In due course we returned to the solar which was filled with pale December sunshine. Tea was brought by a maid who could not hide her curiosity. I guessed that she knew I came from Tregarland’s.

I learned more about Jowan Jermyn.

He had owned the house for two years, although he had spent his childhood here. His father was the younger son of that Charles Jermyn on whose death the house had gone to Jowan’s father’s elder brother, Joseph.

“The house had been neglected for years,” he said. “I always had a special feeling for it. We had a place on the north coast, for, when my father married, he went to live in north Cornwall, where I was born. My mother never recovered from my birth and died three years after it. My grandfather had been artistic and was not interested in the material things of life. I came here and was brought up by my grandmother. Uncle Joseph was of a somewhat profligate nature. He was a great gambler and spent a great deal of time in London. He had little feeling for the country. His lack of interest grieved my grandmother. Uncle Joseph was an unsatisfactory Jermyn. He did not marry, although he had several children. He did not want family ties, and so on. He inherited the house in due course. My father, who loved this place, could not bear to be near and it not be his. He knew the way it would go because old houses need constant attention, and when some little deterioration shows it should be dealt with immediately. So I was deposited with my grandmother while he went to New Zealand. I was to join him when he was ready to have me. I did not want to go. I wanted to stay with my grandmother in this house.”

“But you came back to it eventually?”

“It worked out unexpectedly. I was eighteen when my father died. He had left his place in New Zealand to me. I did not want to go abroad; my grandmother did not want me to leave. She was very sad about the house, which was in a dire state by this time. Uncle Joseph was only interested in the revenues which came from the place.”

“And you went to New Zealand?”

“Yes. I was there for four years. Then I heard that Uncle Joseph had died prematurely, which was not altogether surprising. He had been drinking too heavily for years. My father was heir to the estate and, since he had died, it fell to me. I sold up everything in New Zealand and came home. I have been here ever since.”

“Your grandmother…?”

“You’ll meet her. She is in her room most of the time nowadays.”

“You mean she is here?”

He nodded. “Where else would she be? She loves me place. It is an interest we share.”

“And…what about the feud?”

He laughed. “She feels about that as I do…as you do. A lot of nonsense.”

“That’s the sensible view, of course.”

“Yes, but in spite of that, it has been going on for a long time.”

“It is due to the superstitious people around us. They have kept it going all this time.”

“I suppose it supplies a little excitement, something to talk about.”

“That’s so, and, of course, since the first Mrs. Tregarland died it brought it up again.”

“But the families were never friendly. We needed a visitor from ‘foreign parts’ to set it right.”

I laughed. “Do you think the fact that you have invited me here is going to change all that?”

“I think it is the first step.”

We talked for a long time and I glanced at my watch.

“I shall have to go,” I said, “Dorabella will be anxious to hear about this visit.”

He stood up and, taking my hand, helped me to rise. He held it for some time while he smiled at me. I felt deep pleasure.

“Before you go,” he said, “you must say hello to my grandmother.”

“I should very much like that.”

“Come on, then.”

He led me up a staircase, through a gallery to a corridor, and then up more stairs.

He opened the door of a room which was clearly a sitting room and, through an open door, I saw a four-poster bed. Mrs. Charlotte Jermyn was sitting in a chair, a piece of crochet work in her hands. She looked over the top of her spectacles as I came in.

“Grandmother,” said Jowan. “I have brought her to show you and to show you to her.”

She smiled. “Well, this is nice.” She had dropped the crochet into her lap and held out her hand.

“I’m a bit stiff today,” she said. “It’s my rheumatism. It is worse some days than others. They say this damp climate is not good for it. Well, Miss Denver, it is nice to see you here. Jowan has told me about you.”

“I am so pleased to be here and to meet you.”

She laughed. “It’s time someone put their feet through that nonsense. I guessed Jowan would be the one to do it. And now your sister is up there and you are a frequent visitor.”

“I came for the birth of the baby and shall be staying until after Christmas.”

“That is good. We always have a real Cornish Christmas here. We call it keeping up the old customs. Tell me about your sister and the new baby.”

I told her and we talked awhile.

Jowan watched us in an amused way, pleased, I could see, that we were getting on well together.

I was sorry that I had to leave, but I could imagine Dorabella’s impatience, so I said I must go.

“You’ll come again,” said Mrs. Jermyn. “I shall look forward to seeing you.”

It was with reluctance that at last I left.

Dorabella was very impatient to hear what had happened. She was eager to meet Jowan and suggested that he be invited to the house. To dinner? To lunch, perhaps, would be best for a start.

“He sounds fun,” she said, looking at me searchingly.

I knew what was in her mind, just as I knew what had been in my mother’s concerning Richard Dorrington.

I said: “You should make sure that the family approve. Don’t forget, this feud has been going on for a hundred years or more. You come into the family and want to break it up.”

“I want to break it up! Who fell off her horse and started it up by meeting him secretly, going to his house, meeting his grandmother…” She giggled. “All right. I’ll suggest it to Dermot.”

“I think Dermot’s father should be the one to make the decision. After all, he is the head of the household.”

“Very well. But I think he’d love it.”

“And what about Matilda?”

“Well, I suppose, now I am the mistress of the house. Matilda, after all, is only a glorified housekeeper.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that.”

“It is for your ears alone.”

The result of this was that Jowan and his grandmother were invited to lunch.

As we had guessed, old Mr. Tregarland had no objection and enjoyed the meeting tremendously, as I am sure Jowan’s grandmother did. I think they relished the behavior of the servants and I imagined the news would travel fast. The Jermyns were making friends with the Tregarlands, and it was all due to the second Mrs. Tregarland and her sister!

It was a very pleasant lunch.

The days were passing quickly. Mary Grace had returned to London, taking with her the finished picture of Dorabella which was to be fitted into the frame. My mother would bring it with her when she came for Christmas.

Then Christmas came. My parents joined us and we were all very merry.

There was the ceremony of bringing in the log and what they called the “wassailing,” when the head of the family stood by a bowl of spiced wine from which he drank before passing it round so that everyone might have a sip. It seemed a rather unhealthy procedure, but we were told that it had been done since Saxon days and it was considered unlucky not to cling to the old ways.

Carol singers came; they were invited into the hall to partake of wine and cakes. Then there were the guise dances, when the young dressed up in any costumes they could find—the girls mostly as boys and the boys as girls; those who had no costumes just blacked their faces and danced through the lanes and into the courtyard.