I said: "Do you think Aunt Amaryllis is doing a little matchmaking?"
"That could well be," answered my mother.
Grace arrived. She had always had a look of distinction although she was not what could be called handsome, beautiful or even pretty. But she was certainly soignée and elegant.
Jack drove to the station to meet her and I was with him.
She was effusively affectionate.
"It is just wonderful to see you, Angelet," she said. "And I can't wait to see Rebecca."
"She calls herself Becca," I told her. "I suppose Rebecca was a little difficult for her to pronounce."
"Becca. I like that. It is more unusual. I expect your child to be unusual, Angelet. You are rather, yourself, you know."
"If that is a compliment, thanks."
"It is wonderful to be here again. I shall never forget all that your family have done for me."
"It is your family now," I said. "You married into it and before that you seemed to be a member of it."
"It's like coming home."
My mother greeted her with pleasure.
"Do you remember how you used to make our dresses? I shall be tempted to make use of you while you are here."
"I should love that," declared Grace. "It would make me feel so much at home."
"You must feel that all the time," said my mother.
Grace was impressed with Rebecca's beauty, charm and intelligence, which endeared her further to me. Rebecca liked her, too.
It was wonderful to have news from London.
"In our circle," she told us, "it is politics all the time. There was a great to-do when Palmerston died. We never thought he'd go. There he was past eighty ... and no one would have guessed it. He was jaunty till the end. People used to pause outside Cambridge House in Piccadilly to see him come out in his natty clothes and ride his gray horse out to the Row. The people all loved the old sinner. He always had an eye for the women right till the last. It was just the sort of thing to appeal to them. He was Good Old Pam to the end. He remained witty and when he was dying he was supposed to have said, 'Die? Me? That's the last thing I shall do!' The Queen was upset, though he was never a favorite of hers. John Russell had to step in ... but not for long. Once Pam had gone the Liberals were out of favor and Lord Derby is back now. That is good for Matthew, of course."
"Politics," said my mother, "is an uneasy game. One is in one day and out the next."
"That is what makes it so exciting," said Grace.
"We hear quite a bit ... even down here ... of Benjamin Disraeli."
"Oh yes, the coming man," said Grace. "Perhaps not coming though. He's arrived. We shall be hearing a great deal about him. He has somehow managed to charm the Queen which is amazing. One would hardly have thought she would have approved of those dyed greasy black curls."
"The Prince Consort would have been most displeased I imagine," I said.
"How is she getting on after his death?" asked my father.
I saw my mother flash a glance at him. She meant, Don't talk of dead husbands in front of Angelet.
He saw the point at once and looked abashed.
"It seems that she revels in her mourning," said Grace and changed the subject.
Rebecca had shown a fondness for one of the parlormaids. She was young and quite clearly had a way with children. Her name was Annie.
My mother had said that she thought Annie might help to look after Rebecca until we came to a decision about a nanny. We had not yet asked Nanny Crossley to return. I remembered her—excellent at her job but a little domineering in the nursery; and I wanted no one to take my daughter from me.
It seemed, therefore, an ideal arrangement that Annie should help, particularly as Rebecca had taken a fancy to her.
I shall never forget that afternoon. During it I experienced some of the most harrowing hours I have ever known.
Grace and I had gone for a ride. Grace wanted to go up to the moors. It was beautiful up there at this time of the year. The gorse was plentiful and the air so pure.
Annie was looking after Rebecca and had said she would take her for a little walk.
When Grace and I returned to the house it was to find it in a tumult. When I heard what had happened, I was cold with fear. Rebecca was lost.
"Lost!" I screamed. "What do you mean?"
Annie was in tears. They had been walking along laughing and talking when Annie suddenly tripped over a stone. She had gone down flat on her head. She showed us her arms which were grazed and had bled a little.
"It knocked me out for a bit," she said, "and when I come to ... she'd gone."
"Where?" I cried.
My mother put her arm round me. "They're out looking for her. She can't have gone far."
"How long ago did this happen?"
"An hour or so ..."
"Where? Where?"
"Along the road ... not far from Cherry Cottage."
"They are looking there," said my mother. "They are looking everywhere."
Grace said: "We will go and look. Come on, Angelet. She can't have wandered far."
"All alone! She's only a baby."
"She's very bright. She'll probably find her way home."
"That's what we thought," said my mother. "That's why I'm waiting here."
"Come along," said Grace.
"Yes, you go," added my mother. "She'll be here soon ... Don't worry."
We rode off towards Cherry Cottage. On the way I saw my father. He gave me a look of despair. I felt sick with fear.
"We're going on," I said.
"We have been up there. No sign ..."
"Never mind," said Grace. "We'll look again."
So we went on and with every moment my fear increased. Hundreds of images crowded into my mind. Where could she have gone? She had never been told not to wander off, simply because she had never been out on her own.
Suppose someone had taken her. Gypsies? There were none in the neighborhood. And then the fear struck me. The pool!
I said to Grace: "Turn here."
"Where are you going?"
I murmured, "The pool ..."
"The pool!" she echoed and I heard the fear in her voice.
She did not speak. My horse broke into a canter. We had turned off the road and there was the pool ... glittering, evil. I walked my horse down to the edge and there, as though mocking me, was a little blue silk bag. It was on a gilt frame and had a chain handle. I recognized it. It had been one of the presents on the Christmas tree. Rebecca had received it and she took it everywhere with her.
I cannot describe my terror as I held that little purse in my hands.
I looked at the pool. It was retribution, I thought hysterically. We had hidden the body of the man here ... and now it had taken my child.
I think I would have waded in, but Grace restrained me.
"What's this?" she said.
"It's Rebecca's purse."
"Are you sure?"
I nodded. "I know it well. It can only mean ..."
I looked at those dark sinister waters.
Grace said: "Let's get back to the house quickly. We'll tell them what we've found."
"Becca," I called senselessly. "Come to me, Becca."
My voice echoed mockingly it seemed through the willows which hung over the pool ... the weeping willows, I thought, weeping for Rebecca.
But Grace was right. There was nothing we could do. We must get help. They could drag the pool, but whatever they did it would be too late.
I was dazed. I heard Grace explaining. There was consternation. My father went off, several of the men with him. I heard them talking. They were going to drag the pool.