Love Bade Me Welcome
her Millicent, remember. That was our bargain.”
    “We struck no bargain,” I pointed out. “If I have a girl, I would like to call her Margaret, after my mother. Perhaps Margaret Millicent,” I amended, at the stricken expression that came over her.
    “What we must do is get hold of an ass, and get ass’s milk for you,” was her next speech. “It will do young Millie a world of good.”
    Jarvis looked at her and shook his head. She was arranging the future to her liking.
    “I’ll tell you what,” she exclaimed, jumping up. “Come up to my laboratory and I’ll make you a nice restorative right now.”
    “Why don’t you run along and do it, Millie?” Jarvis suggested. “Let Davinia rest. All those stairs aren’t good for her.” This proved acceptable to her. She hastened off, muttering to herself.
    “You will have your work cut out, avoiding her,” he said. “This will be an affair much to her liking, having a patient in the house twenty-four hours a day.”
    “If it amuses her, there is no harm done. I wouldn’t take any of her potions.”
    “As to that, she does know herbs and things. She tends to all the servants’ ills, but of course you will be under the care of Dr. Nevans.”
    We talked for ten minutes, during which time I saw clearly that Jarvis was troubled, but that he did not blame me for the state of affairs. It was natural, I supposed, that he favored his own nephew for the heir, over the child of a stranger, for with Norman dead, that is all I was to them. I was learning well enough that Homer had always been the favorite in this household. Sly mentions of Norman’s drinking, his wild ways, crept in oftener than I have stated. After our talk, I went to get the boxes that had come for me. They were Norman’s books and writings—no jewelry, of course. I handed them over to Jarvis, and went out for a walk before lunch.
    I wandered through the topiary garden, trying to decide whether I liked it. Homer went out on some estate business. I ate with Millie and Jarvis, a quiet meal, with our former topic shoved under the table, which was a relief. I planned to walk in the afternoon, but the morning’s white clouds had turned to leaden gray, so I stayed indoors. The house was large, and still unfamiliar to me after only one brief tour, so that I decided to pass the afternoon becoming familiar with it. I was not hankering after the house, but if it were to be my son’s, then it was well for me to know more about it.
    I wandered from empty room to empty room abovestairs, assessing furnishings and decor, with, I confess, some vague ideas floating around as to changes that would be made if I were to be mistress in seven months. Would any woman with blood in her veins have done less? There was much that was fine in the chambers, and many a dusty, faded curtain and carpet that wanted replacing.
    At some point in my tour Millicent came creeping silently up behind me, nearly frightening me out of my wits when she appeared at my elbow. “I warrant Jarvis didn’t show you Emily’s suite,” she said with a mischievous smile.
    “Norman’s mother? You are mistaken, Millie. I did see it the other day, and a very fine room it was too.”
    “The front room is well enough. That’s not where they kept her, but only where her nurse stayed. They kept Emily under lock and key. Oh my, yes, with barred windows,” she added, her eyes widening. “Come along and I’ll show you,” she urged. I had no wish to be overly friendly with her, and said I was very tired, to get away. After I heard the attic door close, and knew she had gone to her laboratory, I crept quietly back to Emily’s chamber for another look. Not that I believed her, but mixed in with her nonsense were a few nuggets of truth.
    The room was as I remembered it, a pleasant chamber, the walls covered in flowers, the window hangings rose, and the bed coverlet green satin. It was overly feminine for my own taste, but a good room. It adjoined the

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