Lord of the Far Island Read online

  Esmeralda was a little bewildered; she disliked going anywhere without me, but I was rarely with her now except for those walks in the Park and the charity visits.

  The Carringtons loomed large in our lives. They were Cousin Agatha's closest friends. Lady Emily's name was mentioned twenty times a day.

  Philip was often a member of a family party and he, with Esmeralda, visited the theater with Cousin Agatha and Cousin William. The play was Lady Windermere's Fan, which had been produced for the first time in February at the St. James's Theatre. I had heard that although it was a light comedy it sparkled with wit and amusing epigrams. I guessed that Esmeralda would not see the point of it.

  I watched them leave in the carriage and I saw them come back. When Esmeralda came up I waylaid her and made her tell me about the play. She gave me a brief outline of the plot and she said that Philip had laughed the whole way through. They had had supper afterwards and it had been very jolly. She looked quite pretty in a powder-blue gown and her blue velvet cloak. I longed for such a cloak, but most of all to go to the theater and laugh with Philip.

  The next day we walked in the Park with Nanny Grange, who was still with us. She would probably go with Esmeralda when she married to look after her children, for Cousin Agatha felt it was good to keep nannies in the family. One could then rely on their loyalty. Besides, all the best people did it.

  Now that we were older Nanny Grange always walked a few sedate paces behind us like a watchdog and if any young men came near us she would quicken her pace and be there abreast of us. It always amused me.

  That day we met Philip in the Park. He fell into stride beside us. This was quite legitimate and did not need Nanny's attention. He was after all a Carrington.

  Philip said accusingly to me: "Why didn't you come to the play last night?"

  "Nobody asked me," I replied.

  "You mean to say . . ." He stopped and looked at me. "No," he cried. "It can't be."

  "But it is. Didn't you know I was the Poor Relation?"

  "Oh, stop it, Ellen," wailed Esmeralda. "I can't bear you to talk like that."

  "Whether you can bear it or not, my dear," I said, "it's true."

  "When my parents return the visit to the theater I shall insist that you are included," Philip assured me.

  "That's nice of you, Philip," I said, "but I wouldn't come where I wasn't wanted."

  "Ass!" he said, and gave me a push just as he had when we were children.

  I felt very pleased because at least Philip didn't see me as the Poor Relation.

  There was going to be a grand dance. The folding doors of three rooms on the first floor were to be thrown open to make a fairly sizable ballroom which would be decorated with plants. It was in fact Esmeralda's coming-out ball. She was to have a very special gown in blue silk and lace. Tilly Parsons, the seamstress, thought it would take a week to make it. "All those tucks and frills, my word," she muttered.

  I was to be allowed to go to the ball and for this I, too, was to have a new ball dress. I dreamed of deep blue chiffon which would heighten the color of my eyes; I saw myself floating round the ballroom and everyone calling me the belle of the ball. Esmeralda wouldn't mind that, being Esmeralda. She was very good-natured really and she had no desire for the role. She hated calling attention to herself.

  Cousin Agatha sent for me. I might have known what it was about. After all, I was eighteen years old, and the threats which had haunted me all my childhood were not idle ones.

  "Ah, Ellen. You may sit down."

  I sat uneasily.

  "You will realize of course that you are now of an age to go out into the world. Naturally I have done my best to place you and my efforts are now being rewarded. I have the post for you at last."

  My heart started beating fast with apprehension.

  "Mrs. Oman Lemming . . . the Honorable Mrs. Oman Lemming ... is losing her governess in six months' time. I have spoken to her about you and she is willing to see you with the possibility of giving you the post."

  "Mrs. Oman Lemming ..." I stammered.

  "The Honorable Mrs. Oman Lemming. She is the daughter of Lord Pillingsworth. I have known her well all my life. I had thought it would not be good for you to be in a house which we might visit, but these are very special circumstances. You will have to be discreet and keep out of the way if we should be there. Mrs. Oman Lemming will understand the delicacy of the situation, she is such a friend of mine. I have begged her to take tea with me, which she will do next week. While she is here she will have an opportunity of looking at you, and I trust you will, Ellen, be mindful of your duty, for if you should fail to please her it could be very difficult to place you. Such posts do not grow on trees, you know."

  I was dumbfounded—quite unreasonably so. I had secretly never thought it would come to that. My absurd optimism would not let me believe it possible. But now here it was—my approaching doom. Six months away.

  Cousin Agatha, who had clearly expected me to express my gratitude, sighed and lifted her shoulders.

  "I should not wish you to go ill equipped and that brings me to the matter of your ball dress. I have chosen the material for you. Black is so serviceable and I am asking Tilly Parsons to make it in a style which will not date. There may be an occasion when you need such a dress. I should not like you to be without one."

  I knew the sort of dress it would be. Suitable for a middle-aged woman. It was in any case a dress which was expected to last into my maturity. I felt uneasy.

  When I met the Honorable Mrs. Oman Lemming my worst fears were realized.

  Like Cousin Agatha, she was a large woman with sweeping feathers in her hat and long tight gray kid gloves. A heavy gold chain descended the mountain of her bosom; a large brooch sparkled on her blouse. I could see a kindred spirit to Cousin Agatha, and my heart sank.

  "This is Ellen Kellaway," said Cousin Agatha.

  The Honorable Mrs. Oman Lemming raised her lorgnette and studied me. I don't think she was very delighted with what she saw.

  "She is very young," she commented. "But perhaps that is not a disadvantage."

  "It is so much easier to mold the young to our ways, Letty," said Cousin Agatha, and I thought how incongruous the name sounded for such a militant-looking female.

  "That's true, Agatha. But is she good with children?"

  "I have to admit that she has had little experience of them, but she has been brought up with Esmeralda and shared her education."

  The Honorable Mrs. Oman Lemming bowed her head like some all-knowing oracle. I noticed that her eyes were too closely set together, and her mouth when she studied me was thin and cold. I disliked her on sight and the thought of becoming a member of her household in a certain menial capacity gave me no pleasure.

  She turned to me then. "There are four children. Hester, the eldest, is fourteen; Claribel, eleven; James is eight and Henry, four. James will soon be going away to school and Henry will follow in due course. The girls will remain at home and it would be your duty—if I engage you—to teach them."

  "I am sure," said Cousin Agatha, "that you will not find Ellen lacking in scholastic knowledge. Our governess told me that she was brighter than average."

  Praise from Cousin Agatha for the first time in my life! But it only showed of course how eager she was to be rid of me.

  It was arranged that in five months' time, one month before the present governess was due to leave, I should enter the Oman Lemming household and be instructed by the departing governess into my duties.

  The thought depressed me more than I could say.

  When we walked in the Park, Philip joined us. It was becoming a habit. The three of us walked together ahead of Nanny Grange.

  "You look like thunder this morning," said Philip.

  For once I found it difficult to speak and it was Esmeralda who got in first. "It's this wretched governessing."

  "What?" cried Philip.

  "Oh, you wouldn't know, but Mama is finding a place for Ellen
. It's with the Honorable Mrs. Oman Lemming."

  "A place!" Philip stopped short to stare at me.

  "You always knew I'd have to go someday. It's time I earned a living. It seems I've been living on charity too long. Even members of the Family can't expect that forever."

  "You ... a governess!" Philip burst out laughing.

  "If you find it amusing, I don't," I said tersely.

  "The idea of your teaching! I could die of laughing."

  "Very well, die! To me it is no laughing matter."

  "Ellen really thinks something will turn up," said Esmeralda, "and so do I."

  "Perhaps it will," I replied. "If I'm going to be a governess I'd rather find my own post and it wouldn't be with Mrs. Oman Lemming, I can tell you."

  "Perhaps you'd find someone worse," soothed Esmeralda. "Do you remember old Miss Herron and that companion of hers?"

  "I do and I can't believe she's any worse than the Honorable O.L."

  "Never mind," said Philip, slipping his arm through mine, "I'll come and see you."

  "That's kind of you, Philip," said Esmeralda softly.

  "You'll forget all about me," I said angrily.

  He didn't answer but he continued to hold my arm.

  I became alarmed at the manner in which the days were flying past. There were sessions with Tilly Parsons while she fitted the ball dress. It was black, heavy velvet, and I had tussles with Tilly over the neckline. I wanted the dress low-cut and that was not according to Cousin Agatha's chosen pattern. By the time I had made Tilly pinch me in at the waist and recut the neckline the dress was slightly more presentable, but it was too old for me—as Cousin Agatha rightly said, it could be worn in twenty years' time and still be presentable because it had that one essential quality—it would never date. No, I had responded sharply, it had never had a date, that dress, and it never would have one, I imagined.

  Nanny Grange was sad. This was breaking up with her charges, the fate she said which came to all of her kind. "They come to you as babies, you do everything for them and then they grow up."

  "Well, Nanny," I said, "you don't expect them to stay children all their lives just so that you can carry out your duties."

  "It's sad," she retorted. "Time passes though. And when Miss Esmeralda gets her babies I'll go with her. And that, if I know anything about it, won't be so very long. Poor Miss Esmeralda, she'll need someone to look after her."

  It was through Rosie that I heard the gossip. She got it from her coachman.

  "Oh, there's been some conferences going on over there as well as here. My word, they're planning an early wedding. Young people are impatient, they say. I laughed to my Harry. 'Impatient!' I said. 'Why, my Miss Esmeralda don't know what she's got to be impatient about!'"

  "You mean they're planning Esmeralda's wedding?"

  "To Philip," whispered Rosie. "Of course they would have liked the other one for her."

  "You mean the elder brother."

  "That's him. That Rollo."

  "Why don't they try for him?"

  Rosie pressed her lips together to indicate that she knew something which she was longing to tell me but was well aware she shouldn't. I calculated that a little persuasion was going to be necessary and that if I worked hard and long enough I would eventually discover what it was. I did.

  "Well, it was about a year ago. . . . Such a to-do there was... in the family of course. Outside it was very secret. Oh, very."

  "What, Rosie, what?"

  "It was like this: Mr. Rollo got married . . . runaway match, they say. There was a lot of talk, all behind closed doors and the doors are thick oak in Park Lane, I can tell you."

  I nodded sympathetically. "But you did find out. . ."

  "Well, little things came out. They ran away together. . . elopement and all that. . . and the family not too pleased. Then Mr. Rollo persuaded them that it was all right and they all got reconciled. But we never saw her. That was what was odd. It was just said that Mr. Rollo was abroad with his wife. . . . Very funny it was, for she was never seen at the house. Then we found out why. . . ."

  "Why, Rosie?"

  "It seems there was something wrong with the marriage. Mr. Rollo had made a terrible mistake. She's somewhere but she don't come to the house."

  "Then he's still married to her?"

  "Of course he's still married to her and that's why they've got to have Mr. Philip for Miss Esmeralda."

  I thought a great deal about Rollo. I had always considered there was something unusual about him and that nothing ordinary could happen to him. It seemed I had been right.

  A week or so passed. There had been a visit to the theater with the Carringtons and to my delight I was a member of the party. Philip had kept his word but Cousin Agatha was most put out. "I cannot think why Lady Emily should have included Ellen," I heard her comment. "It's really quite unsuitable, considering that she will soon be working more or less in our own circle. It could give rise to embarrassment. I wonder whether I should speak to Lady Emily."

  How I disliked her, far more than I ever had before, and that dislike was largely because of my fear of the future.

  I tried not to think about it, but my habit of thrusting aside the unpleasant and deluding myself into the belief that it would never happen was not quite so successful as usual.

  The play was the second of Oscar Wilde's productions—A Woman of No Importance—and we went to the Haymarket Theatre to see it. I was greatly excited by the performance of Mr. Tree and between the acts I discussed the play animatedly with Philip and Mr. Carrington, for I was sitting between them.

  I noticed that Cousin Agatha was regarding me with intense disapproval, but I didn't care. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. The mysterious Rollo was not present and Esmeralda on the other side of Philip said very little.

  The next day Cousin Agatha took me to task.

  "You talk far too much, Ellen," she told me. "It's a habit you will have to learn to repress. I think Mr. Carrington was a little put out."

  "He didn't seem so at all," I couldn't help retorting. "He was most pleasant and appeared to be interested in what I had to say."

  "My dear Ellen," said Cousin Agatha in a tone implying that I was anything but dear, "he is a gentleman, and therefore would not dream of expressing his disapproval. I really think Lady Emily was a little unwise to issue the invitation in view of your position. I must again ask you to remember to assume a more modest role in future."

  Whatever she said she could not take the joy of that evening from me, and I was sure that Mr. Carrington had been rather amused by my comments and by the manner in which Philip and I disagreed with each other. As for Lady Emily, I had discovered that she was rather vague and she probably wasn't sure that I was the one who was having my last fling before I entered the gray world of governessing.

  The night of the dance was fast approaching.

  The three large rooms known as the drawing rooms on the first floor were opened up and made a rather fine ballroom. There were balconies in all rooms and these gave a view of the Park on one side and of gardens and some rather fine buildings on the other. Evergreen plants grew in elaborate containers on the balconies and when the rooms were decorated with flowers the effect was charming.

  There was to be a buffet supper taken in the dining room, now equipped with little tables; and there was a group of six musicians who would play for the dancing and continue with soothing music during supper. There was to be no expense spared because this was after all Esmeralda's coming-out dance and Cousin Agatha wanted all to know, and in particular the Carringtons—as if they did not already—that Esmeralda's parents were very comfortably placed in life and a good dowry could be expected.

  I was caught up in the excitement although I was not entirely pleased with my dress. Black was not one of my colors and the dress was severe and only just managed to creep into the ball-dress category. When I saw Esmeralda's beautiful concoction of frills and lace in a lovely sea blue that was almost green I was f
illed with envy. It was just the dress I should have loved. But of course it wasn't serviceable and would not stand up to the years as my velvet would.

  The night before the ball I had dreamed once more of the room with the red carpet. There I was standing near the fireplace, and I heard the whispering voices as I always did. On this occasion they seemed nearer and then suddenly that feeling of doom overtook me and I was staring at the door—and this was new—it started to open. A terrible fear possessed me then. I could not take my eyes from that door. Very slowly it moved and I knew that whatever it was I dreaded was behind it.

  Then I woke up. I was trembling and sweating with fear. It had been a very vivid dream. It always was but on this occasion the overtaking doom had come a little nearer.

  I sat up in bed. How silly to be so scared by a dream and a dream of nothing really. . . just a room.

  I saw then that the door of my wardrobe had come open and I fancied a figure swayed there. I felt the horror come sweeping back over me. Then I saw that it was the black ball dress hanging there. I must have omitted to fasten the door securely.

  I lay back and admonished myself. It was only a dream. But why did I go on dreaming this same frightened dream year after year?

  I tried to shake off that feeling of approaching disaster. How could I? It was six weeks since I had been interviewed by Mrs. Oman Lemming; the time was approaching.

  But this coming night would be that of the dance. True, I only had a black gown which I didn't like, but it was adequate. I loved to dance. I was so much more adept than Esmeralda, who had little sense of rhythm. I would put the thought of Mrs. Oman Lemming from my mind.

  During that morning a little box arrived, and to my amazement it was addressed to me. Rose brought it up; she had taken it in at the servants' entrance.

  "Look at this, Miss Ellen," she said. "It's for you. My word, admirers, is it!"

  And there it was nestling into its protective box, a most beautiful and delicate orchid with a pinkish mauve merging tinge. It was just the decoration I needed to liven up my black dress.