A Dream from the Night Read online

  It was then that the sense of adventure began to seep over her and for the first time she felt excited rather than apprehensive of what lay ahead of her.

  After all it would be thrilling to see Kelvedon House because it was, as she had thought, one of the most important houses in England.

  She had found a whole article about it in a back number of The Illustrated London News.

  Kelvedon House, she discovered, had been built in the reign of Queen Elizabeth on the site of a Monastery.

  The house had been erected in three stages, first by building on to what remained after the suppression of the monasteries by Henry VIII in 1536.

  Then some years later it had been enlarged and made resplendent by the first Earl of Kelvedon who was Chamberlain to Queen Elizabeth.

  Finally it had been completed and became even more magnificent at the end of the sixteenth century.

  ‘It sounds very wonderful,’ Olinda had said to herself as she looked at the drawing of the house that ornamented the centre of the article.

  Then she went on to read of the consequence of its owner. He was, she discovered, sixty-five, but he still held great posts at Court and was constantly in waiting on Queen Victoria.

  A long account of his importance in the County followed and at the end of the article it stated that he had married Lady Rosaline Alward, daughter of the Duke of Hull, and had as issue one son.

  Olinda turned to the front page of The Illustrated London News and found that it was five years old.

  ‘That means’ she thought, ‘that the Earl must now be dead since the letter came from the Dowager Countess of Kelvedon.’

  She had put the magazine away and did not mention the present Earl, feeling that it might make Lady Selwyn more apprehensive than she already was.

  She could not help wondering, however, how old the son might be. It seemed likely that he was about forty and therefore would not constitute the sort of danger her mother feared.

  ‘Poor Mama,’ Olinda thought. ‘She still thinks that we are moving in smart Society. She does not understand that poverty makes quite sure that one’s station in life is a very low one.’

  As she packed for the journey, it had not been a matter of choosing which clothes she should take with her but of taking everything she had.

  They were all simple plain dresses she had made herself and she thought perhaps that if Kelvedon House was as grand as it had looked in the article it was a good thing that she would be confined to the back quarters.

  There she would not encounter the fashionable ladies or the dashing gentlemen who would be entertained in the State apartments.

  At the same time she knew that that was where she would actually be working.

  There had been a reference made to Queen Elizabeth’s bedroom and the great bed she had slept in.

  There was another room that was known of as the ‘Duchesse de Mazarin’s Room’ for it was here, the article said, that Charles II’s mistress, Hortense de Mazarin had slept.

  Because she had greatly enjoyed her visit, she had given her host and hostess magnificent French hangings for the bed, which were still intact.

  Olinda had brought with her a work-case filled with embroidery silks, but she was quite certain that she would require a great deal more.

  She only hoped that the Dowager Countess would be prepared to pay for them because they were expensive and she had very little money left.

  She had taken with her only the minimum amount that she required for the journey and enough to tip the maids who would look after her.

  She was sure that they would only be under-housemaids who would not expect much.

  At the same time it meant that she could not leave much for her mother and she had already arranged with Nanny that the moment she received any remuneration for her embroidery she would despatch it home immediately.

  ‘It’s an adventure!’ Olinda told herself as the train gathered speed and she looked out onto the countryside bathed in sun. ‘I am glad I am visiting Kelvedon in the summer. The gardens will be beautiful and there will be so much to tell Mama about them and, of course, about the house also.’

  Her father had taught her a great deal about pictures and furniture.

  He had never had enough money to be a collector of beautiful things, but that did not prevent him from having an appreciative knowledge of them.

  He had travelled to Italy and he had described to Olinda in detail the masterpieces he had seen in the Vatican and in the great Palaces and museums of Rome.

  Because his daughter had listened to him attentively, he had bought her books in which she could read of such national treasures and even when she had been small he had taken her round some of the museums in London.

  ‘I wish Papa could be with me now,’ Olinda thought.

  Although he had been dead since she was fifteen, she still missed him because he had brought so much interest into her life besides imparting to her a desire for knowledge, which in the last years when her mother was so ill, she had had little chance to develop.

  Occasionally she would go into Huntingdon on the carrier and come back with a book she longed to read and on which she had expended her money rather than buy material for a gown or a new hat.

  Fortunately the Vicar had quite a considerable library.

  Although the books were mostly old-fashioned and out of date, Olinda could borrow them as she wished and found quite a lot to interest her.

  ‘But I am ignorant, very ignorant,’ she told herself. ‘What would Papa say if he knew what little chance I have of becoming better informed?’

  There was no answer to this, except that now for the first time she would have a chance of seeing a house that was part of history and could learn about its contents.

  ‘It’s exciting,’ Olinda told herself again and again during the long journey and, when finally she stepped out at Derby Station, it was like walking into a new world.

  There was a smart liveried footman wearing white breeches and highly polished boots raising a top hat from his head as he came to meet her.

  “Miss Selwyn?” he enquired.

  “Yes, I am Miss Selwyn,” Olinda replied.

  “There’s a carriage waiting for you outside, miss,” the footman said. “I’ll see to your luggage.”

  He took her bag from her and ordered the porters about in such a lofty manner that her trunk was quickly brought from the guard’s van and trundled outside the station.

  The carriage was very impressive. Olinda knew it was the very latest design for a closed brougham and it was drawn by two horses.

  She was handed respectfully inside and a light rug was placed over her knees.

  Her trunk was strapped on behind and, in half the time it would have taken had she been looking after herself, the porter was touching his forehead deferentially as they drove away.

  Olinda bent forward to look out of the window at the town of Derby, but shortly they had left the houses behind and were out in the open country.

  It was late in the afternoon and the shadows thrown by the sun were growing longer, but she could see fertile fields, thick woods and every now and then she thought she had glimpses of impressive mansions behind long avenues of lime or elm trees.

  She had an idea, although she was not certain, that Derbyshire was a smart County and that the gentlefolk who lived there were rich and influential.

  ‘Perhaps they will have balls and dinner parties almost every night,’ she thought and wondered what it would be like if she was travelling to Kelvedon House as a guest rather than an employee.

  “You will not use your title,” her mother had said to her when she had first answered the advertisement that had appeared in The Times.

  “Do you think it would be more embarrassing for me or for those who are to engage me that I should be an Honourable?” Olinda enquired.

  “I would not wish anyone who might have known your father to learn what you are doing,” Lady Selwyn had replied. “But Selwyn is n
ot an uncommon name and unless you tell them, there is no reason for anyone to guess who you are.”

  “No, of course not, Mama,” Olinda agreed, “and I assure you that Miss Selwyn, a seamstress, will arouse no curiosity!”

  The Dowager Countess had at least been gracious enough to send a very comfortable carriage for her when she might have expected the type of open brake in which servants usually travelled.

  She wondered what her employer would be like and thought that since her husband would have been seventy if he was still alive, it was not unreasonable to think that she would be over sixty and perhaps as frail as her mother.

  Illness had made Lady Selwyn look far older than her fifty-four years. The loss of her husband and her son had taken from her the youthful joy of living that Olinda remembered so well.

  Her thoughts of her mother were, however, swept away as the horses passed through huge ornamental wrought-iron gates and proceeded down a long avenue of ancient oaks that must from their girth have stood sentinel over the gravelled roadway for centuries.

  Then just below them at the other side of the small valley there was a lake and across it Olinda had her first sight of Kelvedon House.

  It was even more magnificent and beautiful than it had appeared in the pictures she had seen of it.

  Its copulas, central spire and high Tudor chimneys were silhouetted against the deep blue of the evening sky and its long windows seemed to glitter iridescently as if they gave her a special welcome.

  It was very large and very impressive, yet at the same time there was nothing frightening about it except its size.

  Olinda had always thought whimsically to herself that houses had faces and the face of Kelvedon House seemed to her somewhat aloof, proud and dignified and yet it had a warmth and a kindness about it.

  She could see the great doorway in the centre of the building and the flight of stone steps leading up to it, but she was not surprised when the carriage turned to the left to stop outside a smaller less impressive doorway.

  Yet because she could not be received as an honoured guest in the magnificent house, Olinda, for a moment felt ridiculously disappointed.

  ‘I shall be able to see the entrance hall later whilst I am here,’ she told herself consolingly.

  The footman jumped down from the box to open the door for her and she was received by another footman who led her up a staircase to where a middle-aged woman, obviously the housekeeper, in rustling black, received her.

  “I am Mrs. Kingston, Miss Selwyn,” she said. “Her Ladyship asked me to welcome you and show you to your room.”

  They shook hands and Olinda had the impression that the housekeeper looked at her in surprise as if she had expected someone much older.

  “You had a comfortable journey, Miss Selwyn?”

  “Very comfortable, thank you,” Olinda replied, “but I have been travelling since six o’clock this morning and would be very grateful if I could wash and change my gown.”

  “A housemaid will unpack for you,” Mrs. Kingston said, “and I’m sure while you’re changin’ you’d like a cup of tea.”

  “I would indeed,” Olinda replied thankfully.

  “When you are ready,” Mrs. Kingston went on, “I’ll inform her Ladyship that you are here. I expect she will wish to meet you, even though there will be no time for you to see your work until tomorrow.”

  “I am so anxious to know,” Olinda said, “whether I am to repair the curtains in either Queen Elizabeth’s room or the Duchesse de Mazarin’s?”

  The housekeeper looked surprised.

  “You have heard then of our famous beds?” she asked.

  “I have read about them in a copy of The Illustrated London News,” Olinda answered.

  “I expect her Ladyship will want to tell you what is required herself,” Mrs. Kingston said, “but I will be givin’ away no secrets, Miss Selwyn, when I tell you that the hangin’s on the Duchesse’s bed are in urgent need of restoration.”

  “Oh, that is exciting!” Olinda exclaimed and thought that there was a gleam of satisfaction in the housekeeper’s eyes as if she welcomed her enthusiasm.

  The room that had been allotted her on the second floor was small but well-furnished and her trunks were brought up by two footmen, almost as soon as she and Mrs. Kingston reached it.

  They were set down against the walls, the heavy straps were undone and the leather tops opened.

  Then the men withdrew and two housemaids, who were both very young in black dresses and white starched aprons with white caps covering their hair, knelt down to unpack.

  “The sittin’ room that you will use is on the first floor,” Mrs. Kingston said. “It’s a small room that I have previously used for storin’ certain articles or furnishings that have not been required. But it has been arranged for you with a work table.”

  She paused to add,

  “It is near enough to the State rooms for you not to have to take half the day in fetchin’ anything you might require for your embroiderin’.”

  She gave a little laugh.

  “The house is so large I often think myself that it would be more convenient if we could have carriages to convey us from one part to the other!”

  She paused to add,

  “Or perhaps one of those new-fangled motor cars, which I am convinced will only be a passin’ phase. Gentlemen will never give up their horses!”

  “You have a motor car?” Olinda enquired.

  “Her Ladyship has bought one for Mr. Hanson,” Mrs. Kingston said. “A nasty smelly object I call it and, as it breaks down every half mile, it’s not likely he will get far in it!”

  She spoke almost with a vindictive note in her voice as if she was glad of the inconvenience.

  Because she was curious, Olinda could not help asking,

  “Is the Earl more interested in horses?”

  “His Lordship is not here,” Mrs. Kingston said sharply. “He is abroad and we seldom see him.”

  She turned to leave the room as she spoke and Olinda felt that she had been indiscreet and perhaps presumptuous in asking the question.

  At the same time it seemed strange that the owner of such a magnificent and historic house should not live in it. And who, she wondered, was Mr. Hanson?

  By the time she had washed and changed her travelling gown for a plain dress of grey muslin which she hoped made her look a little older and more responsible, she learnt that tea was waiting for her in the sitting room downstairs.

  The housemaid showed her where it was and she found that Mrs. Kingston was waiting there.

  Olinda saw it was quite a pleasant room with a window looking over the garden and, while there was a strong deal sewing table occupying the centre of the room, there was also a sofa and an armchair beside the fireplace. The curtains were of a pretty chintz, which reminded her of those that her mother had in the drawing room at home and there was a thick carpet on the floor.

  “I hope this is to your likin’, Miss Selwyn,” Mrs. Kingston said in a tone of voice that made it clear that she would be surprised to hear any complaint.

  “It’s very nice! Thank you so much. I am sorry to have put you to so much trouble in having to clear out the room.”

  Mrs. Kingston was obviously pleased with Olinda’s politeness.

  “It was no trouble, Miss Selwyn,” she replied. “It’s a good thing to have a clear out now and again. I often think to myself that half the rooms in this place are the accumulated junk of ages!”

  Olinda laughed as she was meant to do and Mrs. Kingston said,

  “I will leave you to have your tea, Miss Selwyn. A footman will fetch you when her Ladyship is ready to see you.

  “Thank you,” Olinda smiled. “Thank you very much for being so kind to me.”

  She was hungry after the journey. The cucumber sandwiches she had been provided with were delicious and so was the madeira cake and the small rock buns made with sultanas that she had not tasted since she was a child.

  Nanny
was not an adventurous cook, although she could roast a chicken to perfection and ‘had a way’, as Lady Selwyn put it, with an apple tart.

  But cakes were not in her repertoire and, because her mother was not fond of sweet things, Olinda seldom troubled to make them.

  As she drank the scented China tea, she found her tiredness slipping away from her and now the excitement was back and the thrill of knowing that tomorrow she would see over this great house.

  She thought that the picture of its beauty as they had driven down the drive would be etched in her mind forever.

  There was a knock on the door and when it opened the footman said,

  “Her Ladyship will see you now, miss.”

  Olinda rose to her feet, smoothed down her gown and followed the man down a broad corridor.

  There was a green baize door at the end of it and, when she had passed through it, she found herself in what she knew was the main part of the house.

  It was only a short distance before they came to the Grand Staircase, elaborately carved with each pillar surmounted by a heraldic figure. The walls were covered with pictures that took Olinda’s breath away.

  ‘If only Papa could see these!’ she thought.

  She hoped that there was a curator or guide who would explain them all to her and tell her who the artists were.

  The hall was as magnificent as she had expected. There were a great many marble statues, several fine carved gilt tables with green marble tops and the ceiling was painted with a riot of Gods and Goddesses.

  Olinda longed to stay and look at everything, but the footman was hurrying ahead of her and moving a little quicker than if she had been anyone of importance.

  They reached two high mahogany doors and the footman opened one.

  “Miss Selwyn, your Ladyship,” he announced and Olinda stepped into a salon.

  It was so large that for a moment she was bewildered. Then at the far end she saw sitting on a sofa beside a carved marble mantelpiece, a lady who she knew must be the Dowager.

  The long French windows all along one wall of the salon looked onto a terrace beyond which Olinda could see the garden and a fountain with its water sparkling in the evening sun.