. Then he met you."
"And he tried to murder me."
"I could have cured him. I was sure of it. I cannot tell you what I suffered. I thought he had deserted me. If I had known that he was lying at the bottom of the pool I could have borne it more easily. You lied. You said you found the ring near the boathouse. The boat was missing."
"I remember. We gave it to one of the fisher boys."
"I thought he had escaped without me and that I had helped him to do that. That was the most unhappy time of my life. I was so bitter ... so angry."