“That’s putting it bluntly. Please forgive me. Naturally your parents want to see whom your sister is proposing to marry.”

“I daresay his family would want to inspect us.”

“Very likely. And how was this? Amicable? Did all meet with approval? Forgive me again. You see, I should never have been invited to meet your family because…”

“Because of the feud.”

“That is why I consider myself extremely fortunate to have met you in this most unexpected way.”

“My parents will be full of gratitude to you when they hear what you have done for me.”

“It was a great pleasure. Do have another of these cakes of Mrs. Brodie’s. They really are good, aren’t they?”

I agreed that they were.

“And are you really feeling better now?”

I assured him I was.

“I am so glad of that.” He looked as though he meant it sincerely. I thought: There is something very pleasant about him. What a pity he is not on speaking terms with the Tregarlands. I should have liked to bring my parents to thank him. I suppose that would not be possible in the circumstances.

“This feud,” I said. “How long has it been going on?”

“About a hundred years.”

“Surely now…?”

He lifted his shoulders.

“It passed on through generations. We’re rather like that in these parts. We don’t let go of the past easily.”

“If it were something good, something worth remembering, I could understand it. But in a case like this…”

“Well, we have never had anything to do with each other, so we don’t miss anything. It is just there.”

“How did it start? Nobody seems to be sure at Tregarland’s.”

“Nobody? I daresay old Mr. Tregarland remembers. Whom did you ask?”

“I haven’t really asked anyone. I thought it might not be ethical to do so. Mrs. Lewyth did not seem to know.”

“Well, she isn’t one of the family, is she? Or is she?”

“She is a great friend of them all.”

“And looks after the place. And the son…well, he is Tregarlands…as far as the estate is concerned.”

“He seems to be very involved in that.”

“Far more so than the son of the house.”

“So Mr. Lewyth really runs it.”

“That’s common knowledge. The son does not seem to have much feeling for the place. He gets away when he can.”

“We met him in Germany,” I said.

“He’s always been away a good deal. You can’t run an estate like that by not being there. So, you haven’t had a very long acquaintance with him?”

“No. There was just this meeting. We were visiting friends and he was on holiday. He and my sister…”

“Fell in love at first sight.”

I was amazed at myself for talking to him so frankly; I supposed it was because I was really in a very grateful mood after what had happened, and there was something about him which inspired confidences. I forgot that I had met him only a short time before.

I said: “Tell me about the feud.”

“Oh…now, let me see. It was a love affair, you know. It is amazing how many of life’s problems start that way. One of my ancestors…now what was her name? I have heard it. Arabella? No, Araminta. That was it. She was very beautiful, as behoves the heroine of such a story; and as a matter of fact, there is a portrait of her in the house—and she was. The story goes that a match had been arranged for her with a gentleman whom the family considered to be highly eligible. Araminta did not agree. He was thirty years older than she was and he was very rich. I imagine it was this last which put him into such high favor with the family, for apparently finances were low at the time. The estate was not as it should be, and the gentleman’s money was needed to prop it up. This he was prepared to do in return for the hand of seventeen-year-old Araminta.”

“Poor girl!” I said.

“Poor girl, indeed. But a common enough story. Certainly nowadays there is more freedom of choice. But in those days the will of Papa was the law. However, the son of Tregarland was young and handsome. His name was Dermot.”

“Oh, the same…”

“These names run in families. Tregarland’s is spattered with Dermots. I am by no means the first Jowan in mine.”

“The way the story is going, I guess that Dermot and Araminta fell in love.”

“You are absolutely right. How could it have been otherwise? At that time there was no feud between the families. I gather that the finances at Tregarland were in no more healthy a state than those of Jermyn; in any case poor Araminta’s future had been decided. She was to marry her wealthy admirer, restore the crumbling family mansion, forgo true love, and learn to live happily ever after with the husband of her father’s choice.”

“Which she did not. It is really very sad.”

“Indeed, it is. Dermot Tregarland was not a man to stand aside and let his love be whisked from him. He made plans. He was going to elope. There was treachery somewhere and the news leaked out. It might have been through the servants. They are like detectives in our houses, especially so in those days where there were many more of them. However, it became known to the Jermyns that their daughter was planning to elope with her Tregarland lover who was to creep into the grounds by night when she would slip out to meet him. It was easy to lock her in her room, but they set a trap for him. There was a fearsome contraption which they used to set in the woods to warn off poachers. It was called a man-trap. Well, the outcome was that when Dermot came for his bride he was caught in the trap.”

“Did it kill him?”

“Unfortunately for him, no. It was not meant to kill. His leg was so mangled that he could never use it again.”

“What a terrible story! I am not surprised that the Tregarland family hated yours.”

“It was terrible. But that was not the end. Araminta, broken-hearted, locked in her room, was unable to get out while her lover lay in agony on the trap until in the morning one of the servants found him.”

“Surely they were punished for doing such a cruel thing!”

“They had a good defense. There was a robbery in the neighborhood. They were protecting their property. Man-traps were not unknown. It was reckoned that those who were caught in them had no right to be in that spot.”

“And what happened to the lovers?”

“Dermot Tregarland was an embittered cripple for the rest of his life.”

“And Araminta…did she marry the rich suitor?”

“The preparations for the wedding went on. Everyone thought the marriage would take place. There were to be great festivities…a grand ball…”

“And what about the Tregarlands? Did they retaliate? They had not wanted the match, but…”

“What could the lovers do? Dermot was lying in his bed knowing that he would never walk without crutches again. He was in no state to stage a romantic rescue. Araminta took matters into her own hands. The night before the wedding, she went down to the sea. She walked into it and never came back.”

“What a terrible story! So she killed herself, and her lover was maimed for the rest of his life.”

“Pretty strong stuff, you see. In a way it makes you understand the feud.”

“But all those years ago! Do you feel this hatred? After all, Araminta was one of your family.”

“Well, the Tregarlands were wronged more than we were. We were, after all, the instigators. It was my great-great (I am not sure how many greats) grandfather who set the trap which gave Dermot Tregarland the scars for the rest of his life. They have more reason to hate us than we have to hate them. Araminta died by her own hand because of the cruelty of her own family. Over the years which followed the tragedy, they provoked us wherever possible. Anger flared up between us. Throughout his life that Dermot could not forget that we had not only robbed him of his love but maimed him for ever.”

“It’s a sad story, but I am glad I know. It was about a hundred years ago, you say. It is rather a long time for something to fester like that. None of the people concerned in it are living now.”