He had said however that he did not see why they should wait a whole year. He had declared he would speak to her father and his people. "Perhaps we could have a quieter wedding if that would offend conventions less." He was impatient of conventions; he was by nature headstrong and ardent; that was probably why he enchanted her. She had felt temporarily sure of him until that moment when she had seen him look at the stranger and delight in her.

But he will soon be gone, she assured herself. And who knows, perhaps I can find some means of sending her away before he returns.

In the servants' hall Meaker sat at the head of the table. Supper, when they all gathered together to exchange gossip and discuss affairs of the household, was the high-light of their days. Mrs. Soady, the cook, could be relied upon to provide a loaded table; there were pies and pasties to keep up their strength; and it was Mrs. Soady's delight never to let them know what was beneath the piecrust. Sometimes it would be a taddage pie made of delicious sucking pig; at others a squab pie with layers of apple, bacon, onions and mutton with a squab at the bottom of the dish. There would be giblet pies and lammy pies, tatty pies and herby pies. There would be no secret about the popular pasty nor that favourite star-gazy pie, for in the first place there was no disguising the shape of the pasty, and the pilchards' heads peeping out of the pastry betrayed the star-gazy for what it was. No table of Mrs. Soady's was complete without a dish of cream with which Mrs. Soady liked to see all her pastry anointed; and there was always plenty of mead and cider with which to wash down the food. And with Mr. Meaker at one end of the table and Mrs. Soady at the other, they were a happy family in the servants' hall at Trevenning.

There was one notable absentee that night, but Wenna did not always join the others at table. When Lady Trevenning had been alive and she was always waiting on her ladyship, Wenna would have her meals at odd moments. Now she had continued the practice in the service of Miss Caroline. Wenna was a specially favoured servant.

On this day there was no talk of affairs outside the house. Mrs. Soady did not, as she often did, talk of her sister, the wise woman, and the members of her wonderful family. Mrs. Soady belonged to a 'pellar' family, and in such families supernatural power was handed down through generation after generation from an ancestor who had assisted a mermaid back to the sea. Mrs. Soady's sister, as well as being a member of such a family was a seventh child and a footling into the bargain (she had been born feet first) and everyone at the table had been reminded that being born feet first was an indication of great powers to come; so the Soady family were generally one of the favourite topics.

Mr. Meaker could not allow his family to be completely overshadowed. They were not 'pellars', but they were invalids and had suffered from all the most terrible diseases known to man. Mr. Meaker had not been so long at Trevenning as some of the servants; he had served other masters, and, according to his accounts, the houses in which he had served were not only much grander than Trevenning, but all the inhabitants had been martyrs to their various ailments. Such conversations, sponsored by Mrs. Soady and augmented by Mr. Meaker, went down very

well with 'fair-maids' and pasties or one of Mrs. Soady's mystery pies.

But to-night, of course, there was no talk but of Miss Caroline's new companion.

Peg, who had shown her to her bedroom, was looked to for special information because she had actually helped the newcomer to unpack her bag. The trouble with Peg was that being rather silly she kept choking with laughter and had to be slapped on the back or given water or mead to drink in order that a threatened attack of hysteria might be counteracted. Mr. Meaker had warned her before about hiccups. A member of one of his families had started an attack just like Peg's, and it had lasted six weeks before it killed him.

"Now you, Peg," said Mrs. Soady with a trace of irritability, "don't 'ee be so soft, don't! And give over giggling. Now what was there in the bag?"

"Oh, not much, Mrs. Soady . . . but what she had was terrible queer. And she had a black frock and a green bonnet . . . green, I tell'ee!"

"Well that ain't telling us nothing," said Mrs. Soady. "Mr. Meaker saw that much."

Mr. Meaker was glad to seize an opportunity. "And a handsome wench, she was, Mrs. Soady. Healthy and shapely." He curved his hands to indicate the curves of Melisande, smiling as he did so.

"Give over!" said Mrs. Soady. "I'll warrant Mr. Fermor had his eyes on her."

"He had indeed, Mrs. Soady," put in Bet. She looked slyly at Peg. Bet lacked Peg's buxom charms so she was glad Mr. Fermor had noticed the stranger, for that would put Peg's nose out of joint. Bet knew—if others didn't—what Peg was. Peg came from West Looe, Bet from East Looe; they were natural rivals. Peg always took Mr. Fermor's hot water up in the mornings, and sometimes she stayed a long time and came out flushed and giggling. Bet knew; and it would serve Peg right if others knew and Peg was sent packing to that cottage on the quay whence she came.

"And what did you see, Bet?"

"Well," said Bet, with a titter, "I don't rightly think that Miss Caroline is all that pleased with the companion her father's brought from London."

Mr. Meaker said: "Master Fermor is a real gentleman. There's many like him. I remember Mr. Leigh up to Leigh House. Not the present Mr. Leigh, but his father. He was a man for the maidens. Some say it brought on his end . . . prematurely." Everyone looked with respect at Mr. Meaker who had the manners and speech of a gentleman and who liked to baffle them with the use of words

unfamiliar to them. Mr. Meaker looked round the company and laughed. "I remember old Lil Tremorney; she was in his bed . . . regular, so I heard, when she was employed up to Leigh House."

"Now, Mr. Meaker, there's young people present," said Mrs. Soady, "and young people as is in my charge.''

"I beg your pardon humbly, Mrs. Soady ... I beg it humbly. . . . But facts are facts and best faced."

Mrs. Soady wanted to get back to the subject which interested her.

"And from foreign lands they say she do come."

"She do talk like to make you fair die of laughing," Peg put in; and others who had heard her speak confirmed this.

"She be French, I've heard," said Mrs. Soady. "Like as not Mr. Meaker will tell us how we calls a young woman that's French. T'ain't Miss, I do know for sure."

Mr. Meaker, who was delighted to be called upon to give information, explained that French ladies if unmarried—and they could be sure this young person was—were called Mamazel.

"There now!" said Mrs. Soady admiring Mr. Meaker's knowledge of the world. "Fancy that."

"When I was serving the tea," said Annie the parlourmaid, "after dinner 'twas ... in the drawing-room ..."

"We know when you serve tea, Annie," said Mrs. Soady sharply.

"Well then I heard Mr. Fermor say to her: 'You're very charming . . .' I think it were . . . and I forget what else."

"You should remember better," said Mrs. Soady. "What did Miss Caroline say?"

"She were terrible put out—you could see that."

"I can't think what's come over the master," said Mr. Meaker. "If he were a man like old Mr. Leigh it would not be outside my comprehension to see him bring a young female into the house. But we know the master for what he is; and for the life of me I cannot see why Miss Caroline wants a young female companion."