CHAPTERI
Ifithadnotrainedon
en
acertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelivet
lifewouldhavebeenentirelyannerledes
different.Shewouldhavegone,
med
withtherestofherklan
clan,toAuntWellington’sengagementpicnicog
andDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.Men
Butitdidrainandyoushallhøre
hearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofdet
it.Valancywakenedearly,in
den
thelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdaggry
dawn.Shehadnotslept
veldig
verywell.Onedoesnot
sover
sleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,og
andunmarried,inacommunityog
andconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimplythosesom
whohavefailedtogetamann
man.DeerwoodandtheStirlings
hadde
hadlongsincerelegatedValancytohåpløs
hopelessoldmaidenhood.ButValancyherself
hadde
hadneverquiterelinquishedacertainynkelig
pitiful,shamed,littlehopethatRomanceville
wouldcomeherwayyet—never,untildenne
thiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefaktum
factthatshewastwenty-nineog
andunsoughtbyanyman.Ay,
det
therelaythesting.Valancydidnotmindso
mye
muchbeinganoldmaid.After
alt
all,shethought,beingangammel
oldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasforferdelig
dreadfulasbeingmarriedtoen
anUncleWellingtonoranOnkel
UncleBenjamin,orevenanOnkel
UncleHerbert.Whathurtherwasthatshehad
aldri
neverhadachancetobenoe
anythingbutanoldmaid.Ingen
Nomanhadeverdesiredhenne
her.Thetearscameintohereyesasshe
lå
laytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingmørket
darkness.Shedarednotletherself
gråte
cryashardassheønsket
wantedto,fortworeasons.Shewas
redd
afraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherangrep
attackofthatpainaroundden
theheart.Shehadhad
en
aspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherverre
worsethananyshehadhadennå
yet.Andshewasafraidher
mor
motherwouldnoticeherredeyesatfrokost
breakfastandkeepathermed
withminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingtheårsaken
causethereof.“Suppose,”thoughtValancy
med
withaghastlygrin,“Isvarte
answeredwiththeplaintruth,‘Iamgråter
cryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’Hvor
HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedhver
everydayofherlifeofhergamle
oldmaiddaughter.”Butof
selvfølgelig
courseappearancesshouldbekeptopp
up.“Itisnot,”Valancy
kunne
couldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialstemme
voiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytotenke
thinkaboutmen.”Thethoughtofhermother’s
uttrykk
expressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehadde
hadasenseofhumouringen
nobodyinherclansuspected.Forthat
saken
matter,therewereagoodmange
manythingsaboutValancythatingen
nobodysuspected.Butherlaughterwas
veldig
verysuperficialandpresentlyshelå
laythere,ahuddled,futileliten
littlefigure,listeningtotheregnet
rainpouringdownoutsideandse
watching,withasickdistaste,den
thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,sordidrom
room.Sheknewtheuglinessofthat
rommet
roombyheart—knewitandhatet
hatedit.Theyellow-paintedfloor,
med
withonehideous,“hooked”rugbythesengen
bed,withagrotesque,“hooked”hund
dogonit,alwaysgrinningathernår
whensheawoke;thefaded,dark-redpaper;
the
taket
ceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksog
andcrossedbycracks;the
smale
narrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;thebrown-paperlambrequin
med
withpurplerosesonit;thespotted
gamle
oldlooking-glasswiththecrackover
acrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;thejarof
gammel
ancientpotpourrimadebyhermor
motherinhermythicalhoneymoon;theshell-covered
boksen
box,withoneburstcorner,som
whichCousinStickleshadmadeinherlike
equallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushion
med
withhalfitsbeadfringegone;den
theonestiff,yellowchair;thefaded
gamle
oldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”jobbet
workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimgamle
oldface;theoldphotographsofancientrelatives
lenge
longbanishedfromtheroomsnedenfor
below.Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,an
gammel
oldchromoofapuppysitter
sittingonarainydoorstep.Det
ThatpicturealwaysmadeValancyulykkelig
unhappy.Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedon
den
thedoorstepinthedrivingregnet
rain!Whydidn’tsomeone
åpnet
openthedoorandlethimin?The
andre
otherpicturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofDronning
QueenLouisecomingdownatrapp
stairway,whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlygitt
givenheronhertenthbursdag
birthday.Fornineteenyearsshe
hadde
hadlookedatitandhatet
hatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedDronning
QueenLouise.Butshenever
våget
dareddestroyitorremovedet
it.MotherandCousinStickles
ville
wouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyuttrykt
expresseditinherthoughts,ville
wouldhavehadafit.Everyroominthe
huset
housewasugly,ofcourse.Men
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptopp
upsomewhat.Therewasno
penger
moneyforroomsnobodyeverså
saw.Valancysometimesfeltthatshe
kunne
couldhavedonesomethingforherrommet
roomherself,evenwithoutmoney,hvis
ifshewerepermitted.Buther
mor
motherhadnegativedeverytimidforslag
suggestionandValancydidnotvedvarte
persist.Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewas
redd
afraidto.Hermothercouldnotbrook
motstand
opposition.Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordays
hvis
ifoffended,withtheairsofen
aninsultedduchess.TheonlythingValancy
likte
likedaboutherroomwasthatshekunne
couldbealonethereatnatten
nighttocryifsheville
wantedto.But,afterall,whatdiditmatter
hvis
ifaroom,whichyoubrukte
usedfornothingexceptsleepingog
anddressingin,wereugly?Valancywas
aldri
neverpermittedtostayaloneinherrommet
roomforanyotherpurpose.Folk
Peoplewhowantedtobealene
alone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingog
andCousinSticklesbelieved,couldbare
onlywanttobealonefornoen
somesinisterpurpose.Butherroominthe
Blå
BlueCastlewaseverythingaroomburde
shouldbe.Valancy,socowed
og
andsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinvirkelige
reallife,waswonttola
letherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.Ingen
NobodyintheStirlingclan,eller
oritsramifications,suspectedthis,minst
leastofallhermotherog
andCousinStickles.Theynever
visste
knewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyrøde
redbrickboxofahjem
home,onElmStreet,andtheBlå
BlueCastleinSpain.Valancy
hadde
hadlivedspirituallyintheBlå
BlueCastleeversinceshekunne
couldremember.Shehadbeen
et
averytinychildwhenshefant
foundherselfpossessedofit.Alltid
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shekunne
couldseeitplainly,withitsturretsog
andbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitssvake
faint,blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofen
afairandunknownland.Alt
Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasindet
thatcastle.Jewelsthatqueens
kan
mighthaveworn;robesof
måneskinn
moonlightandfire;couchesofroses
og
andgold;longflightsof
grunt
shallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,og
andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgår
goingupanddownthem;courts,marble-pillared,
hvor
whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessang
sangamongthemyrtles;hallsofmirrors
som
thatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsog
andlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofalle
all,forwhoseglancemendøde
died.Allthatsupportedher
gjennom
throughtheboredomofherdayswasthehåpet
hopeofgoingonadrøm
dreamspreeatnight.Most,
hvis
ifnotall,oftheStirlingsville
wouldhavediedofhorrorhvis
iftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancygjorde
didinherBlueCastle.Foronethingshe
hadde
hadquiteafewloversindet
it.Oh,onlyoneata
gangen
time.Onewhowooedher
med
withalltheromanticardourofden
theageofchivalryandvant
wonherafterlongdevotionog
andmanydeedsofderring-do,og
andwasweddedtohermed
withpompandcircumstanceinden
thegreat,banner-hungchapelofden
theBlueCastle.Attwelve,
denne
thisloverwasafairgutt
ladwithgoldencurlsandhimmelske
heavenlyblueeyes.Atfifteen,hewas
høy
tallanddarkandpale,men
butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,
drømmende
dreamy,spiritual.Attwenty-five,he
hadde
hadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim
grim,andafacestrongog
andruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancy
aldri
nevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,men
butrecently—veryrecently—herherohadhadreddish,tawnyhår
hair,atwistedsmileandamystisk
mysteriouspast.Idon’tsayValancy
vilje
deliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewdem
them.Onesimplyfadedawayasanother
kom
came.Thingsareveryconvenientin
denne
thisrespectinBlueCastles.Men
But,onthismorningofherdag
dayoffate,Valancycouldnotfinne
findthekeyofherBlueCastle.Virkeligheten
Realitypressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheelssom
likeamaddeninglittledog.Shewastwenty-nine,
ensom
lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelyjenta
girlinahandsomeclan,withingen
nopastandnofuture.As
langt
farasshecouldlooktilbake
back,lifewasdrabandcolourless,med
withnotonesinglecrimsoneller
orpurplespotanywhere.As
langt
farasshecouldlookfremover
forwarditseemedcertaintobeakkurat
justthesameuntilshewasingenting
nothingbutasolitary,littlewitheredblad
leafclingingtoawintrybough.The
øyeblikket
momentwhenawomanrealisesthatshehar
hasnothingtolivefor—neitherkjærlighet
love,duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofdøden
death.“AndIjusthavetogoon
leve
livingbecauseIcan’tstop.I
kan
mayhavetoliveeightyyears,”tenkte
thoughtValancy,inakindofpanikk
panic.“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmeto
tenke
thinkofit.”Shewas
glad
gladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilyfornøyd
satisfiedthatitwasraining.There
ville
wouldbenopicnicthatdagen
day.Thisannualpicnic,whereby
Tante
AuntandUncleWellington—onealwaystenkte
thoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablyfeiret
celebratedtheirengagementatapiknik
picnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,ofsene
lateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.By
en
animpishcoincidenceitwasthesamme
samedayasherbirthdayog
and,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,ingen
nobodyletherforgetit.Mye
Muchasshehatedgoingtothepiknik
picnic,itwouldneverhaveoppstått
occurredtohertorebelmot
againstit.Thereseemedtobe
noe
nothingoftherevolutionaryinhernatur
nature.Andsheknewexactlywhateveryone
ville
wouldsaytoheratthepiknik
picnic.UncleWellington,whomshe
mislikte
dislikedanddespisedeventhoughhehadde
hadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”ville
wouldsaytoherinen
apig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettinggifte
marriedyet,mydear?”andthen
gå
gooffintothebellowoflatter
laughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.Tante
AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectærefrykt
awe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snye
newchiffondressandCecil’ssiste
lastdevotedletter.Valancywould
ha
havetolookaspleasedog
andinterestedasifthedressog
andletterhadbeenherseller
orelseAuntWellingtonwouldbefornærmet
offended.AndValancyhadlong
siden
agodecidedthatshewouldheller
ratheroffendGodthanAuntWellington,fordi
becauseGodmightforgivehermen
butAuntWellingtonneverwould.Tante
AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablevane
habitofalwaysreferringtoherektemann
husbandas“he,”asifhewereden
theonlymalecreatureinden
theworld,whocouldneverglemme
forgetthatshehadbeenastor
greatbeautyinheryouth,ville
wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowhud
skin—.“Idon’tknowwhy
alle
allthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.Da
WhenIwasagirlmyhud
skinwasrosesandcream.Iwascounted
den
theprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”Kanskje
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orkanskje
perhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfett
fatyou’regetting,Doss!”Andthen
alle
everybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideen
ideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossblir
gettingfat.Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancydisliked
men
butrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeveldig
verycleverandwasthereforetheklanen
clanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldsannsynligvis
probablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarkasme
sarcasmthathadwonhimhisrykte
reputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusymed
withyourhope-chestthesedays?”Og
AndUncleBenjaminwouldasknoen
someofhisabominableconundrums,mellom
betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.“Whatisthe
forskjellen
differencebetweenDossandamus
mouse?“Themousewishesto
skade
harmthecheeseandDosswishestosjarmere
charmthehe’s.”Valancyhadheardhim
spørre
askthatriddlefiftytimesog
andeverytimeshewantedtokaste
throwsomethingathim.Butshe
aldri
neverdid.Inthefirstplace,theStirlings
bare
simplydidnotthrowthings;inthe
andre
secondplace,UncleBenjaminwasen
awealthyandchildlessoldenkemann
widowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefrykt
fearandadmonitionofhispenger
money.Ifsheoffendedhimhe
ville
wouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereindet
it.Valancydidnotwanttobe
kuttet
cutoutofUncleBenjamin’sville
will.Shehadbeenpoorallher
liv
lifeandknewthegallingbitterhet
bitternessofit.Soshe
utholdt
enduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturert
torturedlittlesmilesoverthem.Tante
AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,ville
wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancykunne
couldnotpredictjusthow,forTante
AuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefant
foundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyouhver
everytime.AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshe
tenkte
thought,butdidn’tlikeitsogodt
wellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheytenkte
thoughttoher.Valancynever
sa
saidwhatshethought.CousinGeorgiana—named
etter
afterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedetter
afterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofalle
allrelativesandfriendswhohadde
haddiedsincethelastpicnicog
andwonder“whichofusvil
willbethefirsttogå
gonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,AuntMildred
ville
wouldtalkendlesslyofherektemann
husbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,fordi
becauseValancywouldbetheeneste
onlyoneshecouldfindtoputopp
upwithit.Forthe
samme
samereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstFetter
CousinGladysonceremoved,accordingtoden
thestrictwayinwhichden
theStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,tynn
thinladywhoadmittedshehadde
hadasensitivedisposition,wouldbeskrive
describeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.Og
AndOlive,thewondergirlofden
thewholeStirlingclan,whohadde
hadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularitet
popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherskjønnhet
beautyandpresumeonherpopularitet
popularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofkjærlighet
loveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Det
Therewouldbenoneofalldette
thistoday.Andtherewouldbenopacking
opp
upofteaspoons.Thepackingupwas
alltid
alwaysleftforValancyandFetter
CousinStickles.Andonce,sixyears
siden
ago,asilverteaspoonfromTante
AuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeentapt
lost.Valancyneverheardthe
siste
lastofthatsilverteaspoon.Its
spøkelse
ghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilie
familyfeast.Oh,yes,Valancy
visste
knewexactlywhatthepicnicville
wouldbelikeandshevelsignet
blessedtherainthathadsavedherfromit.Det
Therewouldbenopicnicthisår
year.IfAuntWellingtoncouldnot
feire
celebrateonthesacreddayitselfsheville
wouldhavenocelebrationatall.Takk
Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.Siden
Sincetherewouldbenopiknik
picnic,Valancymadeuphersinn
mindthat,iftherainholdt
heldupintheafternoon,sheville
wouldgouptothebiblioteket
libraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywas
aldri
neverallowedtoreadnovels,men
butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.Theywere“naturebooks”—sothelibrarian
fortalte
toldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsog
andbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”SoValancywas
tillatt
allowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasbare
onlytooevidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomye
much.Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,to
lese
readtoimproveyourmindog
andyourreligion,butabok
bookthatwasenjoyablewasfarlig
dangerous.Valancydidnotknow
om
whetherhermindwasbeingforbedret
improvedornot;butshefelt
vagt
vaguelythatifshehadcomeover
acrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearssiden
agolifemighthavebeenen
adifferentthingforher.They
syntes
seemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofen
aworldintowhichshekunne
mightoncehaveentered,thoughthedøren
doorwasforeverbarredtohernå
now.Itwasonlywithinthe
siste
lastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadde
hadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,om
thoughthelibrariantoldValancythathehadde
hadbeenawell-knownwriterforflere
severalyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancy
hadde
hadasked.“Nobodyknows.
Fromhisbookshe
må
mustbeaCanadian,butingen
nomoreinformationcanbehad.Hispublisherswon’t
si
sayaword.QuitelikelyJohn
Foster
Fosterisanomdeplume.Hisbooksareso
populære
popularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,om
thoughIreallycan’tseewhatfolk
peoplefindinthemtorave
raveover.”“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”
sa
saidValancy,timidly.“Oh—well—”
MissClarkson
smilte
smiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsi
sayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.Men
ButcertainlyFosterseemstovite
knowallthereistovite
knowaboutthem.”Valancydidn’t
visste
knowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncanny
kunnskap
knowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledhenne
her.Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofa
mysterium
mysteryneverrevealed—somehintofastor
greatsecretjustalittlelenger
furtheron—somefaint,elusiveechoofvakre
lovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Ja
Yes,shewouldgetany
newFosterbook.Itwas
en
amonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest
Harvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.Valancy
hadde
hadreaditfourtimes—shevisste
knewwholepassagesoffbyhjertet
heart.And—shealmostthoughtshe
ville
wouldgoandseeDr.Trentom
aboutthatqueerpainaroundden
theheart.Ithadcome
ganske
ratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebli
becomingannoying,nottospeakofansporadisk
occasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Men
Butcouldshegotose
seehimwithouttellinganyone?Itwas
en
amostdaringthought.NoneoftheStirlingsever
konsultert
consultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilie
familycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.Then,they
gikk
wenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPort
PortLawrence,whohadmarriedAndre
SecondCousinAdelaideStirling.ButValancydislikedDr.Ambrose
Marsh
Marsh.And,besides,shecouldnotgetto
Port
PortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,uten
withoutbeingtakenthere.She
vite
didnotwantanyonetovite
knowaboutherheart.There
ville
wouldbesuchafusslaget
madeandeverymemberofthefamilyville
wouldcomedownandtalkitover
overandadviseherandcautionherog
andwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsog
andcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadde
hadbeen“justlikethat”og
and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”Tante
AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalltid
alwayssaidDosslookedlikeen
agirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedog
andpeakedalways”;andUncleWellington
ville
wouldtakeitasapersonlig
personalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadde
hadheartdiseasebefore”;andGeorgiana
ville
wouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesat
that“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlenge
longforthisworld,I’mafraid”;og
andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhjerte
hearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatone
tonethatimpliednooneelsehadnoen
anybusinesseventohaveahjerte
heart;andOlive—Olivewouldmerely
se
lookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglysunn
healthy,asiftosay,“Whyalldenne
thisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDossnår
whenyouhaveme?”Valancyfelt
at
thatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshehadto.Shefelt
ganske
quitesuretherewasnothingatalle
allseriouslywrongwithherhjertet
heartandnoneedofalle
allthepotherthatwouldensuehvis
ifshementionedit.She
ville
wouldjustslipupquietlyog
andseeDr.Trentthatverydag
day.Asforhisbill,she
hadde
hadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfar
fatherhadputinthebanken
bankforherthedayshewasfødt
born.Shewasneverallowedto
bruke
useeventheinterestofdette
this,butshewouldsecretlyta
takeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwas
en
agruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,men
buthewasarecognisedautoritet
authorityonheartdisease,evenom
ifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.Dr.Trentwas
over
overseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttopensjonere
retiresoon.NoneoftheStirling
klanen
clanhadevergonetohimsiden
sincehehadtoldCousinGladys,ti
tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasalt
allimaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatronise
en
adoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottonevne
mentionthathewasaPresbyterianda
whenalltheStirlingswenttoden
theAnglicanchurch.CHAPTERII
Da
WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdøren
door,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsyv
sevenandshemustgetopp
up.Aslongasshe
kunne
couldremember,CousinStickleshadbanket
knockedatherdoorathalf-pastsyv
seven.CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirling
hadde
hadbeenupsinceseven,men
butValancywasallowedtoligge
lieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilie
familytraditionthatshewasdelikat
delicate.Valancygotup,thoughshe
hatet
hatedgettingupmorethismorningenn
thanevershehadbefore.