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course—but I’ll teach him to say naughty words in English, like
    “damn”.’ She giggled delightedly at the idea. ‘Of course if he’s a namby-pamby, I’ll get rid of him too,’ she added with conviction.
    ‘You’ll have me to deal with, remember!’ I said shortly.
    ‘But you won’t be with him all the time and I can think of all sorts of things I could do.’ Her eyes grew dreamy. ‘I’m a witch, you know. I shall lay a curse on him and he’ll probably wilt away bit by bit.’
    I regarded her in silence. There was something strange and fey about the child and it wasn’t hard to credit Mrs. Kinnefer’s judgement that she was bewitched. However, I told myself dryly, the fact that I was in Cornwall mustn’t make me indulge in such fantasies. It was more probable, as Paul said, that the child was simply looking for notice. But what was wrong with her life that she should have this craving for attention?
    ‘So Mr. Seaton is your uncle.’
    She nodded. ‘When Mummy and Daddy had to go to Africa they decided to leave me with Uncle Garth. I like him better than anyone else in the whole world.’ She frowned balefully. ‘I expect you think he’ll marry you. All the governesses who come here are crazy about him and want to marry him.’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said crisply. ‘It’s obvious you suffer from too much imagination. Why on earth should all the governesses fall in love with your uncle? You’ve put him on a pedestal, obviously. I’m afraid there are few people in the world who inspire such devotion.’
    She looked interested. ‘Then you think he’s got feet of clay?’
    ‘I said no such thing,’ I replied sharply. It was foolish to have spoken to the child as though she were an adult. I was uncomfortably aware she might make capital of my remark.
    She giggled and changed the subject abruptly. ‘The maids got hysterics the other night. It was so funny to see them rushing out of their rooms screaming their heads off when I went around wailing horribly and clanking some rusty old chains I found in the stables. They told Mrs. Kinnefer the next day that they were all leaving and she was frightfully upset because she knew Uncle Garth would be furious when he came back and found the staff gone. And she can’t really prove anything, you know. She didn’t actually see me do it. In the end the servants agreed to stay, which was a pity, really. Do you mind if I finish off your pudding?’ she continued.
    A little startled at the change in conversation, I said quickly,
    ‘No, of course not. Take it if you wish.’
    She crossed to the tray and helped herself to the portion I had left, for Mrs. Kinnefer believed in giving gargantuan helpings and I had been unable to finish it.
    She finished off the pudding in silence and then licked the spoon thoughtfully. ‘Don’t you like date pudding?’ Her pale eyes were inquisitive.
    I hesitated and she said with the contempt that was habitual with her, ‘Oh, you needn’t be afraid I’ll tell Mrs. Kinnefer and hurt her precious feelings. I just wanted to know as a matter of interest.’
    ‘You sound like Rosa Dartle,’ I smiled.

    She looked at me suspiciously. ‘Who’s Rosa Dartle?’
    ‘She’s a character in one of Dickens’ novels.’
    ‘Uncle Garth has some of his books in the library, but they’re boring and old-fashioned—the kind of thing Cousin Eunice reads.’
    ‘Cousin Eunice?’ I knew I shouldn’t have asked, of course, but I was anxious to know the set-up at Tregillis as soon as possible.
    She looked at me coldly. ‘I shan’t tell you any more. You can find out for yourself, so there.’ She chased the last crumb of pudding round the dish and then replaced it on the tray. ‘I expect that when this French boy comes we’ll be having snails for lunch.’
    As she saw my look of revulsion she said with interest, ‘Don’t you like snails?’
    ‘Not particularly,’ I admitted.
    ‘Well, I shouldn’t mind a bit,’ she said