Виктория Холт - Lord of the Far Island

I was caught up in the excitement although I was not entirely pleased with my dress. Black was not one of my colors and the dress was severe and only just managed to creep into the ball-dress category. When I saw Esmeralda's beautiful concoction of frills and lace in a lovely sea blue that was almost green I was filled with envy. It was just the dress I should have loved. But of course it wasn't serviceable and would not stand up to the years as my velvet would.

The night before the ball I had dreamed once more of the room with the red carpet. There I was standing near the fireplace, and I heard the whispering voices as I always did. On this occasion they seemed nearer and then suddenly that feeling of doom overtook me and I was staring at the door—and this was new—it started to open. A terrible fear possessed me then. I could not take my eyes from that door. Very slowly it moved and I knew that whatever it was I dreaded was behind it.

Then I woke up. I was trembling and sweating with fear. It had been a very vivid dream. It always was but on this occasion the overtaking doom had come a little nearer.

I sat up in bed. How silly to be so scared by a dream and a dream of nothing really... just a room.

I saw then that the door of my wardrobe had come open and I fancied a figure swayed there. I felt the horror come sweeping back over me. Then I saw that it was the black ball dress hanging there. I must have omitted to fasten the door securely.

I lay back and admonished myself. It was only a dream. But why did I go on dreaming this same frightened dream year after year?

I tried to shake off that feeling of approaching disaster. How could I? It was six weeks since I had been interviewed by Mrs. Oman Lemming; the time was approaching.

But this coming night would be that of the dance. True, I only had a black gown which I didn't like, but it was adequate. I loved to dance. I was so much more adept than Esmeralda, who had little sense of rhythm. I would put the thought of Mrs. Oman Lemming from my mind.

During that morning a little box arrived, and to my amazement it was addressed to me. Rose brought it up; she had taken it in at the servants' entrance.

"Look at this, Miss Ellen," she said. "It's for you. My word, admirers, is it!"

And there it was nestling into its protective box, a most beautiful and delicate orchid with a pinkish mauve merging tinge. It was just the decoration I needed to liven up my black dress.

I thought, It's from Esmeralda! and hurried to thank her.

She looked blank. "I wish I'd thought of it, Ellen. It is just right for your dress. I thought there'd be flowers for anyone who wanted them."

"But not for poor relations," I responded; I was not bitter with Esmeralda, who was always most kind, just happy because I had my orchid.

I enjoyed trying to think who had sent it to me. I thought it must be Cousin William Loring because I had fancied he was a little uneasy at my going away to work for Mrs. Oman Lemming and Rose told me that she had heard him say to the mistress that there was no need for me to go.

"He rather suggested that when Esmeralda married she might like to take you with her as a sort of companion and secretary perhaps because once Philip gets into his stride he is going to have a very busy life and his wife will have to do a great deal of entertaining. I don't think he liked the idea of your going but She was firm about it."

So it seemed very likely that the orchid had come from kind Cousin William.

It was beautiful and there was no doubt that it transformed my dress. I no longer felt dowdy. Esmeralda gave me a pin with a small solitary diamond with which to hold it in place. I dressed with special care, piling my hair high on my head. I thought I looked quite elegant.

Esmeralda looked pretty in her magnificent gown but she was nervous, very conscious that she was the reason for the ball's being given and she was apprehensive at the notion of receiving a proposal.

"I wish we didn't have to grow up, Ellen," she said. It was clear that the prospect of a grand marriage appalled her. "They all think I'm going to marry Philip, but I never thought he liked me very much. After all, he did push me into the Serpentine."

"That was when we were children. Men often fall in love with girls they've not noticed when they were children."

"But he did notice me... enough to push me into the water."

"Well, if you don't want to marry him you can always say no."

"But you see, Mama wants it and ..."

I nodded. What she wanted she usually got.

I comforted her. Her father would be on her side, so there was no reason why she should marry anyone if she didn't want to.

I had received instructions a few days before from Cousin Agatha. "You will make yourself useful, Ellen. In the supper room make sure that people are well served. Keep your eyes especially on Lady Emily, and see that she is well looked after. I shall find one or two gentlemen to whom I shall introduce you, and perhaps they may ask you to dance."

I could visualize the evening. Ellen the Poor Relation—in somber black to distinguish her from the real guests. "Ellen, do tell Wilton we need more salmon." Or "Ellen, poor old Mr. Something is sitting alone. Come and let me introduce you. He may ask you to dance." And there would be Ellen stumbling round with rheumaticky old Mr. Something when her feet longed to be gliding over the floor with a kindred spirit.

How different it was. Not at all what I had dreaded. Right from the first Philip was beside me.

"So you received my orchid," he said.

"Yours!"

"No one else would send you flowers, I hope."

I laughed, for he and I had always been special friends.

We danced together. I wondered if Cousin Agatha noticed and hoped so. How well our steps fitted! I knew they did because we used to dance together in the country—jigs we made up as we went along.

"Did you know I was here tonight as the Poor Relation?" I asked.

"What does that mean?"

"That I have to keep my eyes open for neglected guests."

"That's all right. You keep your eyes on me, for if you don't I shall feel very neglected."

"And you... one of the Carringtons!" I mocked.

"But only a younger son."

"Is Great Rollo here tonight?"

"Great Rollo is far away. He's hardly ever here."

"That makes you the catch of the season, I suppose."

"Listen," he said. "Let's talk. I've a good deal to say to you. Where can we get away to be quiet?"

"There are one or two smaller rooms on this floor. They have been set aside for private conversations."

"Let's go then."

"Ought you, or more important still, ought I? Cousin Agatha's eagle eyes will be searching for me soon if she has some aging gentleman who might care to amble round the floor with me."

"All the more reason why you should escape."

"Is this a game? We are not fourteen any more, remember."

"Thank heaven for that, and it's deadly serious."

"Is something wrong?"

"It could be quite the reverse, but I must talk to you, Ellen."

We sat in one of the small rooms in which were pots of plants, a settee and a few chairs. I sat on the settee and Philip was beside me.

"Ellen," he said, "I've been hearing things. Your servants talk to ours and ours to yours. These people know as much of our affairs as we do ourselves. More perhaps. The whispers indicate that you are indeed going away to be a governess to those odious Oman Lemming children."

"I've told you it's true."

"I didn't really believe it. You ... a governess!"

"The only occupation for a young lady of some gentility, education and no money."

"But why... after all these years?"

"Cousin Agatha was doing her duty to the defenseless child. Now the child has become a woman and must fend for herself, so she is being given a gentle but very firm push into the cruel world."