"How stupid can one be! I knew in my heart it was never going to be like that.
"But those days when I lived between ridiculous dreams of personal glory and the depth of depression, when I hated everyone, and most of all myself, are past and I'm wasting time writing about them, because I can only write in retrospect and I'm probably not giving the real picture, which can only be seen clearly at the time it happens."
There was a blank page and I guessed she had abandoned the idea of writing for a while and continued later. The girl she had been in those days was the one who, finding herself confined in her room, would have scratched 'I am a prisoner here' on the wall of the cupboard. She had been a prisoner because she had been shut in by her own nature, I guessed; but perhaps those about her had helped to make her what she was.
The writing began again.
"There is nowhere one can go without being aware of him. Since my father's stroke he has taken over completely. Of course he was always there and people were more aware of him than they ever were of my father. He just has to command people and they obey him. They have to. My father was not like that. He would get angry with them and be vindictive too. He never forgave anyone who did him an injury. Jago isn't like that. I don't think anyone would dare do him an injury, so one couldn't really know how long he would bear resentment.
"Yesterday I was in the rose garden picking roses when Jago came to me. I turned suddenly and he was beside me. He always seems now as though he is assessing me and that makes me nervous.
"He said: 'My sister Jenifry is coming to the castle with her little daughter. They'll be company for you.'
" 'Are they going to live here?' I asked.
" 'It'll be their home. You'll like that.'
"Jago has a way of telling you what you are going to like and almost daring you not to.
" 'What does my father say?' I asked, because I always wanted to know what my father was saying and doing. The only time I saw him was when he was at his window and I was in the gardens. I'd look up hopefully but he was always turning away then. I would see Fenwick pushing him about in his bath chair. I always had to keep out of the way then, and if he did catch sight of me he would behave as though I were invisible to him. I can feel the hot tears coming to my eyes now when I remember such times. I always wanted to shout out to him: 'What have I done? Tell me that'
"Fenwick was always very discreet. Jago said that my father couldn't do without Fenwick, nor Fenwick without my father.
"Now I am eagerly awaiting the coming of Jago's sister and his niece."
Another blank page which indicated that some time had passed.
Then: "Gwennol is about eight. She is bright and pretty. Baby would be about her age. I took a dislike to Jenifry. I think she resents my being the daughter of the house. The idea of anyone's being jealous of me is comic! But she is always trying to push Gwennol forward. Not that she need worry. Gwennol is so much more attractive than I could ever be. I'm glad they're here though. Gwennol shares my governess. She is much brighter than I ever was.
"Why did I start this writing? There's nothing to write about really. Every day is like another. I shan't do it any more."
There was no more writing in that book although there were many blank pages. I picked up the second.
"I was clearly not meant to be a diarist My life is so dull and I'm getting old now. Most girls have parties and eligible men around them. My father, I have been told, has said that he will not waste money on bringing me out. Jenifry sees that Gwennol has a certain social life. She has become quite friendly with Michael Hydrock, who is the most eligible bachelor in the neighborhood. Gwennol is excited by the fact that he has been particularly nice to her.
"She came to my room last night. She had just been rowed back from the mainland. Her eyes were bright and there was a lovely flush in her cheeks which goes beautifully with her dark hair.
" 'It was a sort of garden party at the Manor,' she said. 'Oh, what a beautiful house; peacocks on the lawn and that lovely lovely house. I hate this old castle. Don't you, Silva?'
" 'Yes,' I said. 'It's too full of the past. When I go near the dungeons I fancy I hear the screams of souls in torment.'
"'You would,' said Gwennol. 'People must have laughed here and been gay sometimes. There must have been feasting and revelry in the hall. Why do ghosts always have to be horrible? Why can't they be nice . . . like the ghost of Hydrock Manor? A benign old gentleman who says people have to be happy in the house. Michael told me the story today. It applies particularly to brides.'
" 'You're in love with him,'
