The Mask of the Enchantress (8 page)

This she undoubtedly did and her own precious Jessamy was a part of my childhood and girlhood. It was Jessamy clothes which came to the vicarage and were made over for me. I was slightly taller, which would have made them short, but she was broader-shouldered and took them up more. Janet said it was child play to take them in a bit and there was better stuff in them than any that would find their way into this house from the shops.

ou look a sight better in them than Miss Jessamy,she would say and, coming from can-tell-a-lie Janet, that was gratifying.

So I was accustomed to wearing castoff clothes. I can remember very few that did not come via Jessamy. Spending such a lot of time with her, wearing her old garments, did make me become a part of her life.

There was one time when Aunt Amy Jane thought it was fashionable to send girls to school, and there was talk of our going. I was excited at the idea. Jessamy was terrified. Then Dr. Cecil, he who had suggested that there should be no other Seton child in the nursery but Jessamy, decided that she was not strong enough for a boarding school. er chest,was all he said. So no school it was, and as Jessamy chest was too weak to let her go, mine, strong as it might bend it had never given me or Dr. Cecil any indication that it was notould not take me there. Fees would have to be paid by Sir Timothy, and it was not to be thought of that I should be sent and paid for while his daughter remained at home.

When there was entertaining at Seton Manor, Aunt Amy Jane always did her duty and invited me. When she came to the vicarage she rode over in the carriage with a foot warmer in the winter and a parasol in the summer. On winter days she would pick up her beautiful sable muff and alight from the carriage while the Seton coachman held open the door with the utmost display of deference and she would march into the house. In the summer she would hand her parasol to the coachman, who would solemnly open it and hold it out in one hand while he helped her to alight with the other. I used to watch this ritual from one of the upstairs windows with a mixture of hilarity and awe.

My father would receive her in a somewhat embarrassed way. He would be frantically feeling for his spectacles, which he had pushed up on his head. They always slipped too far back and he would think he had put them down somewherehich he did now and then.

The purpose of her visit was certain to be me, because I was her Duty. She had no reason to bother herself about a man who owed his living to her benevolencer Sir Timothy, but all blessings which fell on our household came through her, of course. I would be sent for and studied intently. Janet said that Lady Seton did not really like me because I looked healthier than Miss Jessamy and reminded her of her daughter weak chest and other ailments. I was not sure whether Janet was right but I did feel that Aunt Amy Jane was not really fond of me. Her concern for my welfare was out of duty instead of affection, and I have never relished being the object of duty. I doubt anyone ever does.

e are having a musical evening next Friday,she said one day. nabel should come. She should stay the night as it will be late before it is over, and that will be much simpler. Jennings has the dress she will wear in the carriage. He will bring it in.

My father, struggling with his self-respect, said: h, that isn necessary, you know. I dare say we can buy a dress for Anabel.

Aunt Amy Jane laughed. I noticed that her laugh was rarely mirthful. It was usually intended to dismiss or denigrate the folly of the one to whom it was directed.

hat would be quite impossible, my dear James.When she said y dearthat was very often a term of reproach. I was struck by that. Laughter was supposed to express gayety; endearments were for expressing affection. Aunt Amy Jane turned them about. I supposed it came of being such an efficient, highly respectable, always-right sort of person. ou can hardly be expected to buy suitable clothes on your stipend.A repetition of the laugh as her eyes swept round our humble sitting room and mentally compared it with the fine hall at Seton Manor, which had been in the Seton family for hundreds of years with the gleaming swords on the wall and the tapestries which had been in the family for generations and were reputed to be Gobelins. o, no, James, leave this to me. I owe it to Susan Ellen.The hushed note in her voice indicated that she was speaking of the dead. t was what she would have wished. She would never have wanted Anabel to be brought up like a savage.

My father opened his mouth to protest but by this time Aunt Amy Jane had turned to me. anet can adjust it. It will be quite simple.Other people tasks always were in Aunt Amy Jane eyes. It was only those she undertook herself which demanded so much. She was regarding me somewhat malevolently, I thought. hope, Anabel,she went on, hat you will behave with decorum and not upset Jessamy.

h yes, Aunt Amy Jane, I will and I won.

I felt an irresistible desire to giggle, which I am afraid came to me quite frequently in the presence of a number of people.

My aunt seemed to sense this. She said in a low funereal voice: lways remember what your mother would wish.

I was on the point of saying that I was not sure what my mother would wish, for I was argumentative by nature, and I could never resist the temptation to get a point cleared up. I had heard from some of the servants at Seton Hall that my mother had not been at all the saint Aunt Amy Jane was turning her into. My aunt seemed to have forgotten that she had been so headstrong in making a marriage with a poor curate. The servants said that Miss Susan Ellen had been bit of a caution. Always got a finger in some pie and making a joke of it. Come to think of it, Miss Anabel, youe the spitting image of her.That was damning enough.

Well, I went to the musical evening in Jessamy watered silk, which was really very beautiful. Jessamy said: es, you look prettier in it than I did, Anabel.

She was a sweet girl, Jessamy was, which makes what I did to her all the more reprehensible. I led her into constant mischief. There was the affair of the gypsies, which will give you a good idea of what I mean.

We were forbidden to walk in the woods alone, but the very fact that the woods were out of bounds made them specially fascinating to me.

Jessamy did not want to go. She was the sort of girl who liked to do exactly what she was told; she saw it all as for her own good. Heaven knew that was the explanation given to us often enough. I was exactly the opposite; and I took a great delight in trying to prove which was the strongery powers of persuasion or Jessamy desire to keep to the paths of righteousness.

I invariably won because I went on worrying her until I did. So at length I persuaded her to venture into the woods where some gypsies were camping. We could have a quick look, I said, and go away before they saw us.

The fact that there were gypsies in the woods made it all the more important that we should not venture into them. However, I was determined and I taunted Jessamy with cowardice so mercilessly that at length she agreed to accompany me.

We came to a caravan. There was a fire smoking nearby with a pot boiling on it. It smelled quite good. Seated on the steps of the caravan was a woman in a torn red shawl and with brass rings in her ears. She was a typical gypsy, with a tangle of black hair and big sparkling dark eyes.

ood day to you, pretty ladies,she cried out when she saw us.

ood day,I replied, gripping Jessamy arm, for I had a feeling she was going to turn and run.

on be shy,said the woman. y! You are two fine little ladies. I reckon there a bonny fortune waiting for you.

I was enthralled by the prospect of looking into the future. I always have been. I could never then and cannot now resist a fortuneteller.

ome on, Jessamy,I said, dragging her forward.

think we ought to go back,she whispered.

ome on,I said, holding her firmly. She did not like to protest. She was afraid it might seem ill-mannered towards the gypsies. Jessamy was always considering what was good and bad manners, and she was terrified of committing the latter.

ow you two has come from the big house, I reckon,said the woman.

he has,I told her. from the vicarage.

h, holy, holy,said the woman. Her eyes were on Jessamy, who was wearing a fine gold chain with a gold locket in the shape of a heart attached to it. ell, my pretty,she went on, sure youe got a good fortune waiting for you.

ave I?I asked, holding out my hand.

She took it. oul be the one who makes her own fortune.

oesn everybody?I asked.

h, clever, are you? I see. Yes, we do with a little help from fate, eh? Youe got a great future, you have. Youl meet a tall dark stranger and youl sail across the seas. And gold yes, I see gold. Oh, youe got a great future, you have, missy. Now let me look at the other little lady.

Jessamy hesitated, and I held up her hand. I noticed how brown and grubby the gypsy was compared with Jessamy.

ooh. Now youe going to have the luck, you are. Youe going to marry a lord and have silk sheets to sleep in. Therel be gold rings on your fingers finer than this here chain.She had taken the chain in her other hand and was examining it. h yes, youe got a fine and bonny future before you.

A man had strolled up. He was dark like the woman.

ou been telling the ladiesfuture, Cora?he asked.

less their little hearts,she said softly, hey wanted to hear their fortunes. This little n comes from the big house.

The man nodded. I did not much like the look of him. His eyes were sharp like a ferret, whereas the woman was fat and comfortable-looking.

ope they crossed your palm with silver, Cora,he said.

She shook her head.

The little ferret eyes were gleaming. h, that terrible unlucky, that is. You must cross the gypsy palm with silver.

hat will happen if we don?I asked with curiosity.

t would all turn topsy-turvy. All the good would be bad. Oh, that terrible unlucky not to cross the gypsy palm with silver.

e haven got any silver,said Jessamy, aghast.

The man had his hands on the chain. He tugged at it and the clasp came undone. He laughed and I noticed what unpleasant teeth he had; they were black, like fangs.

It occurred to me that our elders had been right and it was unwise to go walking in the woods.

The man was holding up the chain and looking at it intently.

t my best chain,said Jessamy. t was given to me by my papa.

our papa is a very rich man. I reckon hel give you another.

hat was for my birthday. Please give it back to me. My mother will be angry if I lose it.

The man nudged the woman. reckon Cora would be angry if we didn have it,he said. ou see, she given you a service. She read your fortunes. Now that something that has to be paid for. You have to cross the gypsy palm with silver if you don terrible disaster will befall you. That so, ain it, Cora? Cora knows. She got the powers. She in touch with them that knows. The Devil a great friend of hers, too. He says to her, f any don treat you right, Cora, you just let me know.Well, telling fortunes without crossing the gypsy palm is all against the rule. But gold will do gold will do just as well.

Jessamy was standing as though transfixed with horror. She was staring at her chain in the man hands. I sensed danger. I could see his little eyes looking at our clothes, particularly Jessamy. She was wearing a gold bracelet too. It was mercifully hidden by her sleeve.

I suddenly knew we had to get away quickly. I seized her hand and dashed away, running as fast as I could, dragging her with me. From the corner of my eye I saw the man start after us.

The woman shouted. et m be. Don be a fool, Jem. Let m go, and put the horses on the van.

Jessamy was panting behind me. I stopped and listened. The man had taken Cora advice and we were not being followed.

e gone,I said.

o is my chain,said Jessamy mournfully.

el tell them he came up to us and snatched it.

hat not quite true,said Jessamy. Oh dear, I thought, these sticklers for the truth, how trying they could be!

e did snatch it,I insisted. e mustn tell them how far into the woods we went. Well just say he came up and snatched it.

Jessamy was very unhappy. However, I was the one who told the story, keeping to the truth as far as I could, not telling them how deeply we had penetrated into the woods and eliminating the woman and her fortunetelling.

There was great consternationore, I realized, because we had been molested, as Aunt Amy Jane put it, than because of the loss of the chain. They sent men into the woods, but the caravan had gone, though there were the wheel marks and the remains of the fire to show where they had been.

Aunt Amy Jane, who managed most things in the village as she did at Seton Manor, had respassers Will Be Prosecutedput up on signboards all over the woods, and from then on gypsies were not allowed to camp there. I felt overawed to contemplate that this had been brought about by my waywardness, but I consoled myself with the thought that I had not made a thief of the gypsy; he had been that already, so I did not feel there was anything much to worry about.

It was poor innocent Jessamy who worried. She blushed every time gypsies or fortunetelling were mentioned. We had acted a lie, she said, and the recording angel would make a note of it. It would have to be answered for when we got to heaven.

hat a long time yet,I comforted her. nd if God is what I think He is He won like that sneaking little recorder very much. It not nice spying on people and writing down what they do in a little book.

Jessamy was always expecting the heavens to open and God to inflict something terrible upon me. I used to reassure her that He had had plenty of opportunities and He hadn done anything so far, so it must mean that He thought I was not so very wicked.

Jessamy was unsure. Her life was fraught with fears and indecisions. Poor Jessamy, who had so much and never seemed to take advantage of it.

I was always very interested in Amelia Lang and William Planter. They had been a part of the vicarage household for as long as I could remember, and they had always been the same through the years. Then I discovered that there was, as Janet put it, omething between them.No sooner had I heard this than I was consumed with curiosity to discover what. I used to discuss it with Jessamy and make up all sorts of wild stories about them. William name delighted me. It was William Planter, which, I said to Jessamy, was a lovely name for a gardener. Now did he become a gardener because his name was Planter or was it just a joke of God or whoever had given him the name in the first place? For William came from a long line of Planters and they had all been noted for their skill in gardening.