The Shivering Sands by Victoria Holt Page B

room Alice was there.
    She said: “I came to tell you that you will be having dinner with Mother and me tonight, and that I will come and take you to her rooms at seven o’clock.”
    “Thank you,” I replied.
    “You look startled. Was Sir William kind to you?”
    “Yes. I played for him. I think he liked my playing. But I lost my way and met Miss Stacy.”
    Alice smiled understandingly. “She is a little…strange. I trust she did not embarrass you.”
    “She took me to her studio.”
    Alice was surprised. “You must have aroused her interest. Did she show you her pictures?”
    I nodded. “I saw one of you with Mrs. Stacy and Allegra.”
    “Did you? She didn’t tell us she was painting us. Is it good?”
    “It seems a perfect likeness.”
    “I should like to see it.”
    “She will surely show it to you.”
    “She’s a little odd at times. It’s because she was crossed in love. By the way did you notice anything strange about our names, Mrs. Verlaine?”
    “Your names?”
    “The three of us…your pupils?”
    “Alice, Edith, Allegra. Allegra is unusual.”
    “Oh yes, but the three of us together. They come into a poem. I like poetry. Do you?”
    “I like some,” I answered. “To which poem are you referring?”
    “It’s by Mr. Longfellow. Shall I say the bit I like? I know it by heart.”
    “Please do.”
    She stood beside me, her arms folded behind her back, her eyes lowered as she quoted:
“From my study, I see in the lamplight.
    Descending the broad hall stair
    Grave Alice and laughing Allegra
    And Edith with golden hair.
     
    A whisper and then a silence;
    Yet I know by their merry eyes
    They are plotting and planning together
    To take me by surprise.”
    She lifted her eyes to my face and they were shining. She said: “You see, laughing Allegra, Edith with golden hair , and I am grave , am I not? You see it is us.”
    “And you are planning to take someone by surprise?”
    She smiled her quiet little smile.
    Then she said with undoubted gravity: “I expect all of us surprise each other at some time, Mrs. Verlaine.”

3
    I dined that night with Mrs. Lincroft and Alice—Mrs. Lincroft herself doing the cooking for she had a small kitchen attached to her little suite of sitting room and bedroom. “I found it made it easier,” she explained, “when the family was entertaining, and now I often do it. It saves the servants trouble and I rather enjoy it. I think now that you have come, Mrs. Verlaine, you might take your meals here with me. Alice will join us when she does not dine with the family. Sir William very kindly invites her now and then. He may suggest you join them occasionally.” It was a pleasant meal and very well cooked. Alice sat quietly with us. I should always think of her as Grave Alice in future.
    Mrs. Lincroft spoke of Sir William’s illness and how he had changed since he had had his stroke a little less than a year ago.
    “His wife used to play the piano to him. When Mr. Napier came home I suppose he was reminded of the old days and that is why he thought of bringing music into the house again.”
    I was silent thinking how much Sir William must have loved his wife since he had banished music from the house after her death.
    “There are changes now,” went on Mrs. Lincroft. “And of course now that Mr. Napier and Edith are married there will be more.” She smiled. The one maid who was waiting on us had gone to the kitchen. She added: “It will be more like a normal household. And it is a relief to know that Mr. Napier has taken over the management of the estate since his return. He is very active; a first class horseman; in fact he rides everywhere. He is taking care of everything…magnificently. Even Sir William must agree to that.”
    I waited, but she seemed to realize that she had said too much. “Would you care for some more of this pie?”
    I thanked her and declined while complimenting her on its excellence.
    “Do you ride, Mrs. Verlaine?” she asked