Sparkling bright spring day was shining, the birds were singing and the sky was a deep gentle blue. The blossoming trees were like blooming brides, wide lawns of long grass and shadow dappled moss there grew violets, multi-colored crocuses, as well as soon, blue-scented scillas, and gently shy, bluebells all over Glen and Lowbridge. Upon the reddish rocks there stood Lighthouse, with its prideful flag of Empire whipping in the fresh spring breeze, as white-peaked waves crashed to the shore.

Cornelia Elliot sat in Ingelside's living room, and said contentedly, "In these times we must maintain the right kind of morals, I heard that there has been some trouble in Lowbridge, some vague crowd has gathered there that might cause trouble, but fortunately it does not concern us. Anne my dear, Mary is quite beside herself, as she is worried about Miller, for he hasn't written for a while. And as you know Anne Laidies Aid wants to have some little event, either in the town hall or the church premises. Glen is still talking about Red Cross concert of the summer of 1915, that night was truly unforgettable!" Gertrude Oliver remarked in her quiet, mysterious way, "Excuse me for interrupting, Mrs Cornelia, but if it was some kind of combined sales event and charity concert, because that previous Glen and Lowbridge collaboration was quite a success, wasn't it?"

Cornelia sighed, and pointed out in her humorous way, "You're right, but it took months to organize that event, but now the contacts are already in place, so maybe we should think about this." Rilla said quietly from her corner, "A couple of days ago on the verandah we were just talking about this. Gertrude, you promised to play the piano if Lowbridge's Alice and Irene Howard were to appear together, and here's the chance, and to help our gallant boys, too! Di, do you think Alice will agree?"

Di looked up from her manuscript, the scribbled slips of which lay around her in a light jumbled pile, as she said dreamily, "Rilla, I suppose so, but she's got her own responsibilities too. Remember we're only here for a couple more days and then we're back in Redmond, to our own duties for Red Cross, so everything has to happen on a short schedule." Rilla laughed lightly, and brightly, and said with a smile, dimples on her cheeks, "Since I was able to arrange Miranda's marriage in less than a couple of days, I think this won't be a problem either, I just need to finish a few pairs of socks and iron Jims clothes, then I'll get to work, and I rouse Betty Mead and Miranda Milgrave to help me, and surely Laides Aid and Reverend Meredith too will help us, if there is need?" Cornelia glanced at Rilla with a satisfied look, and in a low voice remarked to Anne, "I couldn't have said it better myself, she has really excellent organizational skills."

Anne glanced in a proud and loving way, at her youngest, who was really efficient in all minutia and organization, and endless social hob-knobbing, that had always strained Anne´s nerves into pieces. Rilla with her creamy cheeks slightly flushed, calmly knitted pair of socks for little sweet Jims, and with her another hand she seemed to plan some sort of roster list. Susan came into the living room carrying a tea tray, and remarked, "Mrs Dr. Dear, Alice Parker seems to be walking up the road this way, so we'll have one more guest for tea."

Gertrude Oliver watched quietly from her corner as Alice Parker arrived at Ingelside, a fair girl, sweeping the hems of her pale lilac cotton dress, raised her basket, and said with dignified mirth, "Greetings from Lowbridge, Susan, this time, I've got a jam tart with me, made according to all the latest regulations. I also happened to make vanilla custard, but that will be saved for the Laidies Aid of Lowbridge meeting tomorrow." Susan, nodded, and put the tea tray on the table and said, "It's only right that when you're at home you help where you can, like Rilla does, she can even knit her own socks these days and the twins have always been good students in the kitchen." Rilla threw a sharp look at Susan, and raised her red-brown head, and began furiously to outline a letter.

Cornelia Elliot looked at the blonde girl with sharp blue eyes, and said kindly, but perceptively, "I've always said that proper girls should master kitchen skills even if they go to college, surely some lucky youth returning from the war will make you his proper bride." Alice only smiled in wan way, and picked up the paper-wrapped package from her basket, and handed it to Susan with a slight nod of her head. And sitting down in the only available chair, which happened to be next to Di, Alice crossed her gloved arms in an expectant fashion, and as if that had been some kind of sing, Di broke into breathless speech, "Alice, if there's a small occasion, for the war-effort, in the next few days, could you appear there with Irene?"

Gertrude glanced at Alice, who was smiling in clearly amused way, and after a moment of silence she replied, "Actually, last Sunday I happened to visit the Howards, and we talked about working together, so why not." Rilla grimaced, and said iltalics in her every syllable, " How can you do anything with her, she is so, so, typical Howard, all sugar and honey, and superiority." Alice laughed lightly, and said mischievously, "Dear Rilla, sometimes in life you have to put up with people whose views may be the opposite of yours. And as for Irene, perhaps I see sides of her that you don't know she has. Sometimes contrasts can sweeten each other and a new combination emerges."

Gertrude noticed a light smile on Di's lips, which quickly faded, however, when Alice, after drinking her tea, rose softly from her seat, and said in a friendly, somewhat distant tone, "Miss Oliver, will you agree to play on this occasion, if it can be arranged? I would otherwise ask Di, but she must be busy with her manusscript, and besides that, she and Irene don't really care for each other, or at least that's what I've noticed when I've met them together a few times, and when it comes to making music, harmony in the rehearsal situation is paramount." Nan laughed in light, glimmering way, as she said, "Alice, that truly is understatement of century, really!" Anne glanced in sensorious way towards Rilla, who had perked up hearing Nan´s words. Anne said, "Well, my darling girls, will you all behave, like ladies, not cadre of fierce territorial cats!"

Gertrude found herself nodding, and got up and walked over to Alice, saying softly, and emphatically, "I look forward to our future collaboration, Miss Parker." Anne said meltingly in her bright way, "Alice, it was really nice of you to come visit us." Gertrude noticed how Alice's violet gaze lingered on Walter's photograph, the bookshelves, and Gog and Magog, and then she said softly, "Mrs Blythe, it's always a pleasure to come to Ingelside, it's so lively homely and warm, but now I will have to go to do one more errand. Have lovely afternoon!" With a slight smile, and swift glance towards Di, Alice was gone.

Anne tasted her tea and said in a slightly nostalgic voice, " Dear Cornelia, I happened to get a letter from little Elizabeth, I suppose you never met her, here? She is still in Paris, she shares an apartment with one of her friends, for cost reasons, you understand, as apartments are so expensive. She wrote so beautifully about Walter, that I was really moved!" Di's light voice broke the pensive, mournful silence as she inquired, "I find I'm a little stuck in my manuscript, so reading little Elizabeth's letter might help. Walter wrote about her a few times, and I've been thinking I might start a correspondence with her, that would be a good thing, in terms of my language skills." Hearing Di's words, a delighted look spread across Anne's delicate face and she declared, "A clever idea, for if I remember correctly Elizabeth's late father had some contacts in the local literary circles. Remind me to give you that letter later before you go back to Kingsport."

A ray of sunlight played on the statue of Artemis, and on the spotted fur of Gog and Magog, and on the narrow china crockery, and Nan, looking out of the large windows, into the leafy garden, where there was not yet summer's abundance, and fingered Jerry's ruby, and slowly the surrounding conversation began again as soothing like the buzzing of bees in the spring sun.


Alice Parker walked towards Manse, carrying a small bouquet of violets, wrapped in a handkerchief, and folder in small woven basket in the crook of her arm. And waving her hand to Bruce, who was playing in the yard, Alice crept towards Manse Church, and carefully opened the door. Everything was calm, only the organist was there, light, airy Bach faded into silence. Alice, smiling softly, said, "If you have time, can you play this?" Glen's organist, wiping his dirty glasses, and glancing at the sheet music, said a little hoarsely, "Listen, my girl, Holy Week is over, but I happen to have a hour or so, before Glen's choir practice, and sometimes, it feels good to play something other than Presbyterian- hymns." So, soon glorious organ music filled that echoing space, as Alice stood in the center aisle of church, and watched as the light dust particles seemed to almost dance in the light, and slowly she closed her eyes, shivering.

John Meredith walked towards his church, Bruce by his side, Bruce tugged on his father's sleeve, and said impatiently, "The fairy is in our church now. I didn't know that fairies go to church!" John suppressed a wide smile, and softly he brushed Bruce's dark hair, and said "Bruce, Alice Parker is an Episcopalian, as was Rosemary, so of course she is not part of our church, but our doors are open to all, regardless of denomination." The door had been left half open, and with a leap Bruce slipped in, amused John Meredith followed his youngest. Bruce sat in his usual place on the bench, there were rapturous, almost elfin expression on his small, serious face, for Alice stood half in the shadow, gliding from shadow to light, back and forth, and her voice was glowing full of feeling, as she was singing, a light ray of sunlight fell on Alice's braided hair, adorned with a few violets.

Ihr Veilchen, kränzt heut keine Lockenhaare!

Euch pflückt mein pious Kind zum Dunkeln Strausse,

Ihr wandert mit zum Muttergotteshause,

Da sollt ihr welken auf des Herrn Altare.


Ach dort, von Trauermelodien trunken,

Und süss betäubt von schweren Weihrauchdüften

Sucht sie den Bräutigam in Todesgrüften,

Und Lieb und Frühling, alles ist versunken.

As the last verses were still echoing through the church, John Meredith walked up to Alice Parker, nodded to the organist, and said, "Miss Parker, thank you for this surprise gift in the middle of the week, but whose song was that? I'm sure Una wants the sheet music for it. Rosemary has been saying for years to me, that more spiritual music should be performed in our church, for our organ is first-rate, as you know." Alice, nodded and said softly, "Actually Reverend, I've already copied these notes for Una, this was Wolf and Mörike's song, Karwoche, but the piano doesn't have the same effect, some songs just call for an organ, and this is clearly one of them." Alice smiled openly at Bruce, who slid in front of her, almost falling, saying breathlessly "Fairy, was that fairy music, it didn't sound like English, I want to learn it too!" Alice knelt down on the cold worn stone floor and looked at Bruce standing directly in front of her and Alice said wistfully, thoughtfully, glancing at the Reverend out of the corner of her eye, "Sweetheart, if I say that almost all the music in the world is kind of fairy music, just keep keep your mind and heart open, and before long you will learn many new things." Bruce sighed, and said, "Why wait for everything, sometimes I wish things, especially good things, would happen now. That Una would smile again, with a bright face, and that my brothers would come home, from the claws of the Germans, and that I would get bisquits often." Alice laughed mirthfully, and said seriously, "Well, if you want biscuits, look in my basket." Soon a triumphant shout echoed through the church aisle as Bruce literally danced out, carefully holding a jar filled biscuits in his hands. John Meredith looked at Alice with a smile and said sincerely, "Bruce's cup of happiness is quite full for today." Alice smiled, as she said, "I happen to know how much Bruce loves little surprises, and arranging this for him was no trouble at all for me, and in these times, happiness is such a fleeting shiny thing, so it must be cherished, that is especially true for children."

Then the doors of the church opened, and ringing laughter of various Glen´s choir filled the shadowy space, among them were Irene Howard, her face was strained, there were dark shadows under her blue eyes, and she flicked her hair, and nodded to Alice as she passed. Alice nodded gracefully back, picked up her basket, and left the dusky church, into the bright sunlight.

John Meredith slipped into the hall of the Manse, his head full of new ideas, and almost startled he heard Rosemary's sweet voice inquire, "John, why didn't you invite Alice Parker to have tea? Bruce has already declared the jar of bisquits she had given him for special occasions only, because they are Empire Bisquits, with jam, glace, and cherry on top." John wiped his collar, and said a little sheepishly, "That thought didn't cross my mind at all." Rosemary only glanced toward John, in most fond way, as she poured fresh tea to him, as Una played Händel for Bruce in the living room.


When Alice arrived in her home, in Lowbridge she immediately noticed that Dick Parker was at home, in the middle of the afternoon, as there was subtle scent of pipe lingering in the hallway. Her parents were at the living room, Dick had folded his arms, and glancing at the pale-faced Therese, he said seriously, but in his warm grizzly way, "Lizzie, how was Ingelside, and Manse folks? Will you sit down and cease loitering in the doorway like some restless rusalki, as I have something to of importance to say to you. As you may know since 1915 internment camps have been established all over Canada. I was informed two days ago that a colleague of mine and his family, they have lived in Ontario, since 1912, have now been classified as enemy aliens, and transferred to the camp where according to his message there are several German-speaking immigrants from the Austro-Hungarian region, and also other nationalities, including a few Slavs, all of whom are being held there in the name of national security. "

With trembling hands, Alice poured hot tea from the pan into the teacups, and slowly sat down, as her father's gentle, cutting, concern slowly seeping into her consciousness. Dick Parker clasped his hands together and looking reassuringly at Alice, as he said briskly "Several of my clients have already switched to Dr. Blythe, for patriotic reasons, or so they said." And with a little despair in her heart, Alice remembered those not so veiled and hostile looks, that she had recived only few moments ago, as she had walked towards her home. For the last couple of days it seemed as if she had been followed as she went about Lowbridge, doing her errands. Aiming for composure, that failed, Alice asked, "Have there been any threats, or just lost customers, and a little vandalism in our garden?"

Dick Parker shot a sharp look at Alice and said with a bit of a bitter chuckle, "No, threats, not for now, my position here will protect us at least for a while, or so I hope." Little hesitantly Alice asked, "When I visited Ingelside there was a little collaboration planned, for our soldiers, a collection, and sale, and music, I was asked to perform, it is probably in Glen, not here, but do you think it would be a good idea under the circumstances?" Therese Parker, glancing appeasingly at Dick, as she said, "Well, if Cornelia Elliot is on the committee, you can perform, she's well-connected, and it's almost certain that she knows the kind of atmosphere that prevails here. If you didn't perform with Blythe's daughters, or Miss Howard, that might give the wrong impression too, so go! I hope that evening will help to ease the tensions all around."


Glen's town hall was decorated with flowers and a large Empire flag hung on the wall. There was a piano on the stage, and with a sigh, Gertrude brushed her hair from her forehead, and concentrated on the notes before her. The songs, one after the other, slipped under her fingers, and what little she could see, both blonde girls in their dark skirts and light blouses, approached the upcoming performance, quite ambitiously, if there was tension under the surface, it was hardly noticeable. Then Irene's voice, which had been so melodious and controlled all morning, trembled as she said, "Miss Oliver, I forgot to say earlier that Roses of Picardy will not be performed." And wonderingly, Gertrude glanced at the notes before her, and said, "Strange, for this piece is exceedingly popular, and I know many expect it to be heard here, but what will take its place?" Alice sighed, and said, "Well, Irene is very determined, I tried to persuade her, but to no avail, so I suggest that Lass with a Delicate Air, that traditional ballad, of Georgian times, full of pastoral dreams and love, might be suitable, and since it's Irene's solo, let her decide." After that small adjustement had been made, the hours flew by as if sped up, with the scales glowing, and the girls of Red Cross Youth Department and Laidies Aid arranging the goods for sale in order in the hall, the air smelled of trench cake, and bisquits, the embroidered tablecloths were spread into elegant arrangements.

Expectant quiet hum subsided into applause as the piano chords ceased to be heard, as Gertrude came up beside Irene and Alice, both of them were clothed in colorful muslin, Alice had silken scarf around her waist, as did Irene too. After last programs were done, Cornelia Elliot and Anne Blythe came on the stage, and Anne said in her sweet, sonorous voice, "Thank you all, this little soiree could not have been done without all of you, and our dear community here, as you know the admission fee, and all the money goes to our brave soldiers, on the Western Front and elsewhere too, wherever they have gone because they are all fighting for our freedom!"

Out of breath from Rilla's fierce embrace and Jims's sticky little hands, Gertrude wandered in the hall in her dark blue dress, examining the cloths and laces, and then she noticed, a couple of tables away, in a corner, a middle-aged man in a downright hideously variegated waistcoat seemed to be conversing with Alice, then the man, turned and spat with the utmost contempt at Alice's feet, and having done this, he disappeared into the joyful, but solenm crowd. Gertrude, walked up to Alice and inquired, softly, "That one was obviously unhappy with the evening's performances, or was it perhaps something more serious? Under Gertrude's watchful gaze, Alice, glanced pale-faced into the other woman's dark eyes and said, "I don't think I know what you mean, Miss Oliver, now I have to go get some fresh air."

Gertrude sighed exasperatedly, and said briefly, "Alice, you forget that I'm from Lowbridge too, so please don't take me for a fool. I suggest you stay inside, for a time, let's go have some lemonade, you must be thristy after all that singing." When red-cheeked Di Blythe found them by the lemonade bowl, Di glanced at Alice, and said, "What's the matter, Alice, you seem a little tense, and rattled." Gertrude glanced in Di's direction and said gently, "Just a spot of small unpleasantness, only Lowbridge-things." Alice gave Gertrude a grateful look, as Di said in her jubiliant way, " Well, tonight was a small compensation for me, for not making it to Redmond's Spring Soiree, although here is no champagne, no silks, or cigar smoke, but the atmosphere is more homely, and warmer, at least that's what Nan said. What exactly did you say to Irene, as she's not in her usual red silks, she looks like a country girl for once." Alice said softly, "There was no argument about our clothes, which was a little odd, I'd say that our performance went off quite nicely." Gertrude watched Di and Alice, but there was nothing too intimate about the behavior of either girl, they exchanged a few words, in low voice, and Gertrude saw Di shake her red curls with a decided tilt of her chin. Then Nan arrived with Rilla, and the evening ended in general rejoicing, and floating shimmering laughter as that joyful crowd walked in the streets of Glen, in the evening dim.

Afterwards, Anne Blythe sat Ingelside's living room, she leaned on Gilbert's arm and said in a slightly choked voice, "I would give anything to write a really funny, descriptive letter about this evening, to Walter." Gilbert brushed Anne's hair away from her temples and said, in very gentle way, " Anne-girl, we have two other boys at the front, write to them in place of our lost child." Feeling content, Gilbert saw, that Anne really did sat down at her desk and began to write. Next day, quite a pile of packages and letters were taken from Ingelside to the local post office, where they slipped among other packages and letters going to the front.


Adeline Gardiner pointedly remarked to Christine Stuart Dawson, as they sat having tea, in one of Kingsport's most elegant coffee houses, "And then, at the end of that painful evening, when that humble little librarian had at last left the Hall, Dorian insisted that the great painting be moved, either back to its place, to the great to the staircase, or to his room, and there it hangs now, on the wall of Dorian's blue-tinted room, filling the only wall that has no bookshelves. That evening was such a torment, if you can believe it, my dearest Christine. I do not at all understand why he must have wanted to share our family's affairs with an outsider "

Christine Stuart Dawson raised an eyebrow, and said calmly, "Adeline, have you ever thought that by tearing back the veil of old things, and perhaps even family scandals, Roy may be in some way training his son to understand the value of things kept quiet." Adeline sighed, and wiping her dessert spoon, said displeasedly, "You may be right, but it's still disgusting."

Christine asked amused, "Secrets, power or spreading family scandals?" Adeline stood up dignified, and said coolly, "Well, the latter of course!" Christine smiled in her cat-like way, and placing a light kiss on Adeline's cheek said softly, "Sometimes I feel like if you loosened your principles Adeline you might be happier, you can't spend your whole life guarding your family name, you seem to so often doing it, it makes you somewhat old-fashioned, which dear Roy and Dorothy are not." Adeline narrowed her mouth, and said briefly, "You wanted to go see some dresses on the high street, so shall we?"

After about ten minutes, Adeline and Christine were standing in a clothing store, and the salespeople were swarming around them, like a swarm of butterflies, when there was an opportunity to clear out expensive inventory. Christine examined the selection with a critical eye, and finally she chose one dress, and asked for it to be packed. Adeline furrowed her eyebrows, and said in a slightly hesitant tone that was unheard of, "Have you decided to change your style, or is this related to one of your projects? Roy said in passing that you have far-reaching plans in the works."

Christine, stroked the embossed lid of the box, and said lightly, "I firmly believe that development must be rewarded." Adeline glanced at her wristwatch, and said a little irritably, "I still have things to attend to, would you like to come with me?" Amusement flashed in Christine's eyes and she nodded.


Dorian Gardiner stood in his room, the bluish hues were more intense than usual, and as he remembered Walter's light words, "Indeed you are like Colin Craven, dear friend." But only now that little literary joke was true, because he had a portrait of his mother who had died young, in his room, on the wall, smiling gently at him. Dorian opened a blue book with worn brocade covers, only a couple of days ago Royal had called Dorian into his study and he had briefly pointed to the boxes in front of the fireplace, and said, "There are more of your mother's things, you can go through them if you want, as I don't know exactly what's in them." And eagerly, almost hungrily, Dorian had carefully sorted through them and, he had found thick pile notebooks. And with a light sigh, Dorian turned on the light on his desk, and delved into the pages filled in narrow, graceful, handwriting.

I still remember how the rows of roses smelled in the warm southern sunshine, and once in the park of the Bois de Bolongie I saw a young man with dark hair talking to my father. He followed us to the evening service, and I saw at once that he did not know our customs.

Week after week, that young man persistently came to my father's house, and began to discuss business opportunities. And almost, before I could turn, I found myself spending my free time, with that very romantic-looking youth, in supervised walks in the park, and pleasure trips around the little villages of the south of France, and the luxurious amusements of Paris. Then he went away, but his letters crossed Atlantic.

Then one autumn came, my father lowered the heavy marbled ledger from his weary hand, and said to me in his gentle way, "Valentine, Royal Gardiner, is upcoming businessman with a strong vision for future. He needs money and right international connections. He wants to restore his familys old estate in some small Canadian island. So he has asked for your hand in marriage, as it seems that you are fond of him, I have given permission to this union, as unseemly as it is, for even though he does not believe in the same as we do, but he frevently wants to convert, even if I said it would be absurd, so I declained that request. "

On his next journey to Paris, Royal brought with him to our place of rendezvous, unannounced, his mother, and his elder sister, to my astonishment, for they both seemed very cold and formal, though they praised me, in laudatory terms, as if I were six, and not soon to be twenty-three. So feeling irritated, I said to Mrs. Gardiner, in my most charming and sunny way. Votre fils vous a dit que vous aimiez les roses, heureusement, le gagne-pain de ma famille dépend en partie des feuilles de rose. Mais maintenant c'est bientôt l'heure d'aller voir le service à Notre Dame, c'est incroyable en soi, surtout les dimanches soirs comme celui-ci quand le lieu est ouvert à tous. Mrs. Gardiner's face had narrowed, that venerable lady had not said a word, and the sister had only fixed a sharp look on her brother, which I had been at a loss to interpret. Afterwards, Roy had handed me a velvet box containing an extremely beautiful string of baroque pearls.

Wedding service was like a blur, I stood at the altar, in my lace and white silk, and next to me I smelled Roy's orange blossom cologne, which later became so dear to me, then I was, no longer Mademoiselle Valentine Frêche, I was Mrs Royal Gardiner.

Venice is full of colors, sunshine and cool shade, and the smell of incense that I love so much. The iconic works of the old masters stare at me as if judging from the walls of the chapels, as they did in Versailles too. So far my time here has been interesting. Every hour is full of all kinds of things to do, so the old ennnui doesn't bother me. Roy used his connections, we have often visited his very attractive cousin in the afternoons. Sometimes I walk with Claire along the bridges over the canals of Venice, and the sun shines from a clear sky, and despite our hats, my eyes are dazzled by all that brightness, and I feel the water calling me. Claire is usually quiet and thoughtful, always sad, or at least it seems so, even when she tries to be happy for us. And sometimes in the evenings a strong smell of opium wafts down from the upper floor into our wing, and I wonder who is using it? Claire, or her husband, who seems very cold, and self-conscious, as if someone had turned Blake's or Byron's heroes on the wrong side, his hurried footsteps often echoing down the stone steps until late in the evening, when we arrive from our amusements.

Roy has promised to build me a greenhouse as well, in the same Art Nouveau style that we saw in Paris, there will be several colorful species of orchids, water lilies, and small turtles. He has also talked of getting a chapel, in Gardiner Hall, and I confess I am waiting to see the place, as I have only heard rather vague descriptions of it.

Gardiner Hall, it's a dark and dreary place. I can't breathe here.

All around me the builders are building, everything is being torn apart, and Roy's mother is going everywhere criticizing my taste, "they say it's too peculiar, and continental, nothing like this in Kingsport never been before."

I often spend my time in the library of the Music Association, where the librarian is so friendly and warm. Sometimes I tell her about my worries, of course not everything, because no one would believe anyway.

I've noticed that my moods have fluctuated a lot in the last few weeks and there are times when I feel like I can do anything. Often I dance with Royal's sister Dorothy, with her friends, all nights away, and the next day, I'm preparing the menu for a Laides Club luncheons.

The blackness hits me, like falling into a deep ravine which I can't climb up, and Roy doesn't seem to notice, even if he is sometimes in the evening, so warm, and attentive of my needs.

Gardiner Hall is so beautiful in August sunshine, and this morning I find myself longing for the smell of roses, in the sun, but I can't find them, they're gone.

Yesterday I told Royal that I was expecting a child, he was overflowing with happiness, and immediately pulled out of his pocket, where there are usually only new contracts, a list of names, with the name Dorian at the top if we get a boy, and Dorothea if a girl.

Three weeks ago, pond was finished, it's the only light and happy place here, if one don't count the Victor Hortia staircase.

Dorian furrowed his brows, because the previously neat handwriting was now extremely difficult to read, and flimsy, and the color of the ink had also changed, as the stack of notebooks had dvindled, now there was only one left.

It's August again.

The child came, it's a boy, so Dorian he will be, as Royal wanted, and I agreed, because I love Wilde's novel.

I wish that for my own little Dorian, resting in his cradle, here beside me, that his life would be nothing but happiness, and gladness. He has my eyes, so everybody says, and perhaps in time also Royal's dark hair, and I hope he will have Gardiner's temperament too.

Renovations of Gardiner Hall are now completed, so to honor that occasion there was Ball. Roy danced the opening waltz with me, I was wearing the mangolian pale ball gown immortalized in the painting. After that he danced with Christine Dawson, several dances. In the corner Adeline and Christine Dawson were talking to each other, but they stopped talking when I reached them. I found out that Christine's rose perfume is French, and it turns out it's my family's production, so at least one thing has gone right.

Dorian has a runny nose, and he has just turned two.

My head is pounding and I can't sleep.

I see shadows on the walls, sometimes I actually see spiders walking on the reliefs of the wallpaper. The drugs I've been prescribed don't help, and neither does rest.

It's August outside again, and the evening is humid, but there is moonlight, it reflects so beautifully on the surface of the pond.

I think I'll go for a walk, for my head aches, perhaps I have a fever, that would explain this feeling, I feel as if I were floating, they say it is going around in Kingsport.

And after that, apparently final marking, all that was left were blank, yellowed pages the color of old cream.

Dorian wiped his eyes, and glanced at the painting, soft shadows dancing in the folds of mangol white dress, and sighing softly, Dorian asked the painting in an accusing tone, "Why did you leave me, to grow up alone in this echoing house!" With soft steps Royal Gardiner crept behind his son's door, and with a sad smile he heard Dorian's frantic exclamation, and then his son's voice melted into tears. With determined steps Royal strode into Dorian´s room, and very cautiosly embraced his only son. Dorian stiffened, and then very slowly he, returned that quite stiff and proper embrace. There was silence, and then it was broken when Royal said, in his smooth velvety tone, "I think you may have found her diaries for she always wrote in notebooks of bluish brocade, of which there were many." Dorian only nodded, mutely as there were tears shimmering in his vivid eyes.


In other side of Kingsport, in a modest house, Madeline Dobson sat in her silk dressing gown, at her desk, there was half-burnt candles reflected their flickering light in an oval mirror. There were thousands of conflicting thoughts swirling in her head as the various strands of Royal Gardiner's somewhat sardonic and whisky laden narrative were confirmed by her own faint memories. It had been surprisingly painful to hear Royal's version of events, which had previously only belonged to the two of them, of Claire and her.

Adeline had been snorting at regular intervals, but Dorian had been sitting straight, and there had been a look of concentration on his graceful face, which had softened when at last Royal had said, "Certain things are still not spoken of, not in polite company, but when I saw her face after the family council, it was as if she had heard her own death sentence, if I had thought, I might have taken the initiative to look up my cousin's address in my late wife's written legacy earlier, but I didn't, so that's why I'm sorry, all those wasted years. "Then, taking a deep breath, Madeleine took a creamy white writing paper, and began to outline letter. Hours passed, as golden dawn came nearer, and alarm clock started ringing, and Madeline, humming, closed the completed letter. Little bit later Madeleine walked the streets of Kingsport, she noted that black headlines filled the front pages of the newspapers, they declaired, Battle of the Hills of Champagne, the Third Battle of Champagne, is now over, and the results are still inconclusive.