the panelling. That tells the age.”
I was speechless with wonder.
“Here is the family crest and look at the family tree; and entwined in the decorations over the fireplace, the initials of the Landowers who were living here at the time it was put in. Can you see anyone else living here … with everything that belongs to us?”
“Oh, Jago, it mustn’t be. I hope it never happens.”
“That is the screens passage over there and the way to the kitchens. I won’t take you there. I daresay the kitchen servants are nodding away, having an afternoon nap. They wouldn’t be very pleased to see us. Come on.” He led me up a flight of stairs to the dining room. Through the windows I could see the lawns and the gardens. Tapestry hung on the walls depicting scenes from the Bible; at either end of the table stood candelabra, and the table was set as though the family were about to sit down for a meal. On the great sideboard were chafing dishes in gleaming silver. This did not seem like a doomed house.
There was a hushed atmosphere in the chapel into which he next led me. It was larger than ours at Tressidor and I felt overawed as our footsteps rang out on the stone flags. Scenes from the Crucifixion were etched on the stone walls; and the stained-glass windows were beautiful, the carvings on the altar so intricate that I felt I should have to spend hours examining them to discover what they implied.
After that he took me to the solarium—a happy room with many windows, and as bright and sunny as its name implied. Between the windows and walls were portraits—Landowers through the ages and some notable people as well.
All about me was antiquity, the evidence of a family who had built a house and had made it a home.
Having seen something of my father’s bitterness over the loss of Tressidor Manor, and Cousin Mary’s pride in it, and determination to keep her hold on it, I understood the tragedy the Landowers were facing.
As I examined the tapestry I was aware that someone had come into the gallery. I turned sharply and saw that it was Paul Landower. I had not seen him since my arrival but I recognized him at once.
“Miss Tressidor,” he said with a bow.
“Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Landower. Your brother is showing me the house.”
“So I perceive.”
“It’s wonderful.” My lips trembled with emotion. “I understand … I couldn’t bear it …”
He said rather coldly I thought: “My brother has been talking of our troubles.”
“Well, why keep it a secret,” said Jago. “You can bet your life everyone knows.”
Paul Landower nodded. “As you say, no point in keeping dark what will be common knowledge soon … very soon.”
“Is there no hope then?” asked Jago.
Paul shook his head. “Not so far. Perhaps we can find a way.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
Paul Landower looked at me for a few seconds, then he laughed. “What a way to treat our guest! I’m ashamed of you, Jago. Have you offered her refreshment?”
“I just came in to see the house,” I said.
“Well, I’m sure you would like … tea. Is that so?”
“I’m quite happy just looking at the house.”
“We’re honoured. We don’t often have Tressidors calling.”
“It’s a pity. I am sure anyone would consider it an honour to be invited here.”
“We don’t do a great deal of entertaining now, do we, Jago? It is all we can do to keep the roof over our head and that, my dear Miss Tressidor, let me tell you, is in danger of falling in.”
I looked up in alarm.
“Oh, not immediately. We shall probably get a further warning. We have had little warnings already. What have you shown Miss Tressidor so far?”
Jago explained.
“There’s more to see yet. I’ll tell you what. Bring Miss Tressidor to my ante-room in half an hour. We’ll give her some tea to mark the occasion when a Tressidor comes to Landower.”
Jago said he would do that and Paul left us.
“Things must have gone very badly for him to talk
I was speechless with wonder.
“Here is the family crest and look at the family tree; and entwined in the decorations over the fireplace, the initials of the Landowers who were living here at the time it was put in. Can you see anyone else living here … with everything that belongs to us?”
“Oh, Jago, it mustn’t be. I hope it never happens.”
“That is the screens passage over there and the way to the kitchens. I won’t take you there. I daresay the kitchen servants are nodding away, having an afternoon nap. They wouldn’t be very pleased to see us. Come on.” He led me up a flight of stairs to the dining room. Through the windows I could see the lawns and the gardens. Tapestry hung on the walls depicting scenes from the Bible; at either end of the table stood candelabra, and the table was set as though the family were about to sit down for a meal. On the great sideboard were chafing dishes in gleaming silver. This did not seem like a doomed house.
There was a hushed atmosphere in the chapel into which he next led me. It was larger than ours at Tressidor and I felt overawed as our footsteps rang out on the stone flags. Scenes from the Crucifixion were etched on the stone walls; and the stained-glass windows were beautiful, the carvings on the altar so intricate that I felt I should have to spend hours examining them to discover what they implied.
After that he took me to the solarium—a happy room with many windows, and as bright and sunny as its name implied. Between the windows and walls were portraits—Landowers through the ages and some notable people as well.
All about me was antiquity, the evidence of a family who had built a house and had made it a home.
Having seen something of my father’s bitterness over the loss of Tressidor Manor, and Cousin Mary’s pride in it, and determination to keep her hold on it, I understood the tragedy the Landowers were facing.
As I examined the tapestry I was aware that someone had come into the gallery. I turned sharply and saw that it was Paul Landower. I had not seen him since my arrival but I recognized him at once.
“Miss Tressidor,” he said with a bow.
“Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Landower. Your brother is showing me the house.”
“So I perceive.”
“It’s wonderful.” My lips trembled with emotion. “I understand … I couldn’t bear it …”
He said rather coldly I thought: “My brother has been talking of our troubles.”
“Well, why keep it a secret,” said Jago. “You can bet your life everyone knows.”
Paul Landower nodded. “As you say, no point in keeping dark what will be common knowledge soon … very soon.”
“Is there no hope then?” asked Jago.
Paul shook his head. “Not so far. Perhaps we can find a way.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
Paul Landower looked at me for a few seconds, then he laughed. “What a way to treat our guest! I’m ashamed of you, Jago. Have you offered her refreshment?”
“I just came in to see the house,” I said.
“Well, I’m sure you would like … tea. Is that so?”
“I’m quite happy just looking at the house.”
“We’re honoured. We don’t often have Tressidors calling.”
“It’s a pity. I am sure anyone would consider it an honour to be invited here.”
“We don’t do a great deal of entertaining now, do we, Jago? It is all we can do to keep the roof over our head and that, my dear Miss Tressidor, let me tell you, is in danger of falling in.”
I looked up in alarm.
“Oh, not immediately. We shall probably get a further warning. We have had little warnings already. What have you shown Miss Tressidor so far?”
Jago explained.
“There’s more to see yet. I’ll tell you what. Bring Miss Tressidor to my ante-room in half an hour. We’ll give her some tea to mark the occasion when a Tressidor comes to Landower.”
Jago said he would do that and Paul left us.
“Things must have gone very badly for him to talk
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