Laura Schlitz - Splendors and Glooms

Parsefall looked blank. Lizzie Rose only sobbed.

“I suppose not,” Clara said, answering her own question. She patted Lizzie Rose’s shoulder. “Never mind, dearest, we’ll manage. There must be a road somewhere, and we can ask . . .” Her voice trailed away, as if she, too, felt daunted by the problems ahead. She turned to Parsefall. “Have you found any sugar for your sister’s tea?”

Parsefall began mechanically, “She ain’t my true sister —”

Clara slapped his face.

The slap shocked all three of them. Parsefall stepped back with his hand to his cheek. Lizzie Rose cried, “How dare you?” and leaped to her feet, ready to fly at Clara.

Clara spoke up fiercely. “He oughtn’t to say that,” she said. “Parsefall, you mustn’t, do you hear me?” Her voice softened. “He doesn’t mean to be unkind,” she told Lizzie Rose. “It’s just that he had another sister, who died in the workhouse. Her name was Eppie.”

“Eppie?” echoed Lizzie Rose.

“That was her name, wasn’t it?” Clara asked Parsefall. “Eppie was his true sister, and she was very good to him. Parsefall’s loyal. He doesn’t want to forget her — but you mustn’t say that anymore, Parsefall, because Lizzie Rose is your true sister. I’ve seen her fight for you and share her food and hold your head when you’re sick. There isn’t anything truer than that.”

Parsefall cast a hangdog look at Lizzie Rose. Lizzie Rose knew this for the apology it was and forgave him at once. “Oh, Parsefall!” she cried — but all at once, they heard a bell ringing, and Ruby began to bark.

“It’s Madama,” Lizzie Rose said breathlessly, but the placard under the ringing bell read FRONT DOOR. “Perhaps it’s Mrs. Fettle coming back. Or even the doctor —” She snatched up her skirts and ran.

Parsefall and Clara trailed after her. Neither of them cared to admit it, but the idea that an adult had come to the house was reassuring. An adult would know where the village was and what to do about Madama.

“Clara!” shrieked Lizzie Rose. “Your papa! Oh, Clara, Clara !”

Clara was a little behind Parsefall. Now she flashed past him like a falling star. She flew up the stairs and through the rooms and across the tiles of the Great Hall. She flung herself at her father, and he lifted her and spun her in circles. There was a great confusion of sound: shouting and sobbing and Ruby barking, accompanied by sympathetic noises from Lizzie Rose. The front door stood open, and a cold draft roared in.

Parsefall shivered. He wished someone would shut the door. He considered doing it himself but held back; in order to get to the door, he would have to pass through what seemed a great crowd of weeping, rejoicing people. He remained in the shadow of the stone columns, watching the scene with his hands in his pockets.

“Mrs. Wintermute, ma’am! Oh, Dr. Wintermute, help me!” Lizzie Rose ran to support Clara’s mother. “Oh, please, sir — she’s quite faint!”

Clara broke away from her father and rushed to her mother’s side. Dr. Wintermute caught his wife before she fell and dragged her to the staircase. He ordered her to sit with her head between her knees. “Oh, poor Mamma,” breathed Clara while her mother wailed, “Oh, Clara, my dearest, why did you run away? How could you be so cruel?”

Clara was speechless. Parsefall stepped out from behind the column. “She didn’t run away,” he said coolly. “She woz kidnapped and locked in the tower.”

Clara flashed him a look of intense gratitude.

“In the tower that fell down last night.” Parsefall pointed in the direction of the ruin. “Grisini kidnapped ’er and locked ’er up all right and tight. And the tower woz fallin’ down, an’ everyone said not to go near it. Didn’t they, Lizzie Rose?”

Lizzie Rose picked up her cue. “Oh, yes, they did!”

“I didn’t know where I was,” Clara said, taking up the thread of the tale. “All I knew was that I couldn’t get out. But Lizzie Rose and Parsefall were suspicious of Grisini, and they came to Strachan’s Ghyll to find me.”

Parsefall grinned, appreciating the fact that he had just been promoted to the role of rescuer. “So then we come.” He crossed to the door and slammed it shut, enjoying the bang. “We ’ad our suspicions, didn’t we, Lizzie Rose? We followed Grisini up ’ere, and we looked for Clara, but we didn’t go into the tower, ’cos it was too dangerous and might fall down.”

“But I escaped,” explained Clara. “There was a loose board and I pried it open with a rusty nail. Then Grisini came after me — and it was dark, and I was running away from the house, and he chased me out onto the frozen lake. It was only last night,” she said, amazed that it had all happened so recently.

“And there was an earthquake,” Lizzie Rose put in. “It made the ice break and the tower fall —”

“And Grisini fell through the ice — and I should have fallen, too, only Lizzie Rose called out to me and told me to lie flat. And Parsefall brought me a rope — he walked across the ice as it was cracking into pieces. He saved my life!”

Clara drew herself out of her mother’s embrace and stood erect. She stretched out her hands, and the other two children stepped forward, as if the three of them were playing a scene they had rehearsed.

“Papa, Mamma,” said Clara, clinging to Lizzie Rose’s hand, “this is my sister. And Parsefall is my brother.” She extended her other hand, and Parsefall gripped it tightly. “They set me free and they saved my life. They’re my brother and sister, now and forever. They must come back with us and live with us in Chester Square.”

Dr. Wintermute looked bewildered. Mrs. Wintermute stopped in mid-sob.

“Only, Papa, dear Papa, you mustn’t send Parsefall to school or make him be a gentleman,” Clara went on. “He doesn’t want to be a doctor, do you, Parsefall? He wants to be an apprentice with the Royal Marionettes. You could arrange that, couldn’t you, Papa? And then someday he’ll have his own theatre.”

Parsefall nodded emphatically, squeezing her fingers.

“But Lizzie Rose can be a lady,” Clara said coaxingly, “because she’s going to inherit Strachan’s Ghyll. Madama — the woman who lives here — is going to leave her estate to Parsefall and Lizzie Rose. So Lizzie Rose will be an heiress, and we can have lessons together from Miss Cameron. And Parsefall will work during the day, but he’ll come home every evening, so we can be together.”

Her parents continued to look stupefied. Lizzie Rose intervened. “Clara,” she said, “I don’t think this is the time —”

“There is no other time.” Clara’s face was implacable. “Please, Mamma, say you agree! Please say that Parsefall and Lizzie Rose may come and live with us! I want them so — oh, Mamma, please!”

Mrs. Wintermute began to weep again. It didn’t seem to Parsefall that this was any kind of an answer, but it seemed to satisfy Clara. She flew at her mother and kissed her rapturously. “Oh, Mamma, dear Mamma! Oh, thank you! Oh, we’re going to be so happy!”

Mrs. Wintermute’s face was a study. She was smiling tremulously, but her face was pale. She touched the tips of her fingers to her forehead and gasped for breath.

“Clara,” said Lizzie Rose reproachfully, “we ought to give your mamma a glass of wine. There’s some in Madama’s room — oh!” She turned to Dr. Wintermute, clasping her hands. “Oh, Dr. Wintermute, please, won’t you come upstairs and see Madama? She lives here and she’s very ill, and it wasn’t her fault Grisini kidnapped Clara, and the servants have all left. We’ve been so worried! But thank goodness, you’re a doctor, so if you would just come and examine her —”