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Authors: Joan Aiken
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not regard a birth certificate as a necessary proof of identity? ”
“ Hardly, in view of all the rest, I should have thought. ” Philadelphia replied, raising her own brows. “ However, if you think it necessary, I am sure a copy can readily be obtained from the Record Office. I had not been aware that it was missing until I set out to come here. My mother, of—of late years—has become somewhat absentminded and scatterbrained—she tends to lose articles. ”
“ Has ? ” Mr. Penistone ’ s brows shot even higher, if possible. “ You are telling us, ma ’ am, that your mother is still alive ?”
“ She was when I left London—no thanks to any help or kindness she has received from this family! ” Philadelphia retorted bitterly. “ It is on her account that I came hither. Permit me to say that if it were only for myself, I would have bitten my tongue off at the roots, sooner than make application— ”
Mr. Penistone ’ s lips silently formed a word that would have been interpreted as Humbug ! But he only said,
“ And, pray, why did your mother not come with you? I assume that the lady who fell into the moat is not your mother? ”
“ Certainly not—I should think you could see that! ” Delphie said angrily. “ She is Miss Baggott—a—a friend who has been so good as to bear me company on the journey. My mother was unable to come because she has been extremely ill, Mr. Penistone, at death ’ s door, in fact. Moreover, she holds this family in detestation. I have come without her knowledge .”
“ I am sorry to hear it, ” he replied coldly, and fell silent, sipping his wine, studying her over the rim of his glass. She could not help being aware that Mr. Fitzjohn was doing likewise, and a flush crept into her pale cheeks.
“ Am I right in assuming that my great-uncle—that Lord Bollington is here in the house? ” she asked. “ May I inquire whether it will be possible for me to see him presently? ”
“ No. It will not be possible, Miss—Carteret, ” Penistone replied with harsh finality.
Delphie ’ s flush turned to a burning spot on either cheekbone at this flat rebuff. However, controlling herself, she inquired in a level tone,
“ Oh? May I ask why not? ”
Mr. Penistone ’ s lips parted as if he were about to make some derogatory remark about impudent imposters. But Fitzjohn restrained him with a murmured word, and a hand on his arm; he said shortly,
“ You cannot see my uncle because at this moment he is dying. ”
“ Oh ! ”
After one soft, gasping sigh, Delphie was silent, turning over this utterly unforeseen situation in her mind. She found it hard to withstand a deep sense of chagrin and exasperation at her own dilatoriness. Had she but thought of taking this journey six months ago—even one month ago—or at any time during the last five years! But, she reminded herself, there would still have been no guarantee of a favorable outcome—though it could hardly have been less favorable than her chances appeared at present.
The elderly manservant, Fidd, appeared in the doorway and s tood, urgently signaling to Mr. Fitzjohn with his eyes.
“ Begging your pardon, Mr. Fitz, ” he murmured, “ Dr. Bowles has left master now, and Mr. Wylye is with him, and he wishes you to step up to his chamber. Also master ’ s been asking for the last hour if Miss Elaine is come yet. What shall I say? ”
“ Thank you, Fidd—I will come up myself, directly. Where is Dr. Bowles? ”
“ He ’ s a-gone to the young lady what fell in the water, sir. ”
“ Ah—yes. Ask if he will be so good as to come to the library before he takes his departure, will you? And serve him with some refreshment. ”
“ Yes, sir. ”
Both men went out; Mr. Penistone and Miss Carteret were once more left alone together.
“ Tell me, sir, ” she began, since he showed no disposition to speak, “ why are you so rigidly disposed to put no credence in my story? ”
“ Why? ” He raised his
“ Hardly, in view of all the rest, I should have thought. ” Philadelphia replied, raising her own brows. “ However, if you think it necessary, I am sure a copy can readily be obtained from the Record Office. I had not been aware that it was missing until I set out to come here. My mother, of—of late years—has become somewhat absentminded and scatterbrained—she tends to lose articles. ”
“ Has ? ” Mr. Penistone ’ s brows shot even higher, if possible. “ You are telling us, ma ’ am, that your mother is still alive ?”
“ She was when I left London—no thanks to any help or kindness she has received from this family! ” Philadelphia retorted bitterly. “ It is on her account that I came hither. Permit me to say that if it were only for myself, I would have bitten my tongue off at the roots, sooner than make application— ”
Mr. Penistone ’ s lips silently formed a word that would have been interpreted as Humbug ! But he only said,
“ And, pray, why did your mother not come with you? I assume that the lady who fell into the moat is not your mother? ”
“ Certainly not—I should think you could see that! ” Delphie said angrily. “ She is Miss Baggott—a—a friend who has been so good as to bear me company on the journey. My mother was unable to come because she has been extremely ill, Mr. Penistone, at death ’ s door, in fact. Moreover, she holds this family in detestation. I have come without her knowledge .”
“ I am sorry to hear it, ” he replied coldly, and fell silent, sipping his wine, studying her over the rim of his glass. She could not help being aware that Mr. Fitzjohn was doing likewise, and a flush crept into her pale cheeks.
“ Am I right in assuming that my great-uncle—that Lord Bollington is here in the house? ” she asked. “ May I inquire whether it will be possible for me to see him presently? ”
“ No. It will not be possible, Miss—Carteret, ” Penistone replied with harsh finality.
Delphie ’ s flush turned to a burning spot on either cheekbone at this flat rebuff. However, controlling herself, she inquired in a level tone,
“ Oh? May I ask why not? ”
Mr. Penistone ’ s lips parted as if he were about to make some derogatory remark about impudent imposters. But Fitzjohn restrained him with a murmured word, and a hand on his arm; he said shortly,
“ You cannot see my uncle because at this moment he is dying. ”
“ Oh ! ”
After one soft, gasping sigh, Delphie was silent, turning over this utterly unforeseen situation in her mind. She found it hard to withstand a deep sense of chagrin and exasperation at her own dilatoriness. Had she but thought of taking this journey six months ago—even one month ago—or at any time during the last five years! But, she reminded herself, there would still have been no guarantee of a favorable outcome—though it could hardly have been less favorable than her chances appeared at present.
The elderly manservant, Fidd, appeared in the doorway and s tood, urgently signaling to Mr. Fitzjohn with his eyes.
“ Begging your pardon, Mr. Fitz, ” he murmured, “ Dr. Bowles has left master now, and Mr. Wylye is with him, and he wishes you to step up to his chamber. Also master ’ s been asking for the last hour if Miss Elaine is come yet. What shall I say? ”
“ Thank you, Fidd—I will come up myself, directly. Where is Dr. Bowles? ”
“ He ’ s a-gone to the young lady what fell in the water, sir. ”
“ Ah—yes. Ask if he will be so good as to come to the library before he takes his departure, will you? And serve him with some refreshment. ”
“ Yes, sir. ”
Both men went out; Mr. Penistone and Miss Carteret were once more left alone together.
“ Tell me, sir, ” she began, since he showed no disposition to speak, “ why are you so rigidly disposed to put no credence in my story? ”
“ Why? ” He raised his
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