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965when I lost you; but in a strange way it was a good thing. It's like an operation: I was cut open and I saw all my bad bits. But the awful thing is I knew I couldn't do much about them. They were part of me. I had a kind of disease and that disease was you, and it was the means of ruining me. For years, Joseph, I was unhappy living side by side with you in that house, knowing that I had lost your love and that it was through my own fault. But that pain was nothing to what I've endured since I left the house and you, and the fact that you had found love somewhere else almost destroyed me. Yet, at the same time it was strange that I was unable to put the whole blame on you. In fact, no part of it, for I had a lot of time in which to look back on our lives together and I realized that right from the beginning ... I wanted ... I wanted; without giving, I wanted; and my mother aided me in this way. Whatever I wanted I got; except she never wanted me to have you, because she had this fixation about your father. And what is so unfortunate, Joseph, is, I'm still wanting. But . . . but I think, in a different way, more understanding. I know what I want and it isn't that

966money, it's . . . it's . . .' Her voice broke, her head went low and her whole body began to tremble, and when a hard sob came from her throat, he got up swiftly and sat down beside her on the sofa and, taking her hand, he said, 'Oh, don't, Amy. Don't give way. It's all right, I'll do whatever you want in this matter about the divorce or . . .''I ... I don't , . , I don't want a divorce.''You don't? But . . . but you stand to lose all that money!'She lifted her head and turned her tearstained face towards him. 'Joseph.''Yes, Amy?''Will . . . will you take me back? I'll . . . I'll be different. I won't demand. I'll do anything you ask: keep in the background or the foreground, anything. I'm so lonely, Joseph, lost. Lost . . . Oh, Joseph.'When his arms went about her, her head fell on his shoulder and the emotion in her body shook his own, and when she began to gasp for breath and almost choke and her unintelligible words became a wail, he rocked her backwards and forwards as he would have a child, saying, 'There, there, 967now. There, now. It's all right. It's going to be all right.'His own eyes were moist now, and his heart was battering against his ribs as his mind told him she would have to come back with him no matter how he felt.Well, how did he feel? The answer was, lonely. In a way, he was as lonely as she was; and she had changed, she was different. He had never imagined the Amy he knew making a confession of her faults as she had done.Still gasping, tears still spouting from her eyes, she pulled herself away from him and, her words jerking from her mouth, she said, 'I ... I didn't mean ... I ... I meant to be ... calm . . . and ask you.'He took a handkerchief from his pocket, and his voice, too, was thick now as he said, 'Come on. Dry your eyes.' And as he wiped her face her hand covered his and she muttered, 'I ... I promise, I . .

. I . . .''No more. No more. There's no need to promise anything. You're going home . . . You're coming home.' He patted first one cheek, then the other, saying, 'John said he 968wanted a matron to run the place. He always knows what he's doing, that fellow.''Oh Joseph!

Joseph!''Now, now. No more. But do you really know in your own mind what you're throwing away?'She shook her head slowly now, saying, 'I'm not throwing anything away, because I never had it in the first place.'He stood up and held out his hands, saying, 'Come on. I'll go and phone the children.

They'll be delighted. Now you go upstairs and pack a case, just your necessary things. You can come back later, or what you need can be sent on, and while you're up there I'll go in the kitchen and talk to the others. I'll explain that this house will have to be sold; and two of them are ready for retirement in any case, I should imagine. But the rest, I'll find work for them up at our place or somewhere. You have nothing to worry about. Go on now.'She didn't move but she stood still before him, and, her voice breaking, she said simply, 'Joseph! Oh, Joseph!' And such was the look in her eyes and the pleas in her voice that his heart was stirred as she had never

969stirred it for years and, bending towards her, he again took her face between his hands and gently he kissed her on the lips.THE END

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LARGE PRINTFIG.COOKSON, CATHERINETHE BLACK CANDLE.v.2"Keen th NT£DlNUSA31 S. BBADY STREET DuBOTS, PA. 15801

(continued from front flap)characters, Bridget unexpectedly becomes involved with the two brothers of a declining aristocratic family and their resounding legacies of good and evil, love and hate, privilege and deprivation that unfold over three generations. With her special insight into the enduring struggles between the classes, Cookson provides an engaging portrait of a small village and the tumultuous lives of its people. The Black Candle is a wonderfully entertaining and moving novel in the unequaled tradition of Catherine Cookson, with its true-to-life characters, gripping drama, and tender romance. And with the creation of the strong-willed, true-hearted Bridget Mordaunt, Cookson has given us a timeless heroine whose courage and wisdom will inspire generations to come.Jacket design and illustration copyright ©

1990 by Wendell MinorPrinted in the U.S.A.

The black oandle /LG PRINT FIC COQKSQKB04J.0B0S5905SCookson, Catherine DuBois PL

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