Philippa Carr: Lament for a Lost Lover

But I hope to see you before long, dear Arabella. In the meantime keep your spirits up. At least you are in safety where you are and you are old enough to remember what it was like in those days at Far Flamstead and even later at Trystan.

Much love to you and always remember that you are ever in my thoughts.

Your devoted mother,

Bersaba Tolworthy.

I could see her as I read the letter. I had admired her fervently from my earliest years. She had always seemed so strong, and my hazy thoughts of those far-off days were dominated by her, the leading spirit who seemed omnipotent and omniscient guiding us all.

Dearest mother! I wondered what she would think of Harriet.

She would have understood immediately that she was deceiving us, I was sure. My mother had always been very wise in the ways of the world.

I wrote a letter for the rider to take back when he left the next day.

I hesitated as to what I should say about Harriet and this was an indication of what Harriet’s presence in the house had done for me. For I was now thinking of prevaricating, telling half-truths, whereas before I should not have dreamed of withholding anything from my mother.

Yet what if I had told the bald truth! Strolling players came and one of them pretended to hurt her ankle so badly that she could not travel. She stayed behind and is now living here. She teaches us to act and sing and dance.

I believe my mother would have left everything to come and see what it was all about. A strolling player! An actress who had schemed to stay. She would never approve of that.

How could I explain the charm of Harriet, the fascination, the irresistible allure? Yet I must say something. Not to tell her would be quite deceitful; yet to tell her everything that happened would alarm her.

I pondered. It was the first time it had not been completely easy and natural to take up my pen and write to my mother just as I would talk to her if she were here.

At last I wrote:

My dear mother,

I was happy to receive your letter and I shall hope to meet the Eversleighs. I daresay they will call on us first. We are quite able to entertain them here. Marianne and Jeanne are very good and they like people to come here. I expect it is a little dull for them.

Some people called here during the snowy weather because they could not continue with their journey. Of course we gave them shelter and with them was a young woman. She is very talented. She sprained her ankle on our stairs and when the others had to leave, for they had business in Paris, she asked if she could stay behind as she was unable to walk. She is very lively and handsome and comes from England like the rest of us. She saw how we were placed since Miss Black’s death and how Lucas and I were trying to teach the children and she offered to stay and help teach them in exchange for bed and board.

I accepted her offer and it has proved very satisfactory. She is very knowledgeable about literature, English and French, and she is teaching them these and how to speak well and sing and dance. The children all adore her. You would laugh to see Fenn. He is very gallant to her and she was very touched when he brought her the first crocus. Angie and Dick rush to sit next to her and you would have been amused had you seen the little play we did a few nights ago. The Lambards and the servants were our audience, and even Fenn had a part. Everyone enjoyed it and the children are still talking of it.

Of course Harriet Main arranged it all and we should never have thought of it—or been able to do it—without her.

I think you will be pleased to hear that she is with us because I know you have been worried since Miss Black died.

It would be wonderful to see you and my father. Oh, if only we could all be together in our own home. It is good to know that you are well and perhaps soon it will come to pass.

Your loving daughter,

Arabella Tolworthy

I read through my letter. I had told no lies. I was sure she would think it was good that we had a kind of governess even if she were not another Miss Black. I couldn’t help smiling at the comparison. There could not have been two people less like each other.

I half hoped my mother would return. I should be interested to hear what she thought of Harriet. And at the same time I was afraid that she would … which showed, of course, that I had my suspicions about the fascinating creature.

The next day the messenger went off with our letters. I stood at the watch window in one of the towers so that I could see him for as long as possible.

It was a small room, rarely used, with a long narrow slit of a window; the only furniture was an old table and chair. There was a seat cut into the side of the aperture where one could sit while looking out.

As I turned to leave, the door opened and Harriet came in.

“I saw you come up,” she said. “I wondered where you were going.”

“I was just watching the rider.”

“Going away with all those letters you have written to your family.”

“We look out for arrivals now and then and hope that they will be our parents. But the messenger with letters is the next best thing.”

She nodded.

“He brings and takes,” she mused. “And you give them all the news?”

“Some of it.”

“You have told them I am here?”

“But of course.”

“They’ll want me to go.”

“Why should they?”

“A player. An actress. They won’t like that.”

“I didn’t tell them that you were an actress.”

“What, then?”

“Oh, I said you came with a party of people and because of the snow you had to stay here. You hurt your ankle and stayed on and then said you would help teach the children for a while. That’s how it happened, wasn’t it?”

“So you didn’t tell them everything.”

I did not meet her eye. “I told them no lies,” I defended myself. “And I said how fond the children are of you and that they are attending to what you teach them and how we did our little play.”

She laughed suddenly and threw her arms about me.

“Dear Arabella!” she cried.

I extricated myself with some embarrassment. I felt I was growing a little like her. I was no longer the innocent girl I had been, always so natural with my parents.

“Let’s go down,” I said. “What a gloomy old place this is. Imagine a man sitting up here all day watching to see who was coming, and giving the alarm if it was an enemy.”

“They must have had a lot of enemies to make watching a full-time occupation.”

“Oh, he watched for friends as well. And he composed songs while he watched. Watchers were always minstrels so I heard.”

“How interesting!” She slipped her arm through mine as we went to the top of the spiral staircase. “Nice of you to give a good account of me,” she went on. “You would have aroused their fears had you told them I was an actress who contrived to remain here. Good. Now we shall not have to put a watcher at the tower to look for anxious parents. Sometimes it is helpful to tell a little of the truth when the whole could be disturbing.”

We went downstairs.

I was a little uneasy. Yet I knew that I should be very unhappy if my parents had wanted to send her away.

That night she came to my room for another of our talks. I think the letter I had written to my mother made her more sure of me than she had been.

She took her seat near the mirror; her hair hung loose about her shoulders. I thought her very lovely. I could see myself reflected in the mirror. My thick, straight brown hair was also loose, for I had been about to brush it when she knocked at my door. I was very like my mother and I knew she was an attractive woman. I had inherited her vitality, her finely marked brows and deeply set, rather heavy-lidded eyes, but I felt my brown hair and eyes were insipid beside Harriet’s vivid colouring, but then, I consoled myself, most people would seem colourless in comparison.