Green Darkness by Anya Seton Page A

awful.”
    “Did you tell your Mother?”
    “Oh, yes, I did.” Celia considered this with slight surprise. “She’s never shocked, never fusses. I always told her everything. She was very distressed, she soothed me and wrote the Yogi a blistering letter. We never saw him again, of course.”
    “And now you fear that Mrs. Taylor has entangled you with another such Yogi?” Akananda asked, amused.
    Celia colored, “Oh, I don’t mean
that.
I don’t know what I mean, and I love Mama, I trust her even when she makes mistakes. She always admits them, and has faith in people just the same.”
    “Your mother,” he said slowly, “is a fine woman. She seeks the truth, and often glimpses it. The bond between you is very strong.”
    She nodded, half exasperated. She didn’t want to talk about Lily. The whole conversation made her uncomfortable. “Oh, Mother’s all right. My whole
life
should be all right now. Oh, it will be, I’m sure.”
    Akananda sighed. “Yes, there’s something you desperately want, and you are
not
sure—to understand your husband. There are from the past appalling obstacles, I’m afraid, between you and your desire.” It was an authoritative statement.
    Celia started and her jaw tightened, “That’s a ridiculous remark, Doctor! Little tiffs are natural in marriage. I don’t know what you’re getting at anyway.”
    Akananda shook his head, “Poor child, your deep self knows very well what I mean. Why do you swallow and gasp so often, why are your hands trembling?”
    She clenched her hands tight. “Nerves,” she said angrily. “Everyone gets nervous symptoms, sometimes. Stop probing. You’ve no right to, and I don’t like it.”
    “That’s reasonable, and your privilege.” He spoke with patient dignity. “However, I
am
a physician, trained at the University of Calcutta, then Oxford, and Guy’s Hospital, and after that two years of psychiatry at the Maudesley in London. I am also a disciple of a great world teacher who was at one time called Nanak.”
    “Is he
dead?
” she asked, her anger ebbing.
    “He no longer inhabits a body,” said Akananda. “He’s passed beyond the disciplinary Karmic need to reincarnate.”
    “Oh,
that,
” she said. “I suppose it makes sense, or why are innocent babies born crippled, blind—why horrible injustices? Oh, I know half the world believes in rebirth, and even some things in the Bible seem to point that way. But, why can’t we remember past lives?”
    “Remembrance would usually be an intolerable burden, which All-merciful God spares us. For that matter, Lady Marsdon, do you consciously remember the first year or two of
this
life?”
    Celia shook her head. “But what difference does it make?” She was tired, drained, bored with the subject. And there was still resentment towards Akananda, who had disrupted her hopeful mood. “You don’t seem to be the sort of man who would bother to come to a silly weekend house party,” she said crossly. “Especially as you hardly know Mother, and the rest of us not at all.”
    He was silent, debating whether to answer her frankly. He read her mood and understood it, but after a moment he spoke what he knew to be truth.
    “I don’t want to annoy you, my dear child, but I believe I’ve known you and your mother before this lifetime, though I don’t know where. There’s a reason for my presence. Also, you have known some of the people at your house party before this. I’m quite sure of that. The great Karmic Law has now brought you to the brink of a precipice where a battle will take place.”
    “Indeed,” said Celia shrugging. “I hope the good guys win.” She fished in her bag and brought out her pink lipstick, applying it carefully. Her hand did not tremble, her throat was not constricted. She was only tired. “Sue, look!” She touched the girl’s shoulder. “Down there in the hollow, that must be the house we’re going to. Why, it really
does
have a moat!”
    The girl looked