Dodie Smith - I Capture the Castle

warm.) Father and I sloshed down the lane with the Cottons to see the car hauled out--Rose couldn't come because of her tea-gown and Topaz

didn't seem to want to. There was much pleasant confusion, with the

Cottons flashing torches and everyone laughing and making the noises

horses expect, and then the car was safely on the road again. After

that, the good-byes were rather hurried, but both the Cottons said that they would see us again soon and I am sure that they meant it.

Stephen and Thomas took the horses back and Father and I trudged home in the rain. The boys took the lantern so it was very dark--I need

hardly say that our family hasn't possessed a working torch for years.

Father held my arm firmly and seemed wonderfully cheerful. I asked him what he thought of the Cottons and he said: "Well, I shouldn't think they'd dun us for the rent." Then he said he had forgotten how

stimulating Americans could be, and told me interesting bits about his American lecture tours. And he said Simon Cotton was the Henry James

type of American, who falls in love with England--" He'll make an admirable owner for Scoatney." The only Henry James novel I ever tried to read was What Maisie Knew, when I was about nine-- I expected it to be a book for children. We had a beautiful plum-colored edition of

James's works then, but of course it got sold with the other valuable books.

As soon as we got back to the castle Father went up to the gatehouse

room and I rushed to join the girls. They were talking excitedly Topaz had got over her quiet mood. She was sure Rose had made a hit, and

started to plan how to alter a dress for her, a real London dress that Rose has always admired. And they decided about cleaning the

drawing-room in case the Cottons called very soon. I said wasn't it

wonderful that Father actually seemed to like them. Through the back

windows of the gatehouse, we could see him sitting at his desk. Topaz said:

"It's happened--the miracle! He's going to start work again!"

Stephen and Thomas came back and I made Stephen drink the cocoa I'd

saved for him- I had to hold it ready to pour down the sink before he would take it. Then we went to bed.

Rose got all her clothes out and draped them over Miss Blossom, to see if any of them were better than she remembered. They were worse.

But even that didn't depress her.

We talked and talked. Suddenly I sat up in bed and said:

"Rose, we're working it up too much. We mustn't. Of course it'll be wonderful if we're asked to parties and things but--Rose, you couldn't marry that man with a beard ?"

"I could marry the Devil himself if he had some money," said Rose.

I am pretty sure she was remembering Simon Cotton's shadow; but as she didn't mention it, I didn't. There is no point in working up a thing

like that about a wealthy man.

After we had blown the candles out I made Miss Blossom talk I can never think of the sort of things she says unless I pretend she is really

saying them. When I asked her what she thought about it all, she

answered:

"Well, it's a start, girlies, there's no denying that. Now you just make the best of yourselves. Of course all these old clothes you've

draped over me won't help you much, but wash your hair and keep your

hands nice- that green stuff on them's funny for once but the joke's

over. And now you'd better think of your complexions and get some

beauty sleep."

Rose certainly took the hint about the dye; this morning she scrubbed and scrubbed her hands until she got it all off. She used our last

grains of scouring powder, so my dye will just have to wear off--it has now reached a gray stage which looks like dirt. Oh, I have just had an idea--after tea I shall attack myself with sand paper.

How quickly life can change! This time yesterday it was a wintery

blank--and now not only have we met the Cottons, but there is a real

hint of spring. From up here in the barn I can see blackthorn buds on the hedges ...... I have just discovered that by moving my head I can make the square opening, near the roof, frame different parts of the

lane--it is rather a fascinating game.

Oh! Oh, my goodness! They're here--the Cottons --they've just come

round the last bend of the lane! Oh, what am I to do his ....... They have gone past. There was no way I could warn Rose and Topaz- I

couldn't have got out of the barn without being seen. At least I know they are back from their walk because I heard Rose playing the piano

some time ago. But how will they be dressed his And, heavens, Rose was thinking of washing her hair! Never did we dare to hope the Cottons

would come this very day!

I watched them pass, through the hinge of the barn door; then

scrambled up on the chaff again and watched until they disappeared into the gatehouse passage. Ought I to go in his I want to, of course --but there is a huge hole in my stocking and my gym-dress is all dusty from the chaff ...... It must be half an hour since I wrote that last line.

I didn't go in.

I have been lying here on the chaff thinking of them in the

drawing-room with the log fire burning. It won't really matter if Rose did wash her hair, because it looks very beautiful when it is drying. I feel sure I did right to stay here--for one thing, I talk too much

sometimes. I must be desperately careful never to distract attention

from Rose. I keep telling myself it is real, it really has happened

--we know two men. And they like us- they must, or they wouldn't have come back so soon.

I don't really want to write any more, I just want to lie here and

think. But there is something I want to capture. It has to do with

the feeling I had when I watched the Cottons coming down the lane, the queer separate feeling. I like seeing people when they can't see me. I have often looked at our family through lighted windows and they seem quite different, a bit the way rooms seen in looking-glasses do. I

can't get the feeling into words-it slipped away when I tried to

capture it.

Simon Cotton's black beard looks queerer than ever by daylight,

especially now I have realized he isn't at all old--I should guess him to be under thirty. He has nice teeth and rather a nice mouth with a

lot of shape to it. It has a peculiar naked look in the midst of all

that hair. How can a young man like to wear a beard his I wonder if

he has a scar his His eyebrows go up at the corners.

Neil Cotton has such a charming face though no particular feature is

striking. Very nice hair, fairish, curly.

He looks very healthy;

Simon is a bit pale. They're both tall;

Simon a bit the taller, Neil a bit the broader. They don't look like

brothers, any more than they sound it.

Simon is wearing tweeds, very English-looking.

Neil is wearing a coat such as I never saw in my life before: checked back and front, but plain sleeves. Perhaps it was made out of two old coats -though I hope not, as that would show him to be poor and his

brother mean. And it looked rather a noisily new coat. I expect it's

just American.

They're coming out of the castle! Shall I run to meet them and just

shake hands? No, not with these gray hands--.

Something awful has happened- so awful that I can hardly bear to write it. Oh, how could they, how could they his As they came towards the

barn, I heard them talking. Neil said:

"Gosh, Simon, you're lucky to get away with your life."

"Extraordinary, wasn't it ?" said Simon.

"She didn't give that impression at all last night." Then he turned to look back at the castle and said: "What a wonderful place! But hellish uncomfortable. And they obviously haven't a cent. I suppose one can't blame the poor girl."