Free Set in Stone by Linda Newbery

talk in a moment. Mr Godwin, you had better leave us now. Thank you for your assistance.’
    Self-conscious in the flare of lamplight, barelegged and in my nightshirt in front of the two young women, I did as Charlotte asked; but waited outside the room for her to reappear. After their voices had murmured for some minutes, she did so, and prepared to climb the stairs to fetch her blankets; but I intercepted her.
    ‘Charlotte! What did she mean by—?’
    Raising a hand, she silenced me. ‘We cannot talk now. Come down early to breakfast. I shall tell you then.’
    The night was long in passing, for sleep eluded me completely.

Chapter Ten
Of Unsound Mind
    After her escapade, Marianne slept soundly for the remainder of the night. It is needless to relate that I did not, though I made myself as comfortable as possible on the couch at the foot of her bed, and must have dozed intermittently. From now on, I decided, this must be my regular sleeping place. The risk of Marianne wandering around the house, or even outside it, as I suspected she had done on at least one occasion, was too alarming to contemplate. A bed must be made up for me here; I should tell Mrs Reynolds at the first opportunity.
    At my usual hour of rising, I returned to my own room to wash and dress, leaving Marianne to sleep on. I had not forgotten my obligation to Samuel; on the contrary, I had lain awake through the dawn hours preparing exactly what I should say to him. We met in the dining room, as arranged, before the rest of the house was astir. The table was set in readiness, but Alice had not yet brought in the hot dishes.
    ‘Mr Godwin,’ I began, as soon as we hadexchanged Good Mornings. ‘There are several things I need to explain to you.’
    ‘I should be grateful,’ said he. ‘I have a good many questions to ask.’
    ‘I am quite sure you have,’ I returned. ‘Let me begin by telling you that, as you must have guessed, Marianne has wandered in her sleep before. Most often, it is of short duration: she comes to her senses before leaving her own room, and I know of it only because she has confided in me. On occasion, though, she has left her room; even, I am afraid, ventured outside the house.’
    ‘She could easily come to harm!’ Samuel said, in great concern. ‘Last night – she could have fallen from the upper gallery. If she should wander outside, the risk is even greater – there is the lake, or she might stray so far as to lose herself in the darkness—’
    ‘Yes, yes,’ I replied, a little piqued by his assumption that I had not thought of these hazards for myself. ‘The disturbance has become more frequent of late, and that is why I have decided to supervise her more closely. From now on I shall sleep in her room, keeping the door locked from inside. I am a light enough sleeper to depend on waking if she rises from her bed.’
    He nodded approval. ‘And the cause? Do you attribute it to the poor girl’s distress at the loss of her mother – is that when it began?’
    ‘I believe so. As you know, I was not here at the time, but from what I know of the circumstances, it must have been a terrible ordeal for such an impressionable girl.Besides her mother’s death, there was her sister’s ill-health and lengthy convalescence.’
    ‘Are the two events related?’ Mr Godwin asked. ‘The mother’s death and the daughter’s illness? Is there, I mean, some hereditary disease in the family?’
    ‘Possibly,’ I replied, after a momentary hesitation. ‘Mr Farrow has hinted at it, though naturally the subject is a painful one. Shall we sit?’ – for we had stood till now at the window, looking out at the smoothness of lawn, the trees beyond, and the horses grazing in the paddock.
    Although I had planned my subsequent speeches, I did not find it easy to continue.
    ‘The nature of the illness . . . ?’ Samuel prompted.
    It was with reluctance that I went on. ‘Mrs Farrow, the girls’ mother, died in a tragic accident. It is