CHAPTERI
Ifit
had
hadnotrainedonacertainMei
MaymorningValancyStirling’swholeleven
lifewouldhavebeenentirelydifferent.She
zou
wouldhavegone,withtherest
restofherclan,toTante
AuntWellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.Trentzou
wouldhavegonetoMontreal.Maar
Butitdidrainandyoushallhoren
hearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofhet
it.Valancywakenedearly,inthe
levenloze
lifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdageraad
dawn.Shehadnotsleptvery
goed
well.Onedoesnotsleep
goed
well,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonde
themorrow,andunmarried,inagemeenschap
communityandconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimpelweg
simplythosewhohavefailedtokrijgen
getaman.Deerwoodand
de
theStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancytohopelessoude
oldmaidenhood.ButValancyherself
had
hadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,kleine
littlehopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untildeze
thiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtohet
thefactthatshewastwenty-nineen
andunsoughtbyanyman.Ay,
daar
therelaythesting.Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeing
een
anoldmaid.Afterall,she
dacht
thought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasverschrikkelijk
dreadfulasbeingmarriedtoeen
anUncleWellingtonoranOom
UncleBenjamin,orevenanOom
UncleHerbert.Whathurtherwas
dat
thatshehadneverhadakans
chancetobeanythingbutanoude
oldmaid.Nomanhadever
verlangd
desiredher.Thetearscameintohereyesasshe
lag
laytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingduisternis
darkness.Shedarednotletherself
huilen
cryashardasshewilde
wantedto,fortworeasons.Shewas
bang
afraidthatcryingmightbringonanotheraanval
attackofthatpainaroundhet
theheart.Shehadhadaspellofit
nadat
aftershehadgotintobed—rathererger
worsethananyshehadhadyet.En
Andshewasafraidhermoeder
motherwouldnoticeherredeyesatontbijt
breakfastandkeepathermet
withminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingtheoorzaak
causethereof.“Suppose,”thoughtValancy
met
withaghastlygrin,“Iansweredmet
withtheplaintruth,‘Iamhuil
cryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’Hoe
HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedelke
everydayofherlifeofheroude
oldmaiddaughter.”Butof
natuurlijk
courseappearancesshouldbekeptup.“Itisnot,”Valancy
kon
couldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialstem
voiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”De
Thethoughtofhermother’suitdrukking
expressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehad
hadasenseofhumourniemand
nobodyinherclansuspected.For
die
thatmatter,therewereagoodveel
manythingsaboutValancythatniemand
nobodysuspected.Butherlaughterwas
heel
verysuperficialandpresentlyshelag
laythere,ahuddled,futilelittlefiguur
figure,listeningtotherainpouringdownbuiten
outsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,meedogenloze
mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,smerige
sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessof
die
thatroombyheart—knewiten
andhatedit.Theyellow-painted
vloer
floor,withonehideous,“hooked”tapijt
rugbythebed,withagroteske
grotesque,“hooked”dogonit,altijd
alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;het
thefaded,dark-redpaper;the
plafond
ceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksen
andcrossedbycracks;the
smalle
narrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;thebrown-paperlambrequin
met
withpurplerosesonit;de
thespottedoldlooking-glasswithde
thecrackacrossit,proppeduponde
theinadequatedressing-table;thejarof
oude
ancientpotpourrimadebyhermoeder
motherinhermythicalhoneymoon;de
theshell-coveredbox,withonegebarsten
burstcorner,whichCousinStickleshad
hadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushion
met
withhalfitsbeadfringegone;de
theonestiff,yellowchair;het
thefadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”werkte
workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoude
oldface;theoldphotographsofancientrelatives
lang
longbanishedfromtheroomsbeneden
below.Therewereonlytwopictures
die
thatwerenotofrelatives.One,an
oude
oldchromoofapuppyzit
sittingonarainydoorstep.Die
ThatpicturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.Die
Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonde
thedoorstepinthedrivingregen
rain!Whydidn’tsomeone
geopend
openthedoorandlethimin?De
Theotherpicturewasavervaagde
faded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisecomingdowneen
astairway,whichAuntWellingtonhad
hadlavishlygivenheronhertiende
tenthbirthday.Fornineteenyearsshe
had
hadlookedatitandgehaat
hatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedKoningin
QueenLouise.Butshenever
durfde
dareddestroyitorremovehet
it.MotherandCousinStickles
zouden
wouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,zouden
wouldhavehadafit.Elke
Everyroominthehousewaslelijk
ugly,ofcourse.Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Er
Therewasnomoneyforroomsniemand
nobodyeversaw.Valancysometimes
gevoel
feltthatshecouldhavedoen
donesomethingforherroomherself,zelfs
evenwithoutmoney,ifsheweretoegestaan
permitted.Buthermotherhadnegatived
elke
everytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotvolharden
persist.Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewas
bang
afraidto.Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirling
zou
wouldsulkfordaysifoffended,met
withtheairsofaninsultedhertogin
duchess.TheonlythingValancylikedabouther
kamer
roomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnighttohuilen
cryifshewantedto.Maar
But,afterall,whatdiditmatterals
ifaroom,whichyougebruikte
usedfornothingexceptsleepingen
anddressingin,wereugly?Valancywas
nooit
neverpermittedtostayaloneinherkamer
roomforanyotherpurpose.Mensen
Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingen
andCousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywillen
wanttobealoneforsomesinistere
sinisterpurpose.Butherroomin
het
theBlueCastlewaseverythingeen
aroomshouldbe.Valancy,socowed
en
andsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinechte
reallife,waswonttolaten
letherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.Niemand
NobodyintheStirlingclan,of
oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermoeder
motherandCousinStickles.They
nooit
neverknewthatValancyhadtwee
twohomes—theuglyredbrickdoos
boxofahome,onElmStreet
Street,andtheBlueCastleinSpain.Valancyhad
leefde
livedspirituallyintheBlueKasteel
Castleeversinceshecouldherinneren
remember.Shehadbeena
heel
verytinychildwhenshefoundherselfbezeten
possessedofit.Always,whenshe
sloot
shuthereyes,shecouldzien
seeitplainly,withitsturretsen
andbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,gewikkeld
wrappedinitsfaint,blueloveliness,tegen
againstthesunsetskiesofeen
afairandunknownland.Alles
Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasindat
thatcastle.Jewelsthatqueensmight
hebben
haveworn;robesofmoonlight
en
andfire;couchesofroses
en
andgold;longflightsof
ondiepe
shallowmarblesteps,withgreat,witte
whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupen
anddownthem;courts,marble-pillared,
waar
whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingaleszongen
sangamongthemyrtles;hallsofmirrors
die
thatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsen
andlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,forwiens
whoseglancemendied.Allthatsupportedher
door
throughtheboredomofherdayswasthehoop
hopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.Meeste
Most,ifnotall,ofde
theStirlingswouldhavediedofverschrikking
horroriftheyhadknownhelft
halfthethingsValancydidinherBlauwe
BlueCastle.Foronethingshe
had
hadquiteafewloversinit.Oh,onlyoneata
keer
time.Onewhowooedher
met
withalltheromanticardourofthetijdperk
ageofchivalryandwonherna
afterlongdevotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,en
andwasweddedtohermet
withpompandcircumstanceinthegrote
great,banner-hungchapeloftheBlauwe
BlueCastle.Attwelve,this
minnaar
loverwasafairladmet
withgoldencurlsandheavenlyblauwe
blueeyes.Atfifteen,hewas
lang
tallanddarkandpale,maar
butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,
dromerig
dreamy,spiritual.Attwenty-five,he
had
hadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrimmig
grim,andafacestrongen
andruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancy
nooit
nevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlauwe
BlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herheld
herohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,een
atwistedsmileandamysterieus
mysteriouspast.Idon’tsayValancy
opzettelijk
deliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.Ene
Onesimplyfadedawayasandere
anothercame.Thingsareveryconvenientin
dit
thisrespectinBlueCastles.Maar
But,onthismorningofherdag
dayoffate,Valancycouldnotvinden
findthekeyofherBlauwe
BlueCastle.Realitypressedonher
te
toohardly,barkingatherhielen
heelslikeamaddeninglittlehond
dog.Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—the
enige
onlyhomelygirlinaknappe
handsomeclan,withnopasten
andnofuture.Asfarasshe
kon
couldlookback,lifewasdraben
andcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonof
orpurplespotanywhere.Asfarasshe
kon
couldlookforwarditseemedzeker
certaintobejustthehetzelfde
sameuntilshewasnothingbuteen
asolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoeen
awintrybough.Themomentwhen
een
awomanrealisesthatsheheeft
hasnothingtolivefor—neitherliefde
love,duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitterheid
bitternessofdeath.“AndI
gewoon
justhavetogoonlivingomdat
becauseIcan’tstop.Imayhaveto
leven
liveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,ineen
akindofpanic.“We’reall
verschrikkelijk
horriblylong-lived.Itsickensmeto
denken
thinkofit.”Shewas
blij
gladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfieddat
thatitwasraining.There
zou
wouldbenopicnicthatdag
day.Thisannualpicnic,whereby
Tante
AuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysdacht
thoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablyvierden
celebratedtheirengagementatapicknick
picnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,een
averitablenightmaretoValancy.By
een
animpishcoincidenceitwasthedezelfde
samedayasherbirthdayen
and,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,niemand
nobodyletherforgetit.Muchasshe
haatte
hatedgoingtothepicnic,itzou
wouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.Er
Thereseemedtobenothingofhet
therevolutionaryinhernature.En
Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonezou
wouldsaytoheratde
thepicnic.UncleWellington,whomshedisliked
en
anddespisedeventhoughhehad
hadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”zou
wouldsaytoherineen
apig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingtrouwen
marriedyet,mydear?”andthen
gaan
gooffintothebellowoflachen
laughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhissaai
dullremarks.AuntWellington,ofwhomValancy
stond
stoodinabjectawe,wouldvertellen
tellheraboutOlive’snewchiffonjurk
dressandCecil’slastdevotedbrief
letter.Valancywouldhavetolookaspleased
en
andinterestedasifthejurk
dressandletterhadbeenhersorelseTante
AuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.En
AndValancyhadlongagobesloten
decidedthatshewouldratherbeledigen
offendGodthanAuntWellington,want
becauseGodmightforgivehermaar
butAuntWellingtonneverwould.Tante
AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablegewoonte
habitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheenige
onlymalecreatureinthewereld
world,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagrote
greatbeautyinheryouth,zou
wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowhuid
skin—.“Idon’tknowwhy
alle
allthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.Toen
WhenIwasagirlmyhuid
skinwasrosesandcream.Iwascounted
het
theprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”Misschien
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—ormisschien
perhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”En
Andtheneverybodywouldlaughoverhet
theexcessivelyhumorousideaofarme
poor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.Handsome,
plechtige
solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedmaar
butrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeerg
verycleverandwasthereforetheclan
clanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldwaarschijnlijk
probablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasme
sarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputatie
reputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusymet
withyourhope-chestthesedays?”En
AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisafschuwelijke
abominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,en
andanswerthemhimself.“Whatis
het
thedifferencebetweenDossandeen
amouse?“Themousewishesto
schaden
harmthecheeseandDosswil
wishestocharmthehe’s.”Valancy
had
hadheardhimaskthatraadsel
riddlefiftytimesandeverykeer
timeshewantedtothrowiets
somethingathim.Butshe
nooit
neverdid.Inthefirst
plaats
place,theStirlingssimplydidnotgooien
throwthings;inthesecond
plaats
place,UncleBenjaminwasarijke
wealthyandchildlessoldwidoweren
andValancyhadbeenbroughtupinde
thefearandadmonitionofhisgeld
money.Ifsheoffendedhimhe
zou
wouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.Valancydidnot
wilde
wanttobecutoutofOom
UncleBenjamin’swill.Shehadbeenpoorallher
leven
lifeandknewthegallingbitterheid
bitternessofit.Soshe
verdroeg
enduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedkleine
littlesmilesoverthem.AuntIsabel,
ronduit
downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind
wind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancykon
couldnotpredictjusthow,forTante
AuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shevond
foundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyouelke
everytime.AuntIsabelpridedherselfon
zei
sayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenandere
otherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttohaar
her.Valancyneversaidwhatshe
dacht
thought.CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorge
de
theFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofalle
allrelativesandfriendswhohadgestorven
diedsincethelastpicnicen
andwonder“whichofuszal
willbethefirsttogonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,
Tante
AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherman
husbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,omdat
becauseValancywouldbetheenige
onlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.For
de
thesamereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstNeef
CousinGladysonceremoved,accordingtode
thestrictwayinwhichde
theStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,dunne
thinladywhoadmittedshehad
hadasensitivedisposition,wouldbeschrijven
describeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.En
AndOlive,thewondergirlofthehele
wholeStirlingclan,whohadalles
everythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldlaten zien
showoffherbeautyandpresumeonherpopulariteit
popularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofliefde
loveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Er
Therewouldbenoneofalldit
thistoday.Andtherewouldbe
geen
nopackingupofteaspoons.Het
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyen
andCousinStickles.Andonce,
zes
sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfromTante
AuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenverloren
lost.Valancyneverheardthe
laatste
lastofthatsilverteaspoon.Its
geest
ghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.Oh,
ja
yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatde
thepicnicwouldbelikeen
andsheblessedtheraindie
thathadsavedherfromit.Er
Therewouldbenopicnicdit
thisyear.IfAuntWellington
kon
couldnotcelebrateontheheilige
sacreddayitselfshewouldhebben
havenocelebrationatall.Bedank
Thankwhatevergodstherewerefordie
that.Sincetherewouldbe
geen
nopicnic,Valancymadeupherminddat
that,iftherainheldupinde
theafternoon,shewouldgouptode
thelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sboek
books.Valancywasneverallowedto
lezen
readnovels,butJohnFoster’sboeken
bookswerenotnovels.Theywere“naturebooks”—sothe
bibliothecaris
librariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allover
aboutthewoodsandbirdsen
andbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”SoValancywasallowedto
lezen
readthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooduidelijk
evidentthatsheenjoyedthemtooveel
much.Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,to
lezen
readtoimproveyourminden
andyourreligion,butaboek
bookthatwasenjoyablewasgevaarlijk
dangerous.Valancydidnotknowwhetherher
geest
mindwasbeingimprovedornot;maar
butshefeltvaguelythatals
ifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sboeken
booksyearsagolifemighthad
havebeenadifferentthingforhaar
her.Theyseemedtohertoyieldglimpsesof
een
aworldintowhichshemightoncehavegeven
entered,thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernu
now.Itwasonlywithinthe
laatste
lastyearthatJohnFoster’sboeken
bookshadbeenintheDeerwoodbibliotheek
library,thoughthelibrariantoldValancydat
thathehadbeenawell-knownschrijver
writerforseveralyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancy
had
hadasked.“Nobodyknows.
Fromhis
boeken
bookshemustbeaCanadian,maar
butnomoreinformationcanbehad.Hispublisherswon’t
zeggen
sayaword.QuitelikelyJohn
Foster
Fosterisanomdeplume.His
boeken
booksaresopopularwecan’thouden
keeptheminatall,thoughIecht
reallycan’tseewhatpeoplevinden
findinthemtoraveover.”“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”
zei
saidValancy,timidly.“Oh—well—”
MissClarkson
glimlachte
smiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tzeggen
sayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.Maar
ButcertainlyFosterseemstoweten
knowallthereistoweten
knowaboutthem.”Valancydidn’t
wist
knowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncanny
kennis
knowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifedat
thatenthralledher.Shecould
nauwelijks
hardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglokmiddel
lureofamysteryneverrevealed—somehint
hintofagreatsecretnet
justalittlefurtheron—somezwakke
faint,elusiveechooflovely,vergeten
forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Ja
Yes,shewouldgetanieuw
newFosterbook.Itwas
een
amonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sozeker
surelyMothercouldnotobject.Valancy
had
hadreaditfourtimes—shekende
knewwholepassagesoffbyheart.And—she
bijna
almostthoughtshewouldgoen
andseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerpijn
painaroundtheheart.Ithad
gekomen
comeratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerewerden
becomingannoying,nottospeakofanoccasionalduizelig
dizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Maar
Butcouldshegotoseehimzonder
withouttellinganyone?Itwas
een
amostdaringthought.Noneof
de
theStirlingseverconsultedadokter
doctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilen
andgettingUncleJames’approval.Then,they
gingen
wenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,die
whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.Maar
ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh
Marsh.And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,
zonder
withoutbeingtakenthere.Shedidnot
wilde
wantanyonetoknowaboutherhart
heart.Therewouldbesuch
een
afussmadeandeverylid
memberofthefamilywouldkomen
comedownandtalkitoveren
andadviseherandcautionheren
andwarnherandtellhervreselijke
horribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesverwijderd
removedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”en
and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swaarschuwen
warning,mydear.”AuntIsabel
zou
wouldrememberthatshehadaltijd
alwayssaidDosslookedlikeeen
agirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopincheden
andpeakedalways”;andUncleWellington
zou
wouldtakeitasapersoonlijke
personalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;en
andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfect
perfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,lieve
dearlittleDossisn’tlongfordeze
thisworld,I’mafraid”;andCousinGladys
zou
wouldsay,“Why,myhearthad
hasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethatimpliceerde
impliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohad
haveaheart;andOlive—Olive
zou
wouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperioren
anddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftozeggen
say,“Whyallthisfussover
overafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”Valancyfelt
dat
thatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshehadto.She
voelde
feltquitesuretherewasnothingatal
allseriouslywrongwithherhart
heartandnoneedofal
allthepotherthatwouldensueals
ifshementionedit.She
zou
wouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentdie
thatveryday.Asforhisbill,she
had
hadthetwohundreddollarsthathervader
fatherhadputinthebank
bankforherthedayshewasgeboren
born.Shewasneverallowedto
gebruiken
useeventheinterestofthis,maar
butshewouldsecretlytakeuit
outenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwas
een
agruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldkerel
fellow,buthewasaerkende
recognisedauthorityonheartdisease,zelfs
evenifhewereonlyeen
ageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.Dr.Trentwasoverseventy
en
andtherehadbeenrumoursdat
thathemeanttoretirebinnenkort
soon.NoneoftheStirling
clan
clanhadevergonetohimsinds
sincehehadtoldCousinGladys,tien
tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasalldenkbeeldig
imaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatronisea
dokter
doctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyteriantoen
whenalltheStirlingswenttode
theAnglicanchurch.CHAPTERII
Toen
WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdeur
door,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastzeven
sevenandshemustgetup.Aslongasshe
kon
couldremember,CousinStickleshadgeklopt
knockedatherdoorathalf-pastzeven
seven.CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenup
sinds
sinceseven,butValancywasallowedtoliggen
lieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditiondat
thatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorning
dan
thanevershehadbefore.