Authors: Sara Seale
CHAPTER NINE
I
IN the flurry of Christmas preparations, Tina was able to forget the raw uncertainty which Belle had exposed in her cautious happiness. It could never be said that Tremawvan was ever disorganized by any occasion, but there was a flavor of preparation which caused meals to be a little late and a faint air of dishevelment in rooms where cards accumulated, and paper and string not always put away.
Brownie found many small jobs for Tina: there were days of cake-making, days of checking preserves and the crates of nuts and oranges which arrived by carrier, and on Christmas Eve Zachary brought a young conifer still sprinkled with snow into the hall to be dressed. Under Brownie
’
s militant generalship Tina saw little of Craig and it was not until the tree was finally finished late on Christmas Eve that she had a moment with him alone.
“
I
’
m exhausted,
”
she laughed, flopping on to the staircase and surveying the decorated hall with admiring eyes.
“
Brownie won
’
t let you have a thing out of place. She even remembers the exact angle of a piece of holly twenty years ago.
”
“
I believe you,
”
he said, looking down at her untidy hair with tender amusement.
“
We used to help her as
boys, Keverne and I, but it always had to be done her way. Brownie is a great stickler for tradition.
”
“
She enjoys every moment, bless her! I must say I
’
m longing to see the tree lighted up. It
’
s like a real fairy tale Christmas to have candles. Anywhere else you would just press a switch. It isn
’
t at all the same thing.
”
He came and sat on the stairs beside her, and their voices echoed faintly in the high, empty hall.
“
You have a feeling for old-fashioned things, haven
’
t you?
”
he said.
“
Well, you
’
ve come to the right house. There
’
s very little that
’
s modern about Tremawvan. Hey! What have you done to the statues? I
’
m sure Brownie didn
’
t sanction that!
”
One statue wore a wreath of mistletoe, another had a sprig of holly tucked behind one ear, while the third which stood on the landing bearing a torch wore a paper frill about its loins.
Tina giggled.
“
I did it after she
’
d gone to bed. Do you think she
’
ll be shocked?
”
“
Thoroughly! Brownie has a deep respect for those statues. She says they are the mark of a gentleman
’
s establishment.
”
He straightened a disordered strand of her long, fine hair and smiled at her affectionately.
“
It
’
s the first
time
I
’
ve ever known you play an impudent prank. You
’
re beginning to feel you belong now, aren
’
t you, Tina?
”
“
To Tremawvan?
”
“
Of course to Tremawvan.
”
She sighed, leaning against his shoulder, her eyes on the shining decorations of the tree.
“
Yes,
”
she said,
“
I suppose I must. Last year when I stayed with the Johnsons I helped with the decorations too, but it wasn
’
t the same.
”
“
Serve you right!
”
he said unfeelingly.
“
You should have come home.
”
“
I thought you didn
’
t want me,
”
she replied simply.
“
I thought this sort of Christmas was just a bother.
”
He was silent for a moment, feeling the closeness of the young body which rested against him and put out a hand to support her shoulders.
“
You thought a lot of things that weren
’
t true in those days, didn
’
t you?
”
he said then.
“
I don
’
t see how I was to know,
”
she answered, and was suddenly silent, remembering Belle
’
s taunts. There was no means ever of knowing, she thought. Pentreath motives, Pentreath wants were not as other people
’
s.
“
Craig
“
she began, but the things she wanted to
ask him would not easily form themselves into words that could be said.
“
Well?
”
The clear eyes clouded a little.
“
Nothing,
”
she said,
“
Shall I take the decorations off the statues?
”
“
No, leave them as they are. I don
’
t doubt Brownie will survive. You have a habit of beginning sentences you don
’
t finish. What were you really going to say?
”
She turned her head on his shoulder, feeling the unfamiliar roughness of his coat beneath her cheek.
“
It isn
’
t always easy—or sensible—to finish sentences. One sometimes speaks without thought,
”
she said.
“
That sounds like the caution I used to tease you about getting the upper hand,
”
he observed.
“
You
’
ve never teased me,
”
she replied seriously.
“
One doesn
’
t, you know, unless there
’
s fondness. It
’
s like taking liberties with places where you don
’
t belong.
”
The oil lamps in their sconces were burning low and the log in the great open chimney had smouldered to fine ash, throwing the staircase in shadow. In the darkness Craig seemed anonymous, a shoulder to lean upon, a voice to reply with impersonal gentleness as he did now.
“
How can you assess fondness if you don
’
t recognize it?
”
“
It
’
s not always easy,
”
she said.
“
Perhaps there are different kinds.
”
“
Very probably. Tina
—”
Light flooded suddenly
across the flags as a door opened and Belle came into the hall, carrying a lamp.
“
W-ell!
”
she drawled.
“
What a charming picture! How very surprising, Craig, to find you, of all people, canoodling on the stairs, or is Christmas making you feel sentimental?
”
Craig got to his feet instantly and as he moved away from her Tina was aware of the immediate change in him.
His face in the light of Belle
’
s lamp looked darkly sardonic and his voice held only distaste as he answered:
“
I
’
m not given to canoodling, as you call it, and I
’
m about as unsentimental as you are, Belle. Good night, T
ina
it
’
s time you were in bed.
”
He crossed the hall to the living-room and shut the door and Belle gave a little laugh.
“
Did I interrupt something?
”
she asked, then shook her head.
“
Really, Tina, Craig
’
s not a boy in his teens. You won
’
t make much headway with him by trying to work up a flirtation on the stairs. You
’
d better go to bed as he suggested. You
’
re looking all washed out and no wonder.
”
Tina rose to allow her stepmother to pass but she made no reply.
The silver balls on the tree leapt to fleeting life in the moving lamplight as Belle went up the stairs, but for Tina the beauty had gone from the tree, and the decorated statues looked merely silly. She turned dispiritedly at the foot of the stairs and followed in the wake of the moving lamp.
There was still snow on the ground on Christmas mo
rning, but not enough, B
rownie said, to make transport difficult for the miners and cannery workers in the afternoon. It was a tradition at Tremawvan to entertain the men and their families on Christmas Day with presents from the tree and a vast high tea at five o
’
clock. The dining-room was already prepared with extra leaves in the huge mahogany table and piles of fruit and sweetmeats and crackers heaped on the sideboard. This year, Brownie said, was a special occasion since it also celebrated the master of Tremawvan
’
s engagement, and Tina was to take special pains to make an impression on the wives and children.
“
I
’
m not very good at making impressions,
”
T
ina
laughed as they sat at breakfast.
“
I
’
ve always been well trained to keep in the background.
”
“
H
’
m,
”
said Brownie non-committally.
“
Well, that
’
s no bad thing if done right, but you
’
ll be on view, so to speak, today, Tina. You
’
ll be expected to behave like a gracious
hostess and not a gawky girl just out of school. They
’
ll all be watching you.
”
“
It sounds alarming,
”
Tina said and filled her mouth too full of toast and marmalade, which, as Brownie remarked, was not the effect to be desired.
Tina felt a little flat. Paper and string littered the table and the household presents had been duly opened and admired, but only she and Brownie were there to enjoy them. Belle was, as usual, breakfasting in bed, and Craig had gone out early to see one of his men who had been taken ill in the night. Without him it was not the same. Tina
’
s eager fingers itched to cut through string and tear off paper, but Brownie insisted on knots being undone, patiently and methodically, and the string rolled in neat little balls before each parcel was opened. There was no one to thank for Craig
’
s charming seed pearls which were fashioned so delicately that they looked like an intricate necklace of lace, and she scarcely thought she owed the choice of a privately printed collection of poems to Belle
’
s good taste. Only to Brownie could she express her gratitude and Brownie at the moment was busy with lists for the party and paid little attention.
Belle, when she came downstairs, was gracious over her own presents but unenthusiastic about Tina
’
s necklace.
“
Seed pearls,
”
she said, eyeing them without interest.
“
It wouldn
’
t have hurt my rich Cousin Craig to run to the real thing, but I suppose he thought it was hardly necessary. I expect he picked the least valuable thing from that wasted collection of his and sensibly saved his money.
”
“
He did not then! He spent a deal of trouble looking for something which would please Tina. I happen to know, Belle Linden, that piece is an antique and quite valuable,
”
Brownie snapped, but Belle only yawned.
“
I can
’
t help it. Seed pearls always remind me of aged aunts and cameos and antimacassars,
”
she said.
“
What time does this dreary gathering arrive this afternoon?
”
Brownie, snorting, swept Tina off to decorate the dining
room table, and so busy was she kept that she had no opportunity of thanking Craig for his gift until she met him at lunch. Then, under Belle
’
s malicious eyes she could do no more than thank him formally and a little colorlessly for the pearls.
The memory of the night before, of the tenderness which had changed so swiftly to distasteful hauteur, still remained with her, making her feel awkward, so that she was glad to keep out of his way and use the coming party as an excuse when he suggested she should sit down and talk to him for half an hour after lunch.