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'She'll have to be put away in the end. If Mr Lionel had had his way she would have gone long since. But it means money. She's never had a tantrum like this for some time. The master heard her and Mr Bright came up to ask me why couldn't I stop her. I mean . . . a daft thing to say.' Katie Swift made an indignant movement with her head, which cook confirmed by bobbing hers, then adding, 'It would take a regiment to calm her down when she starts.''D'you know what Ron said?' Katie Swift leant over the table towards cook and, lowering her voice, said, 'He thinks it's mostly because she's almost deaf and gets frustrated because people don't understand what she's sayin'. He says, if they had got proper attention to her from when she was a bairn she

486could have been improved on. Now what d'you say to that, cook?'*Well, I don't know.' Rose Jackson sighed. There are times when she wanders around like any ordinary bairn, except that she's always swinging her arms about and her legs never seem to be still. Her whole body's at a jangle at times.

But she doesn't make any trouble, and once she gets into the vegetable garden she'll stay there for hours.

Jimmy gives her a little spade and she digs away. I say, little spade. D'you remember a few months ago when she practically threw it at him and walked into the tool house and picked another one, not a full-sized one but one that Joseph Fable used when he was gardener here? He never liked heavy work, that one. It was a lightish spade. Well, Jimmy said, she went at it like a navvy. And she plants things, any old way and how because there's nobody to show her different. The last odd-job gardener was frightened to death of her, you remember? 'cos she went for him with the shovel. But Jimmy said it was just because he wouldn't show her how to plant. Jimmy's good with her, you know: whenever he's got a spare minute from those

487two damned horses, he goes down and takes her into the greenhouses and shows her seeds an*

things. But as he says himself, what does he know about gardenin'? the nearest he gets to it is the muck.'Both women now shook with their laughter; then cook, looking at the clock on the mantelpiece, said, 'It's time for the mistress's coffee, although she won't be in her office this mornin', she'll be up in the nursery calming that one down, if not tying her down.5'Oh, cook, she's never been tied down for a long time. How I used to hate that business 'cos she would look at you from the bed an' her eyes used to be sometimes wild, an' at times they would be sort of pleadin'. I tell you, Minnie an' me have had many a bubble when we've come down those stairs. But that was the fault of old Doctor Ledman; Doctor Curry put a stop to it when he took over. He went for Bright and the mistress. He's not afraid to speak his mind, but you can't understand half he says, him talkin' in thick Scots. And it's queer to see him with her: he talks to her and she mouths words back at him. Anyway, she's had a better life of it 488since he came on the scene. But what started this last blow-up, I don't know.''Did . . . did she see her father?''I don't think so. Yet it was just the sight of him that used to set her off into tantrums afore, remember?''Remember! I'll never forget that night in the hall. I thought he was goin' to choke her. I think he would have done if the mistress hadn't punched him in the face like she did. Of course, he was as drunk as a noodle. Eeh! that was a night one way or another. Well, there mightn't be much money in this house, but there's certainly plenty of excitement.','Here! Take the mistress's tray, an' find out where the youngster is. I've put another cup on the tray in case she's with the mistress, because she likes coffee.'Katie Swift found that she had to take the tray right up to the nursery, and there she found her mistress sitting on the side of the bed. But her daughter wasn't in the bed, she was sitting on the floor, her back pressed tight against the base of it.Katie put the tray on a small table, then said, 'Will I pour your coffee out, ma'am?''No; leave it. I'll see to it.'

489'Yes, ma'am.'Katie glanced at the girl on the floor, and the girl looked back at her, and the maid who had witnessed her birth thought, as she had done many, many times, Dear God! What a waste of a beautiful face.The door closed, Victoria bent forward and tapped her daughter on the arm; then, turning her palm upwards, she twice made an upward motion with it. And at this the girl shook her head, to which Victoria's response was to bend over and bring her hand down sharply on the narrow wrist, making her daughter wince before turning slowly onto her knees and rising from the floor and to stand before her mother.For a girl of eleven years of age she was tall and her body was straight. At first glance she looked to be a normal girl and, as Katie said, a beautiful one. That was until her arms began to jerk and her head to wag as if it was loose on her shoulders. And looking on this for the countless time since she had first witnessed it, Victoria told herself yet again, if she could remain perfectly still for minutes at a time she could stop these antics. Old Doctor Ledman used to say it 490was the result of sheer bad temper-he had seen others like it-that was at first, until he had pronounced her deaf. But Doctor Curry had a diflferent diagnosis. He called the temper frustration, and he said she wasn't totally deaf, she could hear certain sounds, even some voices. He had suggested she be sent away to a special school, where she would be taught to talk, at least better than she did now, but also quite well on her hands.But what had come of that? The school, like everything else meant money, and what was more, she didn't want her sent away. She was the only thing she had in her life on which she could express the little love that remained in her. That it took a hard form at times, didn't matter, nor the fact that often she had to slap her child with slaps verging on blows in retaliation for having herself received similar treatment from both hands and feet.She had found that if she stood straight in front of her daughter and spoke slowly and mouthed the words there was a gleam in the bright eyes, a gleam, she dared to hope, of understanding.

491She didn't know what had created this last outburst, only that it was over, and that it wasn't likely to happen again for some while.She kept her lips well apart, then mouthed, Tour . , , the ... coffee . . .'The girl's head dipped slightly with each word her mother spoke; then she made a sound in her throat that was quite unintelligible to Victoria and moved to the table. There, after pouring two cups of black coffee, she looked at her mother; and when Victoria pointed to herself with her index finger, she lifted up one of the cups and took it to her.Again mouthing the words, Victoria said, Thank . . . you.'The girl was returning to the table to take up her own cup when there was a tap on the door and Bright entered. He looked to where the young girl was now walking with her cup of coffee towards the chair, and he smiled at her before saying to Victoria, 'The master would like to have a word with you, ma'am, when you have time.'Til be down in a minute.'There was no, Thank you, Bright,' for such preliminaries had been done away with

492many years ago. These two understood each other, and the man who had despised the silly-headed bride had come to respect and pity the woman she had turned into. It could be said now there was between them an understanding almost verging on friendship. In a way it was akin to that which Bright felt for the old irascible man in the four-poster bed. To himself he likened this three-part association to a triangle, the edges of which were tightly morticed one into the other against the man who treated this house mainly as a lodging.She now turned to her daughter again and once more began to mouth words:

'Go . . . into . . . the . . . garden ... for ... a ... walk.'She didn't say, 'Take your spade and go to the vegetable garden,' because that would have indicated her daughter was a menial, but she knew that once her daughter got downstairs and out of the house she would make for the vegetable garden. She was never afraid that she might, instead, go out of the grounds, for she had, as yet, never shown any inclination to wander.The girl now rose from the chair and al-493most at a run went past Bright, who was holding the door open. And both he and his mistress stood where they were, listening to her feet pounding the bare boards of the landing, then to the sound of them running down the linoleumed stairs, and not until the sound died away did Victoria speak. And then she asked, 'What brought on the tantrum, do you know?' and Bright answered, 'It was an encounter, ma'am.

Mr Lionel was coming out from the master's room and Miss Henrietta was'-he paused-'about to enter.'Miss Henrietta was about to enter. She could see it all, the child's hand raised to knock at the door and he coming out; the exchanged glance of hate, then his arm thrusting out to sweep her aside as usual.

Sometimes she would fall, sometimes she would just stagger back. But as she had grown older, there had been other times when she had literally attacked him, the last time tearing at his face and bringing the blood. Then, she had thought he would, in some way, have carried out his threat and had her put away, in spite of his father's opposition. And yet it was really the poverty of 494the house that had stayed his hand; although his standing in the county had sunk, it wasn't so low that he could risk bringing censure upon himself for putting his daughter into a common asylum.Victoria made a movement with her head, and Bright turned and went out; and within a moment or so she followed him.She always tapped on her father-in-law's door before entering the room and if she didn't hear him shout she would go straight in.William Filmore was propped up in bed. He seemed not to have aged over the years: in fact, his face had a fresh look and the mound of his stomach had definitely decreased. But his voice and manner had apparently remained the same, for he greeted her with, 'Why the hell don't you keep her out of his sight!''Tie her up again?''No. No; but keep an eye on her.'She made no reply to this last statement but, standing near the head of the bed, she said, as she always did, 'How are you this morning?'But instead of his usual reply, 'As you see

495me, as you see me,' he said, Too bloody well for my age. And it's your fault. If it wasn't for this damned leg.' He pointed down the bed to where the bedclothes were arranged over a cage above his legs. 'Your meanness to the cellar hasn't done much for it. And the same applies to the meals: wholesome, yes, but delectable, no.' His expression changing and his voice, too, he said quietly now, 'Sit down, woman, sit down.'Victoria hesitated a moment before pulling a chair to the side of the bed. Once she was seated he put out a thick blue-veined hand towards her but it reached only the ruffled edge of the counterpane, and this he patted before he said, 'He's at it again . . . the divorce business. A new proposal this time. He'll waive all rights to the child ... of course, in every other way but one; he's already done that. And he promised you an income almost double his last offer. Of course, you would have to find other quarters so that when I decide to kick the bucket he can bring his fat hog into this house, and her money would renovate it. I asked him why she keeps him on such a short rein now if she's willing to spend a fortune once he

496marries her, because it's as much as I can do to get that twenty pounds a month out of him. He spends as much on his horses. But he must have his horses. I told him to get rid of one of them at least. I asked him again, too, where he thinks they and the rest of us would have been if it wasn't for your allowance/He stopped talking and stared at her. Not one of her features had changed its expression, and there was a deep note of pity in his voice now as he said, 'My dear girl, and, you know, that's how I think of you in my mind. In spite of the structure you've built around yourself over the years, the girl is still there. I upbraid myself many a time, you know, for my manner towards you when you first came. I sometimes think I've passed into a simple-minded dotage, because, lying here most of my days, what can I do but think? Read and think. Yet, on looking back, I don't consider my life ill-spent. I lived it as I was bred to live it.'He had now looked away from her, and his head was nodding and his gaze directed down towards the counterpane as he said, There was enough money in my father's 497young days, and then in my growing up, to afford us to live like gentlemen. We followed a pattern.

All my ancestors had been cosseted from birth to grave: one played a little, one drank, a little or much according to taste, and one gambled and took risks. You know'-he was looking at her again-'people always associate gambling with cards or dice, even perhaps dominoes; they never associate it with gold mines; the very mention of a gold mine creates a mirage. And when that disappears, what have you? The result of greed: a falling house in which you find it impossible to pull your horns in and to live according to what's left in the coffers. No, that would be too much to ask. So you live on debt until you have to become servile to your grocer.' He now nodded at her as he added, 'You do with sixty pounds a month, my dear, what wasn't achieved with six hundred at one time. Give me your hand.'She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in his; and then he gripped it and said, 'You are lonely, my dear. You are lost for companionship of your own kind. Why don't you get in touch with her? She seemed a kindly creature in spite of her stiff make-498up. She was good to you for years, and is still good to you. If she wouldn't visit here, you could visit her. What do you say?'What could she say? How to explain to this old man how she felt? How could she say, she's the last person on earth I want to see. How could she say, at times I'm eaten up with hate of her, because it was she who brought me to this state in paying a man to marry me, a man who would have done anything . . . anything, rather than tie himself to a penniless girl had he been aware of the circumstances beforehand. But what did she do? She offered him two thousand a year. And why?

Because she wanted rid of me, for some reason or other she wanted rid of me. But she would have me think it was for my own good because otherwise I would have died for love , . , God in heaven! Died for love of that swine of a man.She turned her head away and looked towards the end of the room to where the sun was streaming in between the faded brocade curtains onto the equally faded and worn carpet.