Sonnet to a Dead Contessa by Gilbert Morris Page A

didn’t bring any clothes this time, but I have a gift here in cash. Perhaps you can put it to good use.”
    “Yes, indeed! Praise the Lord, and thank you, Lady Trent. Gyp, we might know of someone who is in dire need.”
    “Always folks in dire need.”
    The door opened, and the two women turned to see Dylan stepping aside to allow Meredith to enter. Dylan was holding the little girl and said at once, “Why, Lady Margaret, it’s good to see you, and as always, you too, Lady Trent.”
    “It’s good to see you, Mr. Tremayne,” Margaret said, “and you, Mrs. Brice.”
    “Thank you, ma’am.” Meredith’s face lit up with a smile, and she put her hand with a sort of possessiveness on Dylan’s arm. “You’ll not believe what this man has done.”
    “I think I might believe anything of him,” Serafina said, eyeing the gesture carefully. “What is it?”
    “He’s found me a place to live and paid for it and given me money for food for myself and my little one.”
    “Now, Meredith, don’t be trumpeting all that about. You’re not supposed to let people know that.”
    “Oh, but, Dylan, so grateful I am to you. I didn’t know what I was going to do.” She looked up at him with something like adoration, and Dylan gave her a bright smile. “Well, I’m glad I was able to do something.” He turned and said, “We’ve come for Meredith’s things, and Guin’s too.”
    “I’ll go get them right now,” Meredith said. She started to take Guin with her, but Dylan smiled and said, “I’ll just hold this beautiful lady.”
    The child looked shy, but she reached up and put her hand on Dylan’s cheek. She pulled his head down and whispered something, and he laughed. “I’ll see about that.” He winked and said, “She’s interested in candy. Can you believe it?”
    The two women waited, and Meredith returned rather quickly. She moved to stand by Dylan and gave him an adoring look.
    “We’ll have to run along now,” Dylan said. “I want to get Meredith and Guin settled before dark.”
    “So good to see you again, Lady Trent, and you, Lady Margaret.”
    The two left, with Serafina and Margaret following behind them.

    Irene was preparing David for the trip home as Margaret and Serafina enjoyed a few more minutes together. Margaret leaned over and picked up a cup and drained it. “Those three children can tire a person out. If we didn’t have servants to help—and Irene, of course—I couldn’t handle it.”
    “Well, they are a handful,” Serafina said. “It’s so nice of you to invite us over. While you were away, David was so lonely for playmates.”
    “We’re going to have to see that our children have more opportunities now that we’re back.” Margaret put the cup down and gave her a critical look. “Did you notice how that woman hung on to Dylan?”
    “Yes, I noticed.”
    “Rather peculiar, wasn’t it?”
    “Women are always drawn to him, Lady Margaret. You saw them at the play.”
    “Maybe Welshwomen are just more free with men.”
    “That may well be.”
    Margaret saw that Serafina did not want to talk about it. She had her own thoughts about this woman whom she dearly loved, and she half suspected that there was more to Serafina’s feelings for Dylan than she would admit to. Finally she stretched and said, “I admire Dylan’s religion and his friends the same, Lorenzo and Gyp. What a strange name—Gyp.”
    “You admire that? They’re really enthusiasts.”
    “I think sometimes I would like to be a Methodist and do some shouting. I get so bored sometimes with our services in the Church of England, don’t you?”
    “You know I don’t have much religion. My father has educated most of that out of me.”
    Margaret leaned forward, and a serious light came into her face. “I think I need more of God like those people have.”
    Serafina was not able to answer. She, too, had been affected by the warmth of Dylan and his friends and the obvious pleasure they got out of