CHAPTERI
Ifithadnotrainedon
en
acertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholeliv
lifewouldhavebeenentirelyanderledes
different.Shewouldhavegone,
med
withtherestofherklan
clan,toAuntWellington’sengagementpicnicog
andDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.Men
Butitdidrainandyoushallhøre
hearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofdet
it.Valancywakenedearly,in
den
thelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdaggry
dawn.Shehadnotsleptvery
godt
well.Onedoesnotsleep
godt
well,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,og
andunmarried,inacommunityog
andconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimpelthen
simplythosewhohavefailedtogetamand
man.DeerwoodandtheStirlings
havde
hadlongsincerelegatedValancytohåbløs
hopelessoldmaidenhood.ButValancyherself
havde
hadneverquiterelinquishedavis
certainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethatRomance
Romancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,indtil
untilthiswet,horriblemorning,da
whenshewakenedtothefaktum
factthatshewastwenty-nineog
andunsoughtbyanyman.Ay,
der
therelaythesting.Valancydidnotmindso
meget
muchbeinganoldmaid.After
alt
all,shethought,beingangammel
oldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasdreadfulasbeinggift
marriedtoanUncleWellingtoneller
oranUncleBenjamin,orendda
evenanUncleHerbert.What
sårede
hurtherwasthatshehadaldrig
neverhadachancetobenoget
anythingbutanoldmaid.Ingen
Nomanhadeverdesiredhende
her.Thetearscameintohereyesasshe
lå
laytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingmørke
darkness.Shedarednotletherself
græde
cryashardassheville
wantedto,fortworeasons.Shewas
bange
afraidthatcryingmightbringonet andet
anotherattackofthatpainomkring
aroundtheheart.Shehadhad
en
aspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherværre
worsethananyshehadhadendnu
yet.Andshewasafraidher
mor
motherwouldnoticeherredeyesatbreakfastog
andkeepatherwithminut
minute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.“Suppose,”
tænkte
thoughtValancywithaghastlygrin
grin,“Iansweredwiththeplainsandhed
truth,‘IamcryingbecauseIcannotblive
getmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherville
wouldbe—thoughsheisashamedhver
everydayofherlifeofhergamle
oldmaiddaughter.”Butof
selvfølgelig
courseappearancesshouldbekeptoppe
up.“Itisnot,”Valancy
kunne
couldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialstemme
voiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytotænke
thinkaboutmen.”Thethoughtofhermother’s
udtryk
expressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehaden
asenseofhumournobodyinherklan
clansuspected.Forthatmatter,therewereagood
mange
manythingsaboutValancythatingen
nobodysuspected.Butherlaughterwas
meget
verysuperficialandpresentlyshelå
laythere,ahuddled,futilelille
littlefigure,listeningtotheregnen
rainpouringdownoutsideandser
watching,withasickdistaste,den
thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintohergrimme
ugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewit
og
andhatedit.Theyellow-painted
gulv
floor,withonehideous,“hooked”tæppe
rugbythebed,withagrotesque,“hooked”hund
dogonit,alwaysgrinningathernår
whensheawoke;thefaded,dark-red
papir
paper;theceilingdiscolouredby
gamle
oldleaksandcrossedbycracks;den
thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;thebrown-paperlambrequin
med
withpurplerosesonit;thespotted
gamle
oldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedop
upontheinadequatedressing-table;thejarof
gammel
ancientpotpourrimadebyhermor
motherinhermythicalhoneymoon;den
theshell-coveredbox,withonebursthjørne
corner,whichCousinStickleshadmadeinherlige
equallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushion
med
withhalfitsbeadfringegone;den
theonestiff,yellowchair;det
thefadedoldmotto,“Gonemen
butnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsom
aboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldansigt
face;theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslong
forvist
banishedfromtheroomsbelow.Therewere
kun
onlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.One,an
gammel
oldchromoofapuppysidder
sittingonarainydoorstep.That
billede
picturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.Thatforlorn
lille
littledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedrivingregnvejr
rain!Whydidn’tsomeone
åbnede
openthedoorandlethimin?Det
Theotherpicturewasafalmet
faded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisekommer
comingdownastairway,whichTante
AuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertiende
tenthbirthday.Fornineteenyearsshe
havde
hadlookedatitandhadet
hatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedDronning
QueenLouise.Butshenever
turde
dareddestroyitorremoveden
it.MotherandCousinStickles
ville
wouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyudtrykte
expresseditinherthoughts,ville
wouldhavehadafit.Alle
Everyroominthehousewasgrimme
ugly,ofcourse.Butdownstairsappearanceswere
holdt
keptupsomewhat.Therewasno
penge
moneyforroomsnobodyeverså
saw.Valancysometimesfeltthatshe
kunne
couldhavedonesomethingforherværelse
roomherself,evenwithoutmoney,hvis
ifshewerepermitted.Buther
mor
motherhadnegativedeverytimidforslag
suggestionandValancydidnotpersist.Valancy
aldrig
neverpersisted.Shewasafraidto.
Her
mor
mothercouldnotbrookopposition.Mrs.Stirling
ville
wouldsulkfordaysiffornærmet
offended,withtheairsofen
aninsultedduchess.TheonlythingValancy
lide
likedaboutherroomwasthatshekunne
couldbealonethereatnatten
nighttocryifsheville
wantedto.But,afterall,whatdiditmatterif
et
aroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsove
sleepinganddressingin,wereugly?Valancywas
aldrig
neverpermittedtostayaloneinherværelse
roomforanyotherpurpose.Folk
Peoplewhowantedtobealene
alone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingog
andCousinSticklesbelieved,couldkun
onlywanttobealonefornogle
somesinisterpurpose.Buther
værelse
roomintheBlueCastlewasalt
everythingaroomshouldbe.Valancy,socowed
og
andsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinvirkelige
reallife,waswonttolade
letherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.Ingen
NobodyintheStirlingclan,eller
oritsramifications,suspectedthis,mindst
leastofallhermotherog
andCousinStickles.Theynever
vidste
knewthatValancyhadtwohomes—thegrimme
uglyredbrickboxofet
ahome,onElmStreet,og
andtheBlueCastleinSpain.Valancy
havde
hadlivedspirituallyintheBlå
BlueCastleeversinceshekunne
couldremember.Shehadbeen
et
averytinychildwhenshefandt
foundherselfpossessedofit.Altid
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shekunne
couldseeitplainly,withitsturretsog
andbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitssvage
faint,blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofet
afairandunknownland.Alt
Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatslot
castle.Jewelsthatqueensmight
have
haveworn;robesofmoonlight
og
andfire;couchesofroses
og
andgold;longflightsof
lavvandede
shallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,og
andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgår
goingupanddownthem;courts,marble-pillared,
hvor
whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessang
sangamongthemyrtles;hallsofmirrors
der
thatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsog
andlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofalle
all,forwhoseglancemendøde
died.Allthatsupportedher
gennem
throughtheboredomofherdayswasdet
thehopeofgoingonen
adreamspreeatnight.De fleste
Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingsville
wouldhavediedofhorrorhvis
iftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancygjorde
didinherBlueCastle.Foronethingshe
havde
hadquiteafewloversindet
it.Oh,onlyoneatatime.
En
Onewhowooedherwithal
alltheromanticardourofden
theageofchivalryandvandt
wonherafterlongdevotionog
andmanydeedsofderring-do,og
andwasweddedtohermed
withpompandcircumstanceinden
thegreat,banner-hungchapelofden
theBlueCastle.Attwelve,
denne
thisloverwasafairdreng
ladwithgoldencurlsandhimmelske
heavenlyblueeyes.Atfifteen,hewas
høj
tallanddarkandpale,men
butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,
drømmende
dreamy,spiritual.Attwenty-five,he
havde
hadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim,og
andafacestrongandrobust
ruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancy
aldrig
nevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlå
BlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herhelt
herohadhadreddish,tawnyhår
hair,atwistedsmileandamystisk
mysteriouspast.Idon’tsayValancy
vilje
deliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewdem
them.Onesimplyfadedawayas
anden
anothercame.Thingsareveryconvenientin
denne
thisrespectinBlueCastles.Men
But,onthismorningofherdag
dayoffate,Valancycouldnotfinde
findthekeyofherBlå
BlueCastle.Realitypressedonher
for
toohardly,barkingatherheelssom
likeamaddeninglittledog.Shewastwenty-nine,
ensom
lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelypige
girlinahandsomeclan,withnopastog
andnofuture.Asfarasshe
kunne
couldlookback,lifewasdrabog
andcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimson
crimsonorpurplespotanywhere.As
vidt
farasshecouldlookfremad
forwarditseemedcertaintobelige
justthesameuntilshewasintet
nothingbutasolitary,littlewitheredblad
leafclingingtoawintrybough.Det
Themomentwhenawomanindser
realisesthatshehasnothingtoleve
livefor—neitherlove,duty,purposeeller
norhope—holdsforherthebitterhed
bitternessofdeath.“AndIjust
nødt
havetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstoppe
stop.Imayhaveto
leve
liveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inen
akindofpanic.“We’re
alle
allhorriblylong-lived.Itsickensmeto
tænke
thinkofit.”Shewas
glad
gladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilytilfreds
satisfiedthatitwasraining.There
ville
wouldbenopicnicthatdag
day.Thisannualpicnic,whereby
Tante
AuntandUncleWellington—onealwaystænkte
thoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablyfejrede
celebratedtheirengagementatapicnic
picnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablemareridt
nightmaretoValancy.Byanimpish
tilfældighed
coincidenceitwasthesamedag
dayasherbirthdayand,efter
aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,ingen
nobodyletherforgetit.Meget
Muchasshehatedgoingtothepicnic
picnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertogøre oprør
rebelagainstit.Thereseemedtobe
noget
nothingoftherevolutionaryinhernatur
nature.Andsheknewexactlywhat
alle
everyonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.Onkel
UncleWellington,whomshedislikedog
anddespisedeventhoughhehavde
hadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”ville
wouldsaytoherinen
apig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”og
andthengooffintothebellowoflatter
laughterwithwhichheinvariablykonkluderede
concludedhisdullremarks.AuntWellington,ofwhomValancy
stod
stoodinabjectawe,wouldfortælle
tellheraboutOlive’snewchiffonkjole
dressandCecil’slastdevotedbrev
letter.Valancywouldhaveto
se
lookaspleasedandinterestedasifthedressog
andletterhadbeenhersorelseTante
AuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.Og
AndValancyhadlongagobesluttet
decidedthatshewouldratherfornærme
offendGodthanAuntWellington,fordi
becauseGodmightforgivehermen
butAuntWellingtonneverwould.Tante
AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablevane
habitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifhewereden
theonlymalecreatureinden
theworld,whocouldneverglemme
forgetthatshehadbeenastor
greatbeautyinheryouth,ville
wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowhud
skin—.“Idon’tknowwhy
alle
allthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.Da
WhenIwasagirlmyhud
skinwasrosesandcream.Iwascounted
den
theprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”Måske
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—ormåske
perhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’rebliver
getting,Doss!”Andtheneverybody
ville
wouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousidé
ideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossblev
gettingfat.Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancydisliked
men
butrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobemeget
verycleverandwasthereforeden
theclanoracle—brainsbeingnonefor
tooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldsandsynligvis
probablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarkasme
sarcasmthathadwonhimhisry
reputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusymed
withyourhope-chestthesedays?”Og
AndUncleBenjaminwouldasknogle
someofhisabominableconundrums,mellem
betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.“WhatisthedifferencebetweenDoss
og
andamouse?“Themousewishesto
skade
harmthecheeseandDosswishestocharme
charmthehe’s.”Valancyhadheardhim
spørge
askthatriddlefiftytimesog
andeverytimeshewantedtokaste
throwsomethingathim.Butshe
aldrig
neverdid.Inthefirstplace,
det
theStirlingssimplydidnotkastede
throwthings;inthesecondplace,
Onkel
UncleBenjaminwasawealthyog
andchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupindet
thefearandadmonitionofhispenge
money.Ifsheoffendedhimhe
ville
wouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereindet
it.Valancydidnotwanttobe
skåret
cutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.She
havde
hadbeenpoorallherliv
lifeandknewthegallingbitterhed
bitternessofit.Sosheenduredhisriddles
og
andevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesover
overthem.AuntIsabel,downright
og
anddisagreeableasaneastwind,ville
wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancykunne
couldnotpredictjusthow,forTante
AuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefandt
foundsomethingnewwithwhichtostikke
jabyoueverytime.AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,
men
butdidn’tlikeitsowellnår
whenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttohende
her.Valancyneversaidwhatshe
tænkte
thought.CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamed
efter
afterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofalle
allrelativesandfriendswhohaddøde
diedsincethelastpicnicog
andwonder“whichofusvil
willbethefirsttogå
gonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,AuntMildred
ville
wouldtalkendlesslyofhermand
husbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,fordi
becauseValancywouldbetheeneste
onlyoneshecouldfindtoputupmed
withit.Forthesame
grund
reason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysoncefjernet
removed,accordingtothestrictmåde
wayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—ahøj
tall,thinladywhoadmittedshehavde
hadasensitivedisposition,wouldbeskrive
describeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.Og
AndOlive,thewondergirlofden
thewholeStirlingclan,whohavde
hadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularitet
popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherskønhed
beautyandpresumeonherpopularitet
popularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofkærlighed
loveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Der
Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.Og
Andtherewouldbenopackingop
upofteaspoons.Thepackingupwas
altid
alwaysleftforValancyandFætter
CousinStickles.Andonce,sixyears
siden
ago,asilverteaspoonfromTante
AuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeentabt
lost.Valancyneverheardthe
sidste
lastofthatsilverteaspoon.Its
spøgelse
ghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilie
familyfeast.Oh,yes,Valancy
vidste
knewexactlywhatthepicnicville
wouldbelikeandshevelsignede
blessedtherainthathadsavedherfromit.Der
Therewouldbenopicnicthisår
year.IfAuntWellingtoncouldnot
fejre
celebrateonthesacreddayitselfsheville
wouldhavenocelebrationatall.Tak
Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.Da
Sincetherewouldbenopicnic
picnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,hvis
iftherainheldupintheom eftermiddagen
afternoon,shewouldgouptothelibraryog
andgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywas
aldrig
neverallowedtoreadnovels,men
butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.Theywere“naturebooks”—sothelibrarian
fortalte
toldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsog
andbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”SoValancywasallowedto
læse
readthem—underprotest,foritwaskun
onlytooevidentthatshenød
enjoyedthemtoomuch.Itwaspermissible,
endda
evenlaudable,toreadtoforbedre
improveyourmindandyourreligion
religion,butabookthatwasenjoyablewasfarlig
dangerous.Valancydidnotknow
om
whetherhermindwasbeingforbedret
improvedornot;butshe
følte
feltvaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearssiden
agolifemighthavebeenaanderledes
differentthingforher.Theyseemedtoherto
give
yieldglimpsesofaworldintosom
whichshemightoncehaveentered,selv
thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernu
now.Itwasonlywithinthe
sidste
lastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshavde
hadbeenintheDeerwoodbibliotek
library,thoughthelibrariantoldValancyat
thathehadbeenawell-knownforfatter
writerforseveralyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancy
havde
hadasked.“Nobodyknows.
Fromhisbookshe
må
mustbeaCanadian,butikke
nomoreinformationcanbehad.Hispublisherswon’t
sige
sayaword.QuitelikelyJohnFosteris
et
anomdeplume.Hisbooksareso
populære
popularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,selv
thoughIreallycan’tseewhatfolk
peoplefindinthemtorave
raveover.”“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”
sagde
saidValancy,timidly.“Oh—well—”
MissClarkson
smilede
smiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsige
sayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.Men
ButcertainlyFosterseemstovide
knowallthereistovide
knowaboutthem.”Valancydidn’t
vidste
knowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncanny
viden
knowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifeder
thatenthralledher.Shecould
næppe
hardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofamysterium
mysteryneverrevealed—somehintofastor
greatsecretjustalittlelængere
furtheron—somefaint,elusiveechoofdejlige
lovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Ja
Yes,shewouldgetany
newFosterbook.Itwas
en
amonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosikkert
surelyMothercouldnotobject.Valancy
havde
hadreaditfourtimes—shekendte
knewwholepassagesoffbyheart.And—she
næsten
almostthoughtshewouldgoog
andseeDr.Trentaboutat
thatqueerpainaroundthehjertet
heart.Ithadcomerather
ofte
oftenlately,andthepalpitationswereblive
becomingannoying,nottospeakofanlejlighedsvis
occasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Men
Butcouldshegotoseehimuden
withouttellinganyone?Itwas
en
amostdaringthought.NoneoftheStirlingsever
konsulterede
consultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilie
familycouncilandgettingUncleJames’godkendelse
approval.Then,theywenttoDr.Ambrose
Marsh
MarshofPortLawrence,whohavde
hadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.Men
ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh
Marsh.And,besides,shecouldnotgetto
Port
PortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,uden
withoutbeingtakenthere.Shedidnot
ville
wantanyonetoknowaboutherhjerte
heart.Therewouldbesuch
et
afussmadeandeverymedlem
memberofthefamilywouldkomme
comedownandtalkitover
overandadviseherandadvare
cautionherandwarnherog
andtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsog
andcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohavde
hadbeen“justlikethat”og
and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”Tante
AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadaltid
alwayssaidDosslookedlikeen
agirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“soklemte
pinchedandpeakedalways”;and
Onkel
UncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasen
apersonalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;og
andGeorgianawouldforebodeinhelt
perfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,kære
dearlittleDossisn’tlongfordenne
thisworld,I’mafraid”;and
Fætter
CousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhjerte
hearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatone
tonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveahjerte
heart;andOlive—Olivewouldmerely
se
lookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglysund
healthy,asiftosay,“Whyal
allthisfussoverafalmet
fadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhar
haveme?”Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’t
fortælle
tellanybodyunlessshehadto.She
følte
feltquitesuretherewasnoget
nothingatallseriouslywrongmed
withherheartandnoneedofalle
allthepotherthatwouldensuehvis
ifshementionedit.She
ville
wouldjustslipupquietlyog
andseeDr.Trentthatverydag
day.Asforhisbill,she
havde
hadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfar
fatherhadputinthebanken
bankforherthedayshewasfødt
born.Shewasneverallowedto
bruge
useeventheinterestofthis,men
butshewouldsecretlytakeud
outenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwas
en
agruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfyr
fellow,buthewasaanerkendt
recognisedauthorityonheartdisease,selv
evenifhewereonlyen
ageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.Dr.Trentwas
over
overseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttopension
retiresoon.NoneoftheStirlingclanhadever
gået
gonetohimsincehehadtoldKusine
CousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasalt
allimaginaryandthatshenød
enjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatronise
en
adoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottonævne
mentionthathewasaPresbyterianda
whenalltheStirlingswenttoden
theAnglicanchurch.CHAPTERII
Da
WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdør
door,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsyv
sevenandshemustgetop
up.Aslongasshe
kunne
couldremember,CousinStickleshadbanket
knockedatherdoorathalf-pastsyv
seven.CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeen
oppe
upsinceseven,butValancywasallowedtoligge
lieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygot
op
up,thoughshehatedgettingop
upmorethismorningthanevershehadfør
before.