Here Comes a Candle by Jane Aiken Hodge Page A

first of these New England churches was said to have been designed by Sir Christopher Wren, she could only nod wordlessly.
    Jonathan had been right. It was almost dark, with lights showing here and there in cottage windows, when he leaned forward to give an order to the driver. “ We turn off the Boston road here, ” he explained. “ Not much further now. I hope you ’ re not quite worn out. ”
    “ Of course not. ” She sat up a little straighter. “ But I confess I ’ ll be glad to get there. ” Would she? Suddenly, she was fighting panic. Suppose Arabella refused to have her ... Suppose little Sarah took an instant dislike to her ... With a hand that would shake, she tucked rebellious strands of hair closer under the brim of her bonnet.
    “ Don ’ t worry. ” He was too good at reading her thoughts. “ Just remember how badly we need you. ”
    “ Oh, thank you. ” It would be absurd to disclaim anxiety. “ I ’ ll feel better when I ’ ve met Sarah. ”
    “ I hope so. ” It was not altogether encouraging.
    It had rained a little just after sunset, and the leather sides of the coach were still up, but she could feel that they were beginning to climb. She leaned forward to peer o ut into the gathering darkness. “ I wish I could see. ”
    “ It ’ s the beginning of the Gray Hills. So far, the road ’ s kept close to the Charles River, but now we ’ ve turned off to go over the ridge. Penrose lies on the far side, on the Penrose River. You English would no doubt consider it a romantic situation, since the house is just above the falls. I look on it as a good one, as they provide the power for my mill. ”
    “ Is it so bad to be romantic? ”
    “ It ’ s an expensive luxury, that ’ s all, and one we Penroses have not been able to afford since my grandfather took the romantic line and stood out for God and King George—poor old lunatic. ”
    “ You mean your grandfather? ” Irritated suddenly, she mistook him on purpose.
    “ No: King George. ” He refused to be drawn. “ Though, mind you, Grandfather was crazy enough. Anyone with half an eye could have seen what the upshot of that war was bound to be. ”
    “ And can you foretell the result of this one as easily? ”
    She was too tired to conceal her irritation.
    “ A draw, of course. ” Her tone of challenge at once roused and amused him. “ We will agree to differ, or differ to agree, if you prefer it like that. ”
    “ I think you are talking a great deal of nonsense. ” It came out sharper than she had meant, and she turned it off with a question. “ Where does your land begin? ”
    “ On the top of the ridge. We used to own the whole section. One of these days I ’ ll buy it back—I hope. There, we ’ re over the ridge now; we ’ re almost home. ” He was leaning forward eagerly. “ There—there it is. Those are the lights of Penrose. I ’ m sorry you should see it first m the dark. ” He spoke with automatic courtesy, his thoughts already at the house.
    Penrose was a blur of lights, hazy through a new fall of rain that blew into the crevices of the leather curtains, w hen the carnage wheels found smooth surface. “ Ah, ” said Jonathan, “ that ’ s better. I had the drive graveled last year. Can you tell the difference? ”
    “ Yes, indeed. ” The lights were very near now. The driver pulled up his horses. Penrose.
    She was aware, as Jonathan helped her down, of the looming bulk of a big three-story house, its shape defined against the sky by a scattering of ill umin ated windows. Now the front door swung open and light from inside showed a handsome pillared portico with three shallow steps. An elderly colored man advanced to meet them: “ Welcome home, Mr. Jonathan. ”
    “ How are you, Job? How ’ s everything? ”
    “ She ’ s fine, Mr. Jonathan. She ’ s missed you, I think. ”
    “ Not speaking? ” Now, belatedly, Kate realized that they were talking of Sarah.
    “ No, nor smiling neither. Not since