Poverty Castle by John Robin Jenkins Page B

becoming richer. For example, Poverty Castle would cost about forty thousand pounds but in the end would be worth more than sixty thousand. Papa was of course pleased about thisincrease but for some reason he was also a little ashamed. Mama begged the girls not to pester him for explanations.
    Effie proposed that they should go and take a close look at the Big House. As far as they knew there was no one there except a caretaker and his wife. Papa was consulted. He saw no objections as long as they didn’t peer through windows.
    One sunny afternoon they set off, cycling along the main road until they came to their own road that led to Poverty Castle. There was a new gate of wrought iron, to which Papa intended to have fixed a plate with the name of the house. Hiding their bicycles under bracken they took to the wood, stealthy as Red Indians. Coming upon some wood pigeon feathers Effie, Jeanie and Rebecca stuck them in their hair. Diana thought it was too childish for her. Rowena was wearing a white sunhat. It was to keep her face from becoming freckled.
    They came to a small green field laid out with red-and-white hurdles for horses to jump over. Whooping, Effie and Jeanie climbed the fence and began jumping. Crows in the tops of trees made a great clamour, alerting any gamekeeper within half a mile. Diana refused to ask her sisters to make less noise. They were doing no harm and were enjoying themselves. Even little Rebecca was pretending she was a pony.
    Rowena’s hat and dress were still remarkably clean. She perched on a hurdle and imagined she was their mother. She shook her head at the antics of Effie and Jeanie but smiled at Rebecca’s dainty and cautious jumps.
    Suddenly they heard dogs barking. More interested than alarmed, for they all liked dogs, the girls watched and waited. Down the road raced two big Labradors, one black and the other golden. Foaming at the mouth, they made for the trespassers.
    â€˜Aren’t they beautiful?’ cried Jeanie, but her voice trembled a little.
    â€˜Keep together,’ shouted Diana as she ran in front of her sisters.
    Rebecca was frightened. The dogs were so big and strong that they could easily send her sprawling.
    Rowena assumed the part of a heroine about to die bravely.
    Then they saw the lady. She was running after the dogs and yelling to them to come back. Two boys followed her.
    â€˜Good dogs,’ cried Diana, shielding her sisters. ‘Good dogs.’
    Puzzled at finding that the insolent intruders were really harmless little girls the dogs snuffled and whimpered. Patted on the head they responded with slobbery kisses.
    Being so small Rebecca had to be protected.
    The lady arrived, red-faced and panting. She was not pleased to see that the trespassers, to save whom from being torn to pieces she had run harder than she had done for years, were patting and hugging their supposed savagers.
    â€˜Who the hell are you?’ she gasped.
    They weren’t shocked, because Papa sometimes said ‘Hell!’ but they did show on their faces amazement that a lady so well dressed and with such a posh accent (though her voice was a bit rough) should use such language. They guessed that she must be the lady from the Big House.
    â€˜Our name is Sempill,’ said Diana, with dignity. ‘I’m Diana.’
    Her sisters gave their names.
    â€˜I’m Effie.’
    â€˜I’m Jeanie.’
    â€˜I’m Rowena.’
    â€˜I’m Rebecca.’
    â€˜Good God! Where have you come from? What are you doing here? Don’t you know this is private property?’
    â€˜We apologise,’ said Diana. ‘We did not know you were in residence. Our father has bought Poverty Castle. It’s not far from here.’ She turned and pointed. ‘He’s having it repaired.’
    â€˜So that’s who you are!’ Lady Campton was not readily embarrassed but she did not find it easy to meet those five frank critical gazes. They