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Storytime for Grownups
The Woman in White: Michelson 2 (Part 2) & Several Narratives (Part 1)
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Faith Moore
Hello and welcome to Storytime for Grown Ups. I'm Faith Moore and this season we're reading the Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. Each episode I'll read a few chapters from the book, pausing from time to time to give brief explanations so it's easier to follow along. It's like an audiobook with built in notes. So brew a pot of tea, find a cozy chair and settle in. It's story time. So I'm starting to feel like maybe actually the villain of this book is me leaving you with all these cliffhangers. What? Marion is still at Blackwater park and Laura has left to go to London and be met at the train station by Count Bosco. What is going on, you guys? What the heck? So we've got to figure this out. We've got to find out what is happening next. Thank you for all your emails. I got so many emails this time because of course, what is going on? We did not expect this at all. What a cliffhanger, right? So we will get into it. We will figure out what is going on, at least somewhat, I hope, and lots to talk about. So before we get into it, just a quick thank you to everyone that came to the tea time on Thursday. We had a lovely chat. I had really enjoy these tea times and thank you to those of you who were there. We talked about the book, we talked about our favorite villains in literature and movies and shows and we chatted more generally about writing. It's a really fun time. So if that's of any interest to you and you're not yet a member of the drawing room, just scroll down into the description of this episode and click that link. It doesn't mean you have to do anything. It doesn't take your money automatically or anything like that. It just gives you more information. So I hope that you'll click that and I hope you'll join us. We have room for more. There's always room for you tea time. So I hope that you will come. So thank you to those of you who were there. If tea time is not your thing but you would like to support the show, there is also a link to buy me a tea where you can support the show financially. That's also in the show notes. And of course, just subscribe and tap those five stars. Leave a positive review, tell a friend, buy some merch. There's a link to the merch store in the show notes as well. Those are all fantastic ways to support the show. And thank you to those of you who have done that and to those of you who are planning to do it, I really, really appreciate your support. And of course, write to me faithkmoore.com click on Contact. Send me your questions and thoughts because it's getting crazy in here and I love knowing what you think about that. And lastly, before we get into our recap and our questions and of course, the next chapter, just a reminder that I have kind of messed around a little bit with the chapter breaks in these episodes. Last time we got Mickelson's Narrative Chapter two, Part one, so I cut it in the middle with that crazy cliffhanger about Marian. And now we're going to read Mickelson's Narrative Chapter two, Part two, as well as half of the next section that's coming, which is called Several Narratives. So we're also going to get Several Narratives, Part one. So this is the second of three episodes that are going to be cut in this different way of my choosing. And as I said before, I'm doing this for time, that Mickelson's Narrative Chapter two was way too long for an episode, so I cut it in half. I'm also doing it to torture you. I mean, enthrall you with some cliffhangers and some suspense, some additional suspense. So that's just a reminder about why the title of this episode looks a little different. Okay, let's get into this. Last time, as I said, we read Mickelson's Narrative Chapter two, Part one. So here's the recap. Okay, so where we left off A few days after Sir Percival tells Mrs. Mickelson to dismiss all the servants, Sir Percival and count Fosco send Mrs. Mickelson away from Blackwater park to a town called Torquay, where she's supposed to look for a house where Laura and Marian can stay to improve their health before traveling to Cumberland, Mrs. Mickelson feels that she's been sent on a kind of fool's errand, since the particulars of the house and the small amount of money she's authorized to spend mean that she won't be able to find anything, which is what happens. And she comes back again, and in her absence she finds that Count Fosco and Madame Fosco have left unexpectedly for their house in London. She also learns that Laura has been waited on in her absence by Margaret Porcher, the dumb servant, which Mrs. Mickelson finds scandalous. So Mrs. Mickelson goes to check on her, and the two of them go and try to see how Marian is doing, but are stopped by Sir Percival, who tells him that Marian isn't actually there, that she left with the Foscos and Mrs. Rubell and went to London so that she could then travel on to Cumberland and speak to Mr. Fairlie so that she could convince him to let Laura come and stay. Laura is horrified to learn this and very upset to realize that Marian left without saying goodbye to her. She asks Mrs. Mickelson to stay with her and she goes to Sir Percival to insist that she follow Marian. Sir Percival agrees that she should go and that she should go the next day and she can sleep over with the Foscos. Laura doesn't want to sleep in Count Fosco's house and she feels certain that Fosco purposefully quarreled with Dr. Dawson to get him out of the house. And she decides that she will write to Mrs. Vasey and ask to stay with her in London. She's clearly worried that Marian is still at Count Fosco's house, not on her way to Cumberland, and that the Fosco's are holding her prisoner, essentially for some reason. So her plan is to go to the Fosco's, see if Marian is there, and if she's not, go and spend the night with Mrs. Vasey. She makes Mrs. Mickelson promise to put her letter to Mrs. Vasey in the mail herself, which Mrs. Mickelson does. And the next day Mrs. Mickelson takes Laura to the train station and puts her on the train to London. When she gets back to Blackwater Park, Mrs. Mickelson discovers that Mrs. Rubell didn't leave. In fact, she's still there and she learns from Mrs. Rubell. So is Marian. Okay, so I'm actually going to read five comments today. They're all very short, but I wanted to give you a sense again of what it's like out there in Storytime for Grown Ups World when you guys hear one of these cliffhangers. So here's the first one. It's from Michelle Watson. Michelle writes what? This plot twist gave me literal chills. I admit I didn't see it coming. Collins had me all prepped to follow Laura's dangerous journey to London, which is dramatic enough in itself. But then he reveals that Laura has been duped and me right along with her. The next one is from Rebecca Holman. Rebecca writes the way I screamed when you read that Marian had gone with Fosco and Madame Fosco, only to scream again when Mrs. Rubell said that she was still at Blackwater Park. I know something is about to happen and my flabber has been gassed. I didn't expect the story to go this way at all. This is from Amanda. Wow. Could Sir Percival act any more guilty? He can't even look Laura in the eye. This next one is from Jalyn Willis. I hope I'm saying that right. In my mind, the only two options for Marian is she is in one of the vacated staff rooms or she is in the grounds. Six feet under, to be exact. This is a really intense cliffhanger. This time I'm really enjoying the suspense. Thank you for this podcast. And I'm waiting anxiously for the next episode. And the last one comes from Alan Robison. I keep waiting for the bad factor to bottom out and the comeback to begin. Yet things keep getting worse and worse for our heroines, Laura and Marian. We need something to pin our trust to that things will get better. The cliffhanger you left us with is quite perfect. Right. Okay. So, yes, the big question right now is, what does it mean that Marian is still at Blackwater Park? Right. As Jalyn says, it seems like it could either mean that she's still there, hidden in the house somewhere. Where? We don't know why, we don't know, and in what state, we don't know. Right. Because if she was alert and able to, like, move around, then surely she'd be trying to get back to Laura. So either she's hidden in the house or she never left Blackwater park because she's dead and buried there. We really hope it's not that. I mean, many of you have written in to say that Marian is your favorite character, and I agree. She's my favorite character, too. I mean, okay, the Count is kind of my favorite character, but he's a bad guy. So Marian is my favorite good guy in the book. I think she's really the hero of the story in a lot of ways. So it would be awful if she was dead, but I think we have to consider that as a possibility at this point. But wherever she is, she isn't, according to Mrs. Rubell. Least, she isn't at Limmeridge House, where Percival said she was, and she isn't at Count Fosco's house in London, where Laura was afraid that she might still be. She never went to any of those places, apparently. Right. She's been here the whole time. Which means. And this goes to Allen's point about the fact that something needs to change soon. We can't just keep existing in this, like, swamp of unease and suspense forever. Something's got to give, Right? So this I think is the moment that the change happens, the first move of whatever thing is about to happen. It's happened. Right? Alan asked about the comeback, but we haven't even really had the come away or whatever. We haven't had the crime yet. So first we need to have the crime and then hopefully we can have a comeback. And I think this moment is the first step of the crime, whatever it's going to turn out to be. We don't know who did it, we don't know why it's been done, we don't know even what exactly has happened. But the first actual dastardly deed, so to speak, has been committed, which seems to be that Laura has been tricked into leaving Blackwater park without Marian. And looking back over the chapter that we read last time, we can see that Mrs. Mickelson was sent off, essentially on a fool's errand, right? She was supposed to go to some town and find a house that couldn't possibly exist for an amount of money that would never possibly be accepted in all of this. Right? She was sent away, basically, and when she came back, Marian was gone. So whatever happened to Marian seems like it happened during the time that she was away. And we can guess that she was probably sent away by Sir Percival and Count Fosco on purpose, so that whatever was done could be done. We don't know for sure, but that's what it's looking like at this point. So, you know, all this time we've been like, we know there's going to be a crime, we know it's going to be bad for Laura and Marian, we know it's going to involve Sir Percival and the Count somehow. But until now, nothing had actually happened, really. But now something has. An actual deception has taken place and an actual physical thing has happened, which is that Laura is now on her way to London to Count Fosco's house in London, no less, without Marian, not by some accident, not by some confusion, but through an actual act of subterfuge, right? She was tricked. She was told by Sir Percival that Marian had gone to Limmeridge to speak to Mr. Fairlie about allowing Laura to come. She was shown by Sir Percival that Marian's room was empty. Sir Percival showed her the letter from Mr. Fairley, which, if you remember from Mr. Fairley's narrative, count Fosco got him to write. So she sees this letter saying that Laura could come to Limmeridge and break her journey at Count Fosco's house in London. The whole thing was set up so that Laura would believe that Marian had gone and then leave by herself. Why? We don't know. And we don't even really know who tricked her at this point. I mean, the only person so far who has said anything about Marian being still at Blackwater park is Mrs. Rubell. So it's possible, I guess, that Mrs. Rubell is the criminal mastermind here. And Sir Percival actually thought that Marian had left. But as Amanda points out in her letter, Percival is looking pretty guilty. He's the one who told Laura where Marian supposedly went and showed Laura Marian's empty room and arranged for her to leave on the train and everything. Right. And as he was doing all of that, he was looking very shifty, right? He was refusing to meet Laura's eye. He was drinking too much wine. He was spilling the wine everywhere and everything. He's certainly acting like a man with a guilty conscience. And it's interesting because we've been saying that Fosco is our villain. He's the criminal mastermind here. Percival is just a thug. But now, at this first moment of something actually being done to Laura and Marian, it's Percival who's here to set things in motion, not Fosco. But of course, Fosco is apparently in his house in London waiting for Laura's arrival on the train. So that's scary. And also, Percival doesn't seem too happy with whatever's going on, right? He seems guilty, yes, but also sort of uncomfortable, like he's doing whatever he's doing. He doesn't seem to be wholeheartedly invested in it, maybe. Or invested in it enough to not feel guilty. I mean, the fact that he says he'll come back to see Laura off at the train and then he doesn't, that seems pretty telling to me as well. So something has happened. Laura has been tricked. She's on her way to London alone. Marian is still at Blackwater Park. Alive or dead, we don't know. And again, we saw Laura's strength, right, as she tried to figure out what to do. She's terrified to go to London alone. She's terrified to go into Count Fosco's house. She really believes that something awful is going to happen to her, you know? Did you notice when she said goodbye to Percival, she seemed to feel like this was goodbye forever. And I don't know about you, but I read that as her thinking that perhaps she was going to her death. Right? Here's what she said. This is our parting. Our parting. It may be forever. Will you try to forgive me? Percival as heartily as I forgive you, Right? Those sound sort of like last words or something. She's saying that she forgives him for whatever awful fate she thinks that he's sending her off to. And she hopes that he forgives her for loving Walter and not being able to be a good wife to him. And of course, she might just be afraid. That doesn't really tell us anything that's going to happen. She might be totally safe. But it does tell us that even though she's so afraid of what will happen to her in London, that she thinks she might die, she's going to go there because she believes that Marian is there and she wants to make sure she's all right. And she even showed a little bit of Marian's ingenuity. She made a plan, right? If she gets to Count Fosco's house and Marian isn't there, then she is going to go to Mrs. Vasey. And she had Mrs. Mickelson mail the letter to Mrs. Vasey herself. So she even rallied herself to make a plan and carry it out. And now she has a plan of escape that Percival and Fosco don't know about. So that's good. And it's another instance of her inner strength, I think. And so now, after all these instances of people who might be able to help them being taken away and taken away and taken away again, finally Laura is truly on her own. She's on the train to London by herself with essentially, Sir Percival at one end of the train line and Count Fosco at the other end waiting to pick her up in London. And we get this ominous line from Mrs. Mickelson. It says, I thank God. Looking to what happened afterwards, I thank God I never thwarted that wish or any other, which Lady Glyde expressed to me on the last day of her residence at Blackwater park. Which makes it seem at least that this thing that happened afterwards, quote, unquote, is bad, and that it concerns Laura. And it also tells us that she's not coming back to Blackwater park, right? It says, on the last day of her residence at Blackwater Park. So enough of this, right? We've got to figure out what's going on, what is up with Marian, what will happen to Laura when she gets to London, and will we even get to find out, standing as we are so far away from the action at this point? So let's get back into it. And of course, don't forget to write to me faithkmoore.com click on contact or just scroll on down into the show notes and check out all the links that are there. All right, let's get started with Mickelson's narrative, Chapter two, Part two, as well as several narratives. Part one of the Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. It's story time. When I heard that astounding answer, meaning when she heard that Marian is still in the house, all my thoughts were startled back on the instant to my parting with Lady Glyde. I can hardly say I reproached myself, but at that moment I think I would have given many a year's hard savings to have known four hours earlier what I knew. Now Mrs. Rubell waited, quietly arranging her nosegay, as if she expected me to say something. A nosegay is a small bouquet of flowers. I could say nothing. I thought of Lady Glyde's worn out energies and weak health, and I trembled for the time when the shock of the discovery that I had made would fall on her. For a minute or more, my fears for the poor ladies silenced me. At the end of that time, Mrs. Rubelle looked up sideways from her flowers and said, here is Sir Percival, ma'am, return from his ride. I saw him as soon as she did. He came towards us, slashing viciously at the flowers with his riding whip. When he was near enough to see my face, he stopped, struck at his boot with the whip, and burst out laughing so harshly and so violently that the birds flew away startled from the tree by which he stood. Well, Mrs. Mickleson, he said, you have found it out at last, have you? I made no reply. He turned to Mrs. Rubelle. When did you show yourself in the garden? I showed myself about an hour ago, sir. You said I might take my liberty again as soon as Lady Glyde had gone away to London. Quite right. I don't blame you. I only asked the question. He waited a moment and then addressed himself once more to me. You can't believe it, can you? He said mockingly. Here, come along and see for yourself. He led the way round to the front of the house. I followed him, and Mrs. Rubell followed me. After passing through the iron gates, he stopped and pointed with his whip to the disused middle wing of the building. There, he said, look up at the first floor. You know, the old Elizabethan bedrooms. Ms. Halcombe is snug and safe in one of the best of them at this moment. Take her in, Mrs. Rubell. You've got your key. Take Mrs. Mickelson in and let her own eyes satisfy her that there is no deception this time, the tone in which he spoke to me and the minute or two that had passed since we left the garden helped me to recover my spirits a little. What I might have done at this critical moment if all my life had been passed in service, I cannot say. As it was possessing the feelings, the principles and the bringing up of a lady, I could not hesitate about the right course to pursue. So she's saying that because she wasn't raised to be a servant, she has a higher sense of morality than she otherwise would. My duty to myself, and my duty to Lady Glyde alike, forbade me to remain in the employment of a man who had shamefully deceived us both by a series of atrocious falsehoods. So because she knows right from wrong, and she sees that a terrible wrong has been committed, she feels she has to quit. I must beg permission, Sir Percival, to speak a few words to you in private, I said. Having done so, I shall be ready to proceed with this person to Miss Halcombe's room. Mrs. Rubell, whom I had indicated by a slight turn of my head, insolently sniffed at her nosegay and walked away with great deliberation towards the house door. Well, Said Sir Percival sharply. What is it now? I wish to mention, sir, that I am desirous of resigning the situation I now hold at Blackwater Park. That was literally how I put it. I was resolved that the first words spoken in his presence should be words which expressed my intention to leave his service. He eyed me with one of his blackest looks and thrust his hands savagely into the pockets of his riding coat. Why? He said. Why, I should like to know. It is not for me, Sir Percival, to express an opinion on what has taken place in this house. I desire to give no offence. I merely wish to say that I do not feel it consistent with my duty to Lady Glyde and to myself to remain any longer in your service. Is it consistent with your duty to me to stand there casting suspicion on me to my face? He broke out in his most violent manner. I see what you're driving at. You have taken your own mean, underhand view of an innocent deception practised on Lady Glyde for her own good. It was essential to her health that she should have a change of air immediately. And you know as well as I do she would never have gone away if she had been told Miss Halcombe was still left here. She has been deceived in her own interests and I don't care who knows it. Go if you like. There are Plenty of housekeepers as good as you to be had for the taking. Go when you please, but take care how you spread scandals about me and my affairs when you're out of my service. Tell the truth and nothing but the truth, or it will be the worse for you. So he's threatening her that if she tells people what happened here and casts him in a bad light, he's going to make it so that she can't get another job. See Miss Halcombe for yourself. See if she hasn't been as well taken care of in one part of the house as in the other. Remember the doctor's own orders that Lady Glyde was to have a change of air at the earliest possible opportunity. Bear all that well in mind, and then say anything against me in my proceedings, if you dare. He poured out these words fiercely, all in a breath, walking backwards and forwards and striking about him in the air with his whip. Nothing that he said or did shook my opinion of the disgraceful series of falsehoods that he had told in my presence the day before, or of the cruel deception by which she had separated Lady Glyde from her sister and had sent her uselessly to London when she was half distracted with anxiety on Miss Halcombe's account. I naturally kept these thoughts to myself, and said nothing more to irritate him. But I was not the less resolved to persist in my purpose. A soft answer turneth away wrath, and I suppressed my own feelings accordingly when it was my turn to reply. While I am in your service, Sir Percival, I said, I hope I know my duty well enough not to inquire into your motives. When I am out of your service, I hope I know my own place well enough not to speak of matters which don't concern me. When do you want to go? He asked, interrupting me without ceremony. Me? Don't suppose I'm anxious to keep you. Don't suppose I care about your leaving the house. I'm perfectly fair and open in this matter from first to the last. When do you want to go? I should wish to leave at your earliest convenience, Sir Percival. My convenience has nothing to do with it. I shall be out of the house for good and all to morrow morning, and I can settle your accounts to night. If you want to study anybody's convenience, it had better be Ms. Halcomb's. Mrs. Rubelle's time is up to day, and she has reasons for wishing to be in London to night. If you'll go at once, Miss Halcombe won't have a soul left here to look after her. I hope it is unnecessary for me to say that I was quite incapable of deserting Miss Halcombe in such an emergency as had now befallen Lady Glyde and herself. After distinctly ascertaining from Sir Percival that Mrs. Rubell was certain to leave at once if I took her place, and after also obtaining permission to arrange for Mr. Dawson's resuming his attendance on his patient, I willingly consented to remain at Blackwater park until Miss Halcombe no longer required my services. It was settled that I should give Sir Percival's solicitor a week's notice before I left and that he was to undertake the necessary arrangements for appointing my successor. The matter was discussed in very few words. At its conclusion, Sir Percival abruptly turned on his heel and left me free to join Mrs. Rubelle. That singular foreign person had been sitting composedly on the doorstep all this time, waiting till I could follow her to Miss Halcombe's room. I had hardly walked half way towards the house when Sir Percival, who had withdrawn in the opposite direction, suddenly stopped and called me back. Why are you leaving my service? He asked. The question was so extraordinary after what had just passed between us that I hardly knew what to say in answer to it. Mind, I don't know why you are going, he went on. You must give a reason for leaving me, I suppose, when you get another situation. What reason? The breaking up of the family. Is that it? There can be no positive objection, Sir Percival to that reason. Very well, that's all I want to know. If people apply for your character, that's your reason stated by yourself. You go in consequence of the breaking up of the family. So he's asking her to agree on a story so that if anyone asks why she left, they can just say because Laura was going to Cumberland and Sir Percival is going wherever Sir Percival is going. He turned away again before I could say another word and walked out rapidly into the ground. His manner was as strange as his language, I acknowledge. He alarmed me. Even the patience of Mrs. Rubell was getting exhausted when I joined her at the house door. At last she said with a shrug of her lean foreign shoulders. She led the way into the inhabited side of the house, ascended the stairs and opened with her key the door at the end of the passage which communicated with the old Elizabethan room roomsa door never previously used in my time at Blackwater Park. The rooms themselves I knew well, having entered them myself on various occasions. From the other side of the house. Mrs. Rubell stopped at the third door along the old gallery, handed Me the key of it with the key of the door of communication, and told me I should find Miss Halcombe in that room before I went in. I thought it desirable to make her understand that her attendance had ceased. Accordingly, I told her in plain words that the charge of the sick lady henceforth devolved entirely on myself. I am glad to hear it, ma'am, said Mrs. Rubelle. I want to go very much. Do you leave to day? I asked, to make sure of her. Now that you have taken charge, ma'am, I leave in half an hour's time. Sir Percival has kindly placed at my disposition the gardener and the chaise whenever I want them. I shall want them in half an hour's time to go to the station. I am packed up in anticipation already. I wish you good day, ma'am. She dropped a brisk curtsy and walked back along the gallery, humming a little tune and keeping time to it cheerfully with the nosegay in her hand. I am sincerely thankful to say that was the last I saw of Mrs. Rubell. When I went into the room, Miss Halcombe was asleep. I looked at her anxiously as she lay in the dismal high old fashioned bed. She was certainly not in any respect altered for the worse since I had seen her last. She had not been neglected, I am bound to admit, in any way that I could perceive. The room was dreary and dusty and dark, but the window looking on a solitary courtyard at the back of the house was open to let in some fresh air, and all that could be done to make the place comfortable had been done. The whole cruelty of Sir Percival's deception had fallen on poor Lady Glyde. The only ill usage which either he or Mrs. Rubell had inflicted on Miss Halcombe consisted, so far as I could see, in the first offence of hiding her away. So no harm has come to Marian. She's been well looked after. So the only bad thing that Sir Percival did was to tell Laura that Marian was gone. When she was really still here, I stole back, leaving the sick lady still peacefully asleep, to give the gardener instructions about bringing the doctor. I begged the man, after he had taken Mrs. Rubell to the station, to drive round by Mr. Dawson's and leave a message in my name asking him to call and see me. I knew he would come on my account, and I knew he would remain when he found Count Fosco had left the house. In due course of time the gardener returned and said that he had driven round by Mr. Dawson's residence after leaving Mrs. Rubell at the station the doctor sent me word that he was poorly in health himself but that he would call if possible, the next morning. Having delivered his message, the gardener was about to withdraw. But I stopped him to request that he would come back after dark and sit up that night in one of the empty bedrooms so as to be within call in case I wanted him. He understood readily enough my unwillingness to be left alone at night in the most desolate part of that desolate house. House. And we arranged that he should come in between eight and nine. He came punctually, and I found cause to be thankful that I had adopted the precaution of calling him in before midnight. Sir Percival's strange temper broke out in the most violent and most alarming manner. And if the gardener had not been on the spot to pacify him on the instant, I am afraid to think what might have happened. Almost all the afternoon and evening he had been walking about the house and grounds in an unsettled, excitable manner, having in all probability, as I thought, taken an excessive quantity of wine at his solitary dinner. However that may be. I heard his voice calling loudly and angrily in the new wing of the house as I was taking a turn backwards and forwards along the gallery. The last thing at night. The gardener immediately ran down to him and I closed the door of communication, meaning the door between the old wing where she is and the new one to keep the alarm, if possible, from reaching Miss Halcombe's ears. It was full half an hour before the gardener came back. He declared that his master was quite out of his senses, not through the excitement of drink, as I had supposed, but through a kind of panic or frenzy of mind for which it was impossible to account. He had found Sir Percival walking backwards and forwards by himself in the hall, swearing with every appearance of the most violent passion that he would not stop another minute alone in such a dungeon as his own house and that he would take the first stage of his journey immediately in the middle of the night. The gardener, on approaching him, had been hunted out with oaths and threats to get the horse and chaise ready instantly. In a quarter of an hour, Sir Percival had joined him in the yard, had jumped into the chaise and lashing the horse into a gallop, had driven himself away with his face as pale as ashes in the moonlight. The gardener had heard him shouting and cursing at the lodge keeper to get up and open the gate, had heard the wheels roll furiously on again in the still night when the gate was unlocked and knew no more. The next day, or a day or two after, I forget which. The chaise was brought back from Knowlesbury, our nearest town, by the ostler at the old inn. An ostler is someone who takes care of horses. Sir Percival had stopped there and had afterwards left by the train, for what destination the man could not tell. I never received any further information, either from himself or from anyone else, of Sir Percival's proceedings. And I am not even aware at this moment whether he is in England or out of it. He and I have not met since he drove away like an escaped criminal from his own house. House. And it is my fervent hope and prayer that we may never meet again. My own part of this sad family story is now drawing to an end. I have been informed that the particulars of Miss Halcombe's waking and of what passed between us when she found me sitting by her bedside are not material to the purpose which is to be answered by the present narrative. It will be sufficient for me to say in this place that she was not herself conscious of the means adopted to remove her from the inhabited to the uninhabited inhabited part of the house. She was in a deep sleep at the time. Whether naturally or artificially produced, she could not say. So Marion wasn't aware of being moved and she just woke up in this new room, not knowing how she got there. In my absence at Torquay, and in the absence of all the resident servants except Margaret Porcher, who was perpetually eating, drinking or sleeping when she was not at work, the secret transfer of Miss Halcombe from one part of the house to the other was no doubt easily performed. Mrs. Rubelle, as I discovered for myself in looking about the room, had provisions and all other necessaries, together with the means of heating, water, broth and so on, without kindling, a fire placed at her disposal. During the few days of her imprisonment with the sick lady, she had declined to answer the questions which Miss Halcombe naturally put, but had not, in other respects, treated her with unkindness or neglect. The disgrace of lending herself to a vile deception is the only disgrace with which I can conscientiously charge Mrs. Rubell. I need write no particulars, and I am relieved to know it of the effect produced on Miss Halcombe by the news of Lady Glyde's departure, or by the far more melancholy tidings which reached us only too soon afterwards at Blackwater Park. In both cases, I prepared her mind beforehand, as gently and as carefully as possible, having the doctor's advice to guide me in the last case only through Mr. Dawson's being too unwell to come to the house for some days after I had sent for him. It was a sad time, a time which it afflicts me to think of or to write of now. The precious blessings of religious consolation which I endeavoured to convey were long in reaching Miss Halcombe's heart. But I hope and believe they came home to her at last. I never left her till her strength was restored. The train which took me away from that miserable house was the train which took her away also. We parted very mournfully in London. I remained with a relative at Islington, and she went on to Mr. Fairlie's house in Cumberland. I have only a few lines more to write before I close this painful statement. They are dictated by a sensation of duty. In the first place, I wish to record my own personal conviction that no blame whatever in connection with the events which I have now related attaches to Count Fosco. I am informed that a dreadful suspicion has been raised and that some very serious constructions are placed upon his lordship's conduct. My persuasion of the count's innocence remains, however, quite unshaken. If he assisted Sir Percival in sending me to Torquay, he assisted under a delusion for which, as a foreigner and a stranger, he is not to blame. If he was concerned in bringing Mrs. Rebel to Blackwater park, it was his misfortune and not his fault. When that foreign person was base enough to assist a deception planned and carried out by the master of the house. I protest, in the interests of morality against blame being gratuitously and wantonly attached to the proceedings of the count. In the second place, I desire to express my regret at my own inability to remember the precise day on which Lady Glyde left Blackwater park for London. I am told that it is of the last importance to ascertain the exact date of that lamentable journey, and I have anxiously taxed my memory to recall it. The effort has been in vain. I can only remember now that it was towards the latter part of July. We all know the difficulty, after a lapse of time, of fixing precisely on a past date, unless it has been previously written down. That difficulty is greatly increased in my case by the alarming and confusing events which took place about the period of Lady Glyde's departure. I heartily wish I had made a memorandum at the time. I heartily wish my memory of the date was as vivid as my memory of that poor lady's face. Face when it looked at me sorrowfully for the last time from the carriage window. The Story continued in several narratives. 1. The narrative of Hester Pinhorn, cook in the service of Count Fosco, taken down from her own statement. I am sorry to say that I have never learned to read or write. I have been a hard working woman all my life and have kept a good character. I know that it is a sin and wickedness to say the thing which is not, and I will truly beware of doing so on this occasion. All that I know I will tell, and I humbly beg the gentleman who takes this down to put my language right as he goes on, and to make allowances for my being no scholar. In this last summer I happened to be out of place, meaning she didn't have a job. Through no fault of my own, and I heard of a situation as plain cook at number 5 Forest Road, St. John's Wood. I took the place on trial. My master's name was Fosco. My mistress was an English lady. He was Count and she was Countess. There was a girl to do housemaid's work. When I got there she was not over clean or tidy, but there was no harm in her. I and she were the only servants in the house. House? Our master and mistress came after we got in, and as soon as they did come we were told downstairs that company was expected from the country. The company was my mistress's niece and the back bedroom on the first floor was got ready for her. My mistress mentioned to me that Lady Glyde, that was her name, was in poor health, and that I must be particular in my cooking. Accordingly she was to come that day as well as I can remember. But whatever you do, don't trust my memory in the matter. I am sorry to say. It's no use asking me about days of the month and such like, except Sundays half my time I take no heed of them, being a hard working woman and no scholar. All I know is Lady Glyde came and when she did come, a fine fright she gave us all. Surely I don't know how master brought her to the house, being hard at work at the time, but he did bring her in the afternoon, I think, and the housemaid opened the door to them and showed them into the parlour parlor. Before she had been long down in the kitchen again with me we heard a hurry scurry upstairs and the parlour bell ringing like mad, and my mistress's voice calling out for help. We both ran up and there we saw the lady laid on the sofa with her face ghastly white and her hands fast Clenched and her head drawn down to one side. She had been taken with a sudden fright, my mistress said, and, master, he told us she was in a fit of convulsions. I ran out, knowing the neighborhood a little better than the rest of them, to fetch the nearest doctor's help. The nearest help was at Goodrich's and Garth's, who worked together as partners and had a good name and connection, as I have heard, all round St John's Wood. Mr. Goodrick was in, and he came back with me directly. It was some time before he could make himself of much use. The poor unfortunate lady fell out of one fit into another, and went on so till she was quite wearied out and as helpless as a newborn babe. We then got her to bed. Mr. Goodrick went away to his house for medicine, and came back again in a quarter of an hour or less. Besides the medicine, he brought a bit of hollow mahogany wood with him, shaped like a kind of trumpet, and after waiting a little while, he put one end over the lady's heart and the other to his ear and listened carefully. When he had done, he said to my mistress, who was in the room, this is a very serious case, he says. I recommend you to write to Lady Glyde's friends directly. My mistress says to him, is it heart disease? And he says, yes, heart disease of a most dangerous kind. He told her exactly what he thought was the matter, which I was not clever enough to understand, but I know this. He ended by saying that he was afraid Neither his help nor any other doctor's help was likely to be of much service. Meaning the doctor thinks that Laura is dying. My mistress took this ill news more quietly than my master. He was a big, fat, odd sort of elderly man who kept birds and white mice and spoke to them as if they were so many Christian children. He seemed terribly cut up by what had happened. Ah, poor Lady Glyde. Poor dear Lady Glyde, he says, and went stalking about, wringing his fat hands more like a play actor than a gentleman. For one question, my mistress asked the doctor about the lady's chances getting round. He asked a good 50 at least. I declare, he quite tormented us all. And when he was quiet at last, out he went into the bit of back garden, picking trumpery little nosegays and asking me to take them upstairs and make the sick room look pretty with them, as if that did any good. I think he must have been at times a little soft in his head, but he was not a bad master. He had a monstrous civil tongue. Of his own, and a jolly, easy, coaxing way with them. I liked him a deal better than my mistress. She was a hard one, if ever there was a hard one. Yet towards nighttime the lady roused up a little. She had been so wearied out before that by the convulsions, that she never stirred hand or foot or spoke a word to anybody. She moved in the bed now and stared about her at the room and us in it. She must have been a nice looking lady when, well, with light hair and blue eyes and all that. Her rest was troubled at night at least. So I heard from my mistress, who sat up alone with her. I only went in once before going to bed to see if I could be of any use. And then she was talking to herself in a confused, rambling manner. She seemed to want sadly to speak to somebody who was absent from her somewhere. I couldn't catch the name the first time. And the second time master knocked at the door with his regular mouth full of questions and another of his trumpery nosegays. When I went in early the next morning, the lady was clean wore out again, and lay in a kind of faint sleep. Mr. Goodricke brought his partner, Mr. Garth, with him to advise. They said she must not be disturbed out of her rest on any account. They asked my mistress many questions at the other end of the room about what the lady's health had been in past times, and who had attended her, and whether she had ever suffered much and long together under distress of mind. I remember my mistress said yes to that last question, and Mr. Goodrick looked at Mr. Garth and shook his head, and Mr. Garth looked at Mr. Goodrick and shook his head. They seemed to think that the distress might have something to do with the mischief at the lady's heart. She was but a frail thing to look at, poor creature. Very little strength at any time. I should say very little strength. Later on the same morning when she woke, the lady took a sudden turn and got seemingly a great deal better. I was not let in again to see her. No more was the housemaid for the reason that she was not to be disturbed by strangers. What I heard of her being better was through my master. He was in wonderful good spirits about the change, and looked in at the kitchen window from the garden with his great big curly brimmed white hat on to go out. Good, Mrs. Cooke, look, says he, Lady Glyde is better. My mind is more easy than it was, and I am going out to stretch my big legs with a sunny little summer walk. Shall I Order for you. Shall I market for you, Mrs. Cook? What are you making there? A nice tart for dinner. Much crust, if you please. Much crisp crust, my dear, that melts and crumbles delicious in the mouth. That was his way. He was past 60 and fond of pastry. Just think of that. The doctor came again in the forenoon and saw for himself that Lady Glyde had woken up. Better he forbid us to talk to her, or to let her talk to us, in case she was that way disposed posed, saying she must be kept quiet before all things and encouraged to sleep as much as possible. She did not seem to want to talk whenever I saw her, except overnight, when I couldn't make out what she was saying. She seemed too much worn down. Mr. Goodrick was not nearly in such good spirits about her as Master. He said nothing when he came downstairs, except that he would call again at 5:00, about that time. Time which was before Master came home again. The bell rang hard from the bedroom and my mistress ran out into the landing and called to me to go for Mr. Goodricke and tell him the lady had fainted. I got my bonnet and shawl. When, as good luck would have it, the doctor himself came to the house for his promised visit. I let him in and went upstairs along with him. Lady Glyde was just as usual, says my mistress to him at the door. She was awake and looking about her in a strange forlorn manner when I heard her give a sort of half cry and she fainted in a moment. The doctor went up to the bed and stooped down over the sick lady. He looked very serious all on a sudden at the sight of her and put his hand on her heart. My mistress stared hard in Mr. Goodricke's face. Not dead, says she, whispering and turning all of a tremble from head to foot. Yes, says the doctor, very quiet and grave. Dead. I was afraid it would happen suddenly when I examined her heart yesterday. My mistress stepped back from the bedside while he was speaking and trembled and trembled again. Dead, she whispers to herself. Dead so suddenly. Dead so soon. What will the Count say? Mr. Goodrick advised her to go downstairs and quiet herself a little. You have been sitting up all night, says he, and your nerves are shaken. This person, says he, meaning me. This person will stay in the room till I can send for the necessary assistance. My mistress did as he told her. I must prepare the count, she said. I must carefully prepare the count. And so she left us shaking from head to foot and went out. Your master is a foreigner, says Mr. Goodricke, when my mistress had left us. Does he understand about registering the death? I can't rightly tell, sir, says I, but I should think not. The doctor considered a minute and then he says, I don't usually do such things, says he, but it may save the family trouble in this case. If I register the death myself, I shall pass the district office in half an hour's time and I can easily look in Mention, if you please, that I will do so. Yes, sir, says I, with thanks, I'm sure, for your kindness in thinking of it, you don't mind staying here till I can send you the proper person, says he. No, sir, says I. I'll stay with the poor lady till then. I suppose nothing more could be done, sir, than was done, says I. No, says he, nothing. She must have suffered sadly before I ever saw her. The case was hopeless when I was called in. Ah, dear me, we all come to it sooner or later, don't we, sir, says I. He gave no answer to that. He didn't seem to care about talking. He said good day and went out. I stopped by the bedside from that time till the time when Mr. Goodrich sent the person in as he had promised. She was by name Jane Gould. I considered her to be a respectable looking woman. She made no remark except to say that she understood what was wanted of her and that she had winded a many of them in her time. So Jane Gould is here to prepare the body for burial. How master bore the news when he first heard it is more than I can tell, not having been present when I did see him. He looked awfully overcome by it, to be sure. He sat quiet in a corner with his fat hands hanging over his thick knees and his head down and his eyes looking at nothing. He seemed not so much sorry as scared and dazed like by what had happened. My mistress managed all that was to be done about the funeral. It must have cost a sight of money, the coffin in particular being most beautiful. The dead lady's husband was away, as we heard, in foreign parts, but my mistress, being her aunt, settled it with her friends in the country, Cumberland. I think that she should be buried there in the same grave, along with her mother. So Percival has left the country, but it's arranged that Laura is going to be buried in Cumberland, in her mother's grave in the churchyard. Everything was done handsomely in respect of the funeral. I say again. And Master went down to attend the burying in the country himself. He looked grand in his deep mourning, with his big solemn face and his slow walk and his broad hat band. That he did. In conclusion, I have to say in answer to questions put to me. 1. That neither I nor my fellow servant ever saw my master give Lady Glyde any medicine himself. 2. That he was never, to my knowledge and belief, left alone in the room with Lady Glyde. 3. That I am not able to say what caused the sudden fright which my mistress informed me had seized the lady on her first coming into the house. The cause was never explained either to me or to my fellow servant. The above statement has been read over in my presence. I have nothing to add to it or to take away from it. I say, on my oath as a Christian woman, this is the truth. Signed Hester Pinhorn. 2. The narrative of the doctor to the registrar of the sub district in which the undermentioned death took place. I hereby certify that I attended Lady Glyde, aged 21, last birthday. That I last saw her on Thursday 25th July, 1850. That she died on the same day at Number 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood, and that the cause of her death was aneurism, duration of disease not known. Signed Alfred Goodrich, Professor, MRCS ING LSA. Address 12 Croydon Gardens, St. John's Wood. 3. The narrative of Jane Gould. I was the person sent in by Dr. Goodrick to do what was right and needful by the remains of a lady who had died at the house named in the certificate which precedes this. I found the body in charge of the servant, Hester Pinhorn. I remained with it and prepared it at the proper time for the grave. It was laid in the coffin in my presence, and I afterwards saw the coffin screwed down previous to its removal. When that had been done and not before, I received what was due to me, meaning she was paid and left the house. I refer persons who may wish to investigate my character to Mr. Goodrick. He will bear witness that I can be trusted to tell the truth. Signed Jane Gould. 4. The narrative of the tombstone sacred to the memory of Laura Lady Glyde, wife of Sir Percival Glyde, Baronet of Blackwater Park, Hampshire, and daughter of the Late Philip Fairlie, Esq. Of Limmeridge House in this parish. Born March 27, 1829. Married December 22, 1849. Died July 25, 1850. Thank you so much for listening. I'd love to know what you thought of the chapters. Is there anything you'd like me to clarify? Did something particularly interest you? Please go to my website, faithkmoore.com click on contact and send me your questions and thoughts. Or you can click on the link in the Show Notes to contact me. I'll feature one or two of your entries at the start of the next episode. Speaking of links, don't forget to take a look at the other links in the Show Notes. You can learn more about me, check out our merch store or pick up one of my books. Before I go I'd like to ask a quick favor. 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