“Well, naturally she would want to get to know her prospective daughter-in-law.”
“I rather like Sir Horace.”
“Yes, he resembles Gervaise.”
“I saw that and it endeared him to me.”
“It’s going to be amusing. The daughter looks as if she could be fun. The brothers are rather serious. I imagine they take after their mother. I shall invite them to Cador, of course.”
“When?” I asked.
“It all depends when the wedding will be. I suppose that is something we shall decide while we are here.”
“I thought I was here on approval.”
“Then don’t. I have an idea that Gervaise is the sort of young man who will make up his own mind without seeking advice; and he has already done that.”
“What does Father think of him?”
“Much the same as I do. He’s interested in the second son … rather naturally because he is in the law … as your father was when he started out.”
“Well, we shall see how it goes.”
“Not nervous now?”
“No. Though I should like to make a good impression. I am sure Gervaise would be happy if I did.”
“All you have to do is be yourself … and you will.”
In the dining room the whole family were assembled. I was seated beside Sir Horace. Lady Mandeville was at the other end of the table with my father next to her. Conversation was mostly about the house, and when we described Cador to them, they were very interested.
They had arranged one or two dinner parties so that we could meet the family’s friends who lived in the neighborhood; and they were pleased to hear that I enjoyed riding.
Once or twice I caught Marian’s eye across the table. I could almost imagine that she winked at me. My father talked about some of the old customs of Cornwall and they were very interested in these.
“We are not so imaginative here in Derbyshire,” said Sir Horace. “I do not think we would accept the story of those little people finding gold in a tin mine.”
“I would say we were more realistic,” put in Lady Mandeville.
My mother told them the story of the Bells of St Branok to which they listened with the utmost skepticism, but which sent shivers through me; and I wished that subject had not been brought up.
“Cornwall must be quite different from the rest of England,” said Lady Mandeville.
“Oh, it is,” declared my mother. “I am only half Cornish … through my father, and Rolf … well, he is what is called a foreigner there. You are right when you say it is different. I hope you will visit it and see for yourselves.”
They all declared they would be delighted to do so.
“Tomorrow,” said Lady Mandeville, “I shall show you the house … if you wish to see it; and I will tell you some of the tales which have been handed down to us. We have had our adventures. The Wars of the Roses … the Great Rebellion … but all perfectly natural. As I say, we are a down-to-earth people here.”
“It will be most fascinating,” said my mother.
Then we chatted about the past and the eldest son, William, talked of the estate, and the young one in an aside to my father about the changes in law over the last few years; and the evening passed pleasantly.
I felt the worst of the ordeal was over.
I was right. After the first two days when I thought I was on trial, I began to enjoy the visit. I was falling more and more in love with Gervaise every day. I began to form a friendship with Marian; the fact that she was about a year younger than I was made me feel like an elder sister. And as I had always wanted to be a sister—preferably an elder one—I felt very contented.
I found the house very attractive but was secretly glad that Gervaise and I would not be living in it. Gervaise said he would like to live in London. He had never been exactly a country boy—unlike his brothers.
Henry would have a practice in law and might well go to London, possibly Derby or some big city; William would run the estate with his father; and Marian would have a season next year and then presumably marry.
We rode together; we attended the dinner parties which had been arranged, and the neighbors came and inspected me as Gervaise’s future wife. It was all according to convention. I had done just what was expected of a young girl, and had done it rather successfully. I had had my season and before it was over I was engaged to be married to the approval of both our families. All that had to follow now was the wedding.
My father and Sir Horace talked of settlements of which I did not want to hear for they seemed mercenary to me. Lady Mandeville and my mother talked about the wedding, which would, of course, take place at Cador.
The Mandevilles would travel to Cornwall then; they would not come before as it was such a long journey; but the two families had this excellent opportunity of exchanging views on the subject now.
Both sides agreed that there should be no undue delay. This meant that the Mandevilles had put their seal upon the matter.
Marian and I were a good deal together. We had quite a lot in common besides our age. I had just been presented; she soon would be; she wanted to hear all about it.
I told her of the dancing classes, the curtsies which had to be practiced endlessly, the brief moment with the Queen … and then the season.
“And the whole thing is arranged to get us married,” she said. “Well, it worked with you.”
“I had a good start. I knew Gervaise before, when he came down to Cornwall to dig. He was a friend of my cousin who was killed in the Crimea.”
“Yes, I know. I heard. The family thought Gervaise might take up archaeology then. He seemed really keen … but he dropped it, of course.”
“Why do you say ‘of course’ like that?”
“Well, he never wants to do anything for long … except racing. I reckon he’ll get his own stables, one day. It’s the thing he’s really keen on.”
“Yes,” I said. “I know.”
“The family don’t like it … not after what happened to great-great and probably a lot more greats grandfather Sir Elmore. He gambled the family estate away. You’ll see him in the gallery. I’ll show him to you. Ever since that happened the family have been terrified of the horses.”
“Ah,” I said, “skeletons in the cupboard?”
“We have a few. I expect most people have. You too …?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“It’s rather fun getting them out and having a look at them. We ought to do that more often. It can be a lesson to us all.”
“You must show me the reckless Sir Elmore, one day.”
“I will. I expect you like the horses too.”
“I like riding them.”
“I didn’t mean horses. I meant the horses … which means gambling on them.”
“I’ve never gambled. I don’t have the urge to.”
“Then you will keep Gervaise on an even keel, as they say. Don’t give him any rein … that’s apt … or he’ll be galloping off which he can do rather recklessly. Papa has had to bail him out once or twice. Oh, I am sorry. I’m upsetting your rose-colored picture of him. Don’t take any notice. My brother Gervaise is the nicest person in the whole world. I love him dearly. If I wasn’t his sister and he weren’t engaged to you I’d want to marry him. He has the sweetest nature. I’m sure I shall never find anyone half as nice.”
“I know.”
“He’s much nicer than my other brothers. They are steady as rocks. … But Gervaise is the one for me.”
“I feel that too,” I told her.
“I’m glad you are going to marry him. We all think it is most suitable.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“And what is nice is your people like Gervaise, too.”
“They think he is charming.”
“So it is the ideal match. … I wonder what will happen to me when I come out.”