Free Sons of the Wolf by Barbara Michaels

that I ordered it." He gave me another wide white grin. "Cultivate eccentricity, Harriet, and tell society to go to-blazes. It's much more fun than being conventional."
    "It's not very amusing," I said crossly, rising to go, "when there is no one to tell to go to blazes."
    He was laughing as I swept out of the room.
    Julian is back from one of his visits-this time to stay for a bit, he informed me. He seems sullen and out of sorts; my vanity would be hurt if I were that sort of young lady, for he does not seem to be at all fascinated by our society.
    May 29
    Wrong again! It is a good thing I am not setting myself up as a student of human nature, for I seem to be constantly mistaken about people. Julian is fascinated by our society; he has been cultivating us assiduously of late. It has made all the difference in our rather dull lives, for he can be absolutely charming. Even his pretended timidity on horseback is amusing, because he obviously is not so inept as everyone seems to think.
    It was a beautiful warm morning Tuesday, so we all went riding together. By "all" I mean Julian and Ada and myself. David had four horses saddled, but Julian told him carelessly that he need not accompany us. I was glad to see that Ada seemed not to notice nor care.
    We rode to the old abbey ruins and for the first time I had my fill of exploring them. The other two soon tired of this amusement and I left them sitting on a fallen stone, talking. After all, I did keep them in sight for almost the entire time.
    The ruined cloisters are quite lovely. Most of the ceiling has fallen in, but there are bits of the most beautiful vaulting still in place. The low building which still seems intact was, as I suspected, the dormitory of the monks. It was at this stage in my explorations that Ada deserted me. She took one look at the gaping black rectangle of the doorway, draped with cobwebs and framed by lichen-smeared stones, and shook her head decisively.
    "There will be spiders!" she warned me, as Julian led her off.
    There were spiders, and I own I am not very fond of them. But that was not what cut my inquiries short; it was the difficulty of exploring in near-absolute darkness. Only one wing of the monastery still survives; it consists of a long corridor, without windows, upon which the small cells open. The cells themselves have each one window, but these are small and barred and the openings are now almost covered by the rank weeds of what was once an inner courtyard. Since most of the cell doors remain in place-though sadly rotted-the light which struggles out into the corridor is dim indeed.
    I ventured into one cell, the one opposite the entrance to the corridor. The fragile-looking but invincible weeds had forced their way up between the stone blocks of the floor, almost obliterating that surface. On one wall I found a patch of plaster, with traces of faded color, but could make out nothing of the design. Popish and un-English as these establishments were, it makes one gnash one's teeth to think of the beauty so wantonly destroyed.
    Although I would never have owned it to Ada, I had no intention of exploring that corridor; it was festooned with cobwebs thick as curtains, and the darkness at either end seemed palpable enough to touch. I promised myself that I would come back one day with a lantern-and David. Julian is not the man to ruin his fine shirts and broadcloth with cobwebs, even to oblige a lady.
    The tower, which I had planned to investigate, proved also a disappointment. I simply could not gain entry to it at all. The door is a huge structure built of thick planks, which look fairly new. Though there was no visible bolt or lock, I pushed against it in vain. The tower is built right up against the dormitory and may connect with it; perhaps I may be able to enter from the corridor once the cobwebs are disposed of.
    When I turned back to Ada, I couldn't help stopping for a moment to admire the picture my two cousins made as they sat