castlelbeit shared by David, Emerald, little Esmond and Grandfather Egmont. And the bridegroom was a doctor. Such a comforting profession. One never need suffer from mysterious ailments, for he would always know what was wrong and to whom should he give his care more assiduously than to his dear wife? Oh yes, Jessamy was a queen of romance. I would never have believed it possible. In fact, I had always thought that, in spite of my overwhelming handicap, I should be the first to marry.
Well, Fater Aunt Amy Jane, which I had begun to believe was the same thingad decided otherwise. And here I was confronted by bucketfuls of beautifully scented flowers which filled the church porch with their exquisite perfume and I was to start on this taskor which I was not really fully qualified; but I should be some help to poor tired overworked Sally.
I carried the buckets into the church and found the containers in the vestry. Then I set about the task. I sorted the colors and carried in more water from the pump and began on the flowers.
I had been working for an hour, cautiously picking up the prickly stems and arranging the flowers to the best of my ability.
They were so beautifulnly the very best blooms would suit Aunt Amy Jane, and I could imagine how the gardeners had been harassed ever since she knew there was to be a wedding. I decided that the glorious pink roses which had an even more exquisite scent than the others should go on the altar. There was a special pot which was used for this. It was metal and rather heavy. I made the mistake of filling it with water and arranging the flowers and then carrying it up the three carpeted steps to the altar. I should, of course, have taken it to the altar and filled it there. It was a supreme effort on my part and I was not going to dismantle it. I was sure I could never achieve that artistry again. So I picked it up and started up the altar steps.
I am not sure now what happened. Whether I heard the church door creak and open, and turned and so fell, or whether I stumbled and fell and then the door opened. I turned to look towards the door and saw a man standing there as I felt the pot slipping out of my hands. The roses were falling out, stabbing my hands, and I made a frantic effort to save the pot, which failed. I went sprawling up the three steps. It all happened in less than a second. I was lying there, the overall I had put over my dress was soaked with water, the flowers were scattered round me, and the pot had gone rolling down the stairsump, bump, bumpcattering Seton prize blooms as it went.
A man was looking down at me.
hat happened? I afraid I startled you,I heard him say.
I have often heard of those dramatic moments when one meets people who make a devastating effect from the first. I had never believed it. One had to get to know people before one could judge whether one was going to like them. That was what I had always believed. Deep feeling has to grow. But something happened to me on those altar steps. It meant that I was fast approaching the end of my carefree girlhood when, try as I might to be serious, anything seemed to turn into a joke. Something was about to happen which was no joke at all.
I noticed that he was tall, that he had dark hair with rather heavily marked brows. It was a somewhat inscrutable face but it was one which I wanted to go on looking at.
It could only have been some seconds that I lay there looking up at him, but it seemed to go on for a long time. Then he was kneeling down beside me, helping me up.
e spilled the water over the carpet,I said.
es, you have. Let make sure youe all right, though. Come on. Stand up.
I did so.
ll right?he asked.
y foot hurts a bit.
He knelt and touched my ankle. He had a firm yet delicate touch.
ress down,he said. ow put your weight on it. All right?
ll right,I said.
o bones broken. What about your wrist? You fell on that, I think.
I looked down at my hands. There was blood on them.
nly a prick or two
Well, Fater Aunt Amy Jane, which I had begun to believe was the same thingad decided otherwise. And here I was confronted by bucketfuls of beautifully scented flowers which filled the church porch with their exquisite perfume and I was to start on this taskor which I was not really fully qualified; but I should be some help to poor tired overworked Sally.
I carried the buckets into the church and found the containers in the vestry. Then I set about the task. I sorted the colors and carried in more water from the pump and began on the flowers.
I had been working for an hour, cautiously picking up the prickly stems and arranging the flowers to the best of my ability.
They were so beautifulnly the very best blooms would suit Aunt Amy Jane, and I could imagine how the gardeners had been harassed ever since she knew there was to be a wedding. I decided that the glorious pink roses which had an even more exquisite scent than the others should go on the altar. There was a special pot which was used for this. It was metal and rather heavy. I made the mistake of filling it with water and arranging the flowers and then carrying it up the three carpeted steps to the altar. I should, of course, have taken it to the altar and filled it there. It was a supreme effort on my part and I was not going to dismantle it. I was sure I could never achieve that artistry again. So I picked it up and started up the altar steps.
I am not sure now what happened. Whether I heard the church door creak and open, and turned and so fell, or whether I stumbled and fell and then the door opened. I turned to look towards the door and saw a man standing there as I felt the pot slipping out of my hands. The roses were falling out, stabbing my hands, and I made a frantic effort to save the pot, which failed. I went sprawling up the three steps. It all happened in less than a second. I was lying there, the overall I had put over my dress was soaked with water, the flowers were scattered round me, and the pot had gone rolling down the stairsump, bump, bumpcattering Seton prize blooms as it went.
A man was looking down at me.
hat happened? I afraid I startled you,I heard him say.
I have often heard of those dramatic moments when one meets people who make a devastating effect from the first. I had never believed it. One had to get to know people before one could judge whether one was going to like them. That was what I had always believed. Deep feeling has to grow. But something happened to me on those altar steps. It meant that I was fast approaching the end of my carefree girlhood when, try as I might to be serious, anything seemed to turn into a joke. Something was about to happen which was no joke at all.
I noticed that he was tall, that he had dark hair with rather heavily marked brows. It was a somewhat inscrutable face but it was one which I wanted to go on looking at.
It could only have been some seconds that I lay there looking up at him, but it seemed to go on for a long time. Then he was kneeling down beside me, helping me up.
e spilled the water over the carpet,I said.
es, you have. Let make sure youe all right, though. Come on. Stand up.
I did so.
ll right?he asked.
y foot hurts a bit.
He knelt and touched my ankle. He had a firm yet delicate touch.
ress down,he said. ow put your weight on it. All right?
ll right,I said.
o bones broken. What about your wrist? You fell on that, I think.
I looked down at my hands. There was blood on them.
nly a prick or two
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