Authors: Sara Seale
Mark regarded him gravely.
“
If I really thought, Kilmallin, you would take a personal
interest in her, I
’
d feel happier,
”
he said.
“
Can I help it if my affections are with the boy? asked
Kilmallin
peevishly.
“
I tell you, Mark, I
’
m disappointed
in
both my children. Brian could have had anything he wanted of me, but he
’
s too scared to ask a favour, and Clancy—well, Clancy should have been my son. She would have
understood me.
”
“
Brian will be very different away from Agnes and living a normal boy
’
s life,
”
Mark said quietly.
“
I think you
’ll
have your son yet, Kilmallin. To me it
’
s tragic that you shouldn’t want a daughter.”
Once he
tried talking to Aunt Bea, but she disclaimed all responsibility for the children
’
s future.
“
There
’
s time enough yet—so many things
can
happen in a few months.
”
Her pale eyes were suddenly alert and very shrewd.
“
I think the remedy is probably
in
your own hands,
”
she added, and trailed vaguely out of the room.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SPRING came gently to Galway that year. The gales and storms of the winter seemed to have blown themselves out, and March slipped into April o quietly that it seemed as though spring had come in the night.
With the milder weather Clancy grew strong again. She and Mark, and sometimes Brian, accompanied Kevin to Duneen on market days. There was new life everywhere. Lambs played among the hills and in the south pasture where Conn
’
s yearlings had been, cows and their calves lay in the fresh spring grass. The new owners of Slievaun had settled in, and Aunt Bea had called, but Clancy would not go.
Towards the end of April, Conn and Clodagh were married. They all went to Dublin for the wedding, and it was a gay affair, with Clodagh looking prettier than ever, and Conn almost unrecognizable in mo
rn
ing-coat and striped trousers, with his red hair slicked down and dark with brilliantine.
“
Oh, Conn!
”
said Clancy, laughing,
“
how you
’
ve changed! You
’
d never go squelching through the bog now, looking for snipe!
”
But her cousin she kissed with great care so as not to disarrange her make-up, and wished her happiness with much affection.
It was the first family reunion for years, and Kevin and Aunt Kate forgot their differences and behaved admirably at the reception. Aunt Bea, pink with pleasure, renewed acquaintance with long-forgotten members of the family, and Mark had some difficulty in restraining Brian from eating too much and making himself sick.
He watched Clancy a little anxiously at first, thinking the occasion might be a strain for her, but she seemed gay and undisturbed, wearing the becoming new clothes her aunt had sent specially from Dublin, with
an air, the champagne giving bright colour to her pale little face, and he
realized that, for her, Conn had been lost long ago when he
had sold Slievaun.
Before they went back to Kilmallin, Kate Desmond had
a talk with Mark.
“
My brother is looking ill,
”
she said.
“
I was quite shocked when I saw
him
at the reception. Has he had any more attacks?
”
“
Not that I know of,
”
Mark said cautiously,
“
but he
’
s drinking far too much, I
’
m afraid, for the good of his
health. We can
’
t stop him.
”
“
So bad for the children,
”
Mrs. Desmond said, and added sharply:
“
Clancy
’
s matured a lot since her illness.
”
“
Yes, she
’
s growing up.
”
“
I hear you practically pulled her through.
”
“
Well, hardly that. She had excellent nursing.
”
“
H
’
m, it
’
s not what I heard. When do you go back to
England?
”
“
About August, I should
t
hink
.
”
“
H
’
m,
”
she said again,
“
pity.
”
Mark worked very little with Clancy now. He was putting in as much time as possible with Brian, bringing him up to public-school standard, and Clancy missed the familiar mornings in the schoolroom with Mark
’
s clipped English voice calling them to order.
“
Are you fed up with teaching me?
”
she asked him one afternoon when they had gone to Grania
’
s Cave to look for the coloured quartz which was sometimes to be found in the hills.
He glanced down at her, smiling.
“
Of course not. Why do you ask?
”
“
Because you never give me regular work now, I
’
m not
learning anything.
”
“
I
’
ve taught you all I can,
”
he told her.
“
You
’
re too old for schoolroom routine now. I must concentrate on Brian for the little time we have left.
”
For the little time we have left
...
The words struck
a
chill at her heart.
“
You should teach me all you can before—before you have to go,
”
she said.
He looked at her curiously.
“
Why, do you think I
’
m neglecting you, Clancy?
She turned to him passionately.
“
Yes, yes, I do. I never see you now.
”
They were sitting in the heather, just outside the entrance to the cave, and the May sunshine was warm on their faces. He pulled her into the circle of his arm.
“
Oh, Clancy.
”
he laughed.
“
You see me at meals and most afternoons. There was a time, you know, when your main idea was to avoid my company.
”
She leant against his shoulder, aware that she was being childish, and experienced an inexplicable desire to weep.
“
What
’
s got into you?
”
he asked, giving her a little shake.
“
I don
’
t know. The spring is much sadder than aut
umn,
I think.
”
His voice was gentle.
“
Yes, sometimes I
think
it is. But it
’
s almost summer, you know.
”
“
Almost summer,
”
she said,
“
and you
’
ll be gone.
”
He placed a hand under her chin, turning her face up to
hi
s, and saw she was nearly in tears.
“
Why, Clancy,
”
he said,
“
you mustn
’
t mind like this.
”
“
I do. I do mind,
”
she said, and blinked hard.
“
That time I was ill, Mark, you said you
’
d never leave me as long as I needed you. Well, I do need you. I need you badly.
”
His expression altered.
“
I
’
ve often wondered how much you remembered about that,
”
he said.
“
Do you remember anything else?
”
It was very quiet and very solitary up there in the
hills.
A lark rose, singing, into the clear air, and Clancy watched it for a moment in silence.
“
Yes,
”
she said, then,
“
I remember you saying that you wanted me. You wanted me so much, you said, that if I didn
’
t get well you would leave here because you couldn
’
t bear it without me. You did say that, didn
’
t you?
”
His face was impassive as he answered her.
“
Yes, I did say that.
”
“
Didn
’
t you mean it? Was it just because I was ill?
”
He was silent for a long moment, looking away over her dark head to the waters of Loch Sidhe. The brilliant green of the bog patches was a splash of lovely colour in the folds of the moor and the lark still sang with piercing sweetness, a tiny speck, now, in the tender spring sky.
“
Clancy,
”
he said, with slight hesitation,
“
in moments of crisis, one sometimes says things that one wouldn
’
t on a normal occasion.
”
She drew away from him.
“
Then you didn
’
t mean it.
”
“
No, I don
’
t mean to convey that. It
’
s only that—well, sometimes certain things are best forgotten for a little while.
”
He knew he was being clumsy. She did not understand an oblique approach, but she was not ready, he thought, to accept or reject a change in their old relationship, and he was not ready to make that change. That the change was already there, he was perhaps less aware than she.
She got up abruptly and went into the cave. He did not follow her, and presently she came back, holding in the palm of her hand a small lump of amethyst quartz.
“
Look,
”
she said.
“
Polished up, that will be very pretty. Brian will like it—he hasn
’
t got any amethyst ones.
”
There was colour in her cheeks and she kept her eyes steadily on the piece of quartz.
“
Yes, it
’
s pretty,
”
he said absently.
“
Clancy, I don
’
t want you to misunderstand me.
”
She still did not raise her eyes.
“
Why should I misunderstand you?
”
she replied.
“
My position is a little difficult. You
’
re still my pupil, you see.
”
“
Of course,
”
she said.
‘
Will you put this in your pocket for Brian, please? I think we should be going home now.
”
In the weeks which followed, he realized that he had bungled that incident badly, for she politely, and with a dignity he had not before suspected, withdrew herself from him. She performed such tasks as he set her without question or argument, but she no longer came to the tower room to
talk,
or to discuss an essay, and except for arranged expeditions or walks which included Brian, she went off on her own occasions and avoided being alone with him.
It was best, he thought at first, to let her alone, but as the weeks went by and she still withheld her confidence, he made efforts to re-establish the old companionship. June was a lovely month, with warm, cloudless days which held promise of a long, settled summer. There were race meetings, and bathing picnics to Kinross Sands and lobster teas at Mother Brady
’
s, and even Agnes could no longer protest at Brian
’
s inclusion in his sister
’
s pursuits, for he was strong now, and had, for the most part, forgotten to
think
about his health. Mark found that if Clancy wished to avoid any plan which excluded her brother it was perfectly easy for her to do so, and in the evenings when they sat out on the terrace with their coffee, there was always Aunt. Bea with her knitting making desultory conversation until she would announce that it was too cold for Clancy to sit there any longer without a coat and they would both go into the house.
To Mark it was a difficult period altogether. His own future plans were now cut and dried, but the completion of his partnership in George Bishop
’
s school left him with a feeling of finality. His year of indecision was over, but it brought him no present ease of mind. He had become too deeply involved with the household at
Kilmallin
to contemplate leaving them without a sense of loss; and there was Clancy.
He watched her, a little puzzled, and, at times, a little sad. She was growing up fast. Even her face had a new maturity and, on rare occasions, an odd, fleeting beauty. He thought that she was not very happy, and he wondered if this estrangement which she had forced upon both of them irked her as it did him.
One evening, they were sitting, as usual on the terrace, their coffee finished, and the light already
be
ginning to fade from the hill
s, when Aunt Bea said unexpectedly:
“
We shall miss you very much when you go, Mark. I hope you will come back and visit us.
”
Clancy moved restlessly, and Mark said:
“
I shall miss you all, too. I will surely come back if you want me.
”
He looked at Clancy as he spoke, but she made no comment.
“
Kevin will miss you, too,
”
Aunt Bea remarked, k
nit
ting without a pause, and sighed.
They fell silent, thinking of Kevin, shut away in
hi
s study, as he was most evenings now, and looking, at last, his full age.
“
Clodagh writes that she and Conn are very comfortably settled in their new house,
”
said Aunt Bea, not liking these sudden silences which had seemed so marked of late.
“
I must say that Conn is making a better showing at his job than I thought he would. My brother-in-law seems quite pleased with him. Clancy, don
’
t fidget, dear.
”
“
Are
you cold?
”
asked Mark.
“
No,
”
she replied.
Aunt Bea said with one of her rare flashes of humour:
“
If you had been a governess instead of a tutor, Mark, you would have seen to it that the child
’
s idle moments were occupied with sewing or knitting.
”