ace。
hester did not resist。
listening at doors is not bad manners when it is done in the name of science； and the doctor’s wife was a keen scientist when it came to studying her own husband。 the kiss that so startled the doctor and hester came as no surprise at all to mrs。 maudsley； who had been expecting something rather like it for some time。
she flung the door open and in a rush of outraged righteousness burst into the surgery。
‘i will thank you to leave this house instantly；“ she said to hester。 ”you can send john in the brougham for the child。“
then； to her husband； “i will speak to you later。”
the experiment was over。 so were many other things。
john fetched adeline。 he saw neither the doctor nor his wife at the house but learned from the maid about the events of the morning。
at home he put adeline in her old bed； in the old room； and left the door ajar。
emmeline； wandering in the woods； raised her head； sniffed the air and turned directly toward home。 she came in the kitchen door； made straight for the stairs； went up two steps at a time and strode unhesitatingly to the old room。 she closed the door behind her。
and hester？ no one saw her return to the house； and no one heard her leave。 but when the missus knocked on her door the next morning； she found the neat little room empty and hester gone。
i emerged from the spell of the story and into miss winter’s glazed and mirrored library。
‘where did she go？“ i wondered。
miss winter eyed me with a slight frown。 “i’ve no idea。 what does it matter？”
‘she must have gone somewhere。“
the storyteller gave me a sideways look。 “miss lea； it doesn’t do to get attached to these secondary characters。 it’s not their story。 they e； they go； and when they go they’re gone for good。 that’s all there is to it。”
i slid my pencil into the spiral binding of my notebook and walked to the door； but when i got there； i turned back。
‘where did she e from； then？“
‘for goodness’ sake！ she was only a governess！ she is irrelevant； i tell you。“
‘she must have had references。 a previous job。 or else a letter of application with a home address。 perhaps she came from an agency？“
miss winter closed her eyes and a long…suffering expression appeared on her face。 “mr。 lomax； the angelfield family solicitor； will have all the details i’m sure。 not that they’ll do you any good。 it’s my story。 i should know。 his office is in market street； banbury。 i will instruct him to answer any inquiries you choose to make。”
i wrote to mr。 lomax that night。
。d 。
AFTER HESTER
the next morning； when judith came with my breakfast tray； i gave her the letter for mr。 lomax； and she took a letter for me from her apron pocket。 i recognized my father’s handwriting。
my father’s letters were always a fort； and this one was no exception。 he hoped i was well。 was my work progressing？ he had read a very strange and delightful nineteenth…century danish novel that he would tell me about when i returned。 at auction he had e across a bundle of eighteenth…century letters no one seemed to want。 might i be interested？ he had bought them in case。 private detectives？ well； perhaps； but would a genealogical researcher not do the job just as well or perhaps better？ there was a fellow he knew who had all the right skills； and e to think of it； he owed father a favor—he sometimes came into the shop to use the almanacs。 in case i intended to pursue the matter； here was his address。 finally； as always； those well meant but desiccated four words： mother sends her love。
did she really say it？ i wondered。 father mentioning； i’ll write to margaret this afternoon； and she—casually？ warmly？—send her my love。
no。 i couldn’t imagine it。 it would be my father’s addition。 written without her knowledge。 why did he bother？ to please me？ to make it true？ was it for me or for her that he made these thankless efforts to connect us？ it was an impossible task。 my mother and i were like two continents moving slowly but inexorably apart； my father； the bridge builder； constantly extending the fragile edifice he had constructed to connect us。
a letter had e for me at the shop； my father enclosed it with his own。 it was from the law professor father had remended to me。
dear miss lea；i was not aware ivan lea even had a daughter； but now i know he has one； i am pleased to make your acquaintance—and even more pleased to be of assistance。 the legal decree of decease is just what you imagine it to be： a presumption in law of the death of a person whose whereabouts have been unknown for such a length of time and in such circumstances that death is the only reasonable assumption。 its main function is to enable the estate of a missing person to be passed into the hands of his inheritors。
i have undertaken the necessary researches and traced the documents relating to the case you are particularly interested in。 your mr。 angelfield was apparently a man of reclusive habits； and the date and circumstances of his disappearance appear not to be known。 however； the painstaking and sympathetic work carried out by one mr。 lomax on behalf of the inheritors （two nieces） enabled the relevant formalities to be duly carried out。 the estate was of some significant value； though diminished somewhat by a fire that left the house itself uninhabitable。 but you will see all this for yourself in the copy i have made you of the relevant documents。
you will see that the solicitor himself has signed on behalf of one of the beneficiaries。 this is mon in situations where the beneficiary is unable for some reason （illness or other incapacity； for instance） to take care of his own affairs。
it was with a most particular attention that i noted the signature of the other beneficiary。 it was almost illegible； but i managed to work it out in the end。 have i stumbled across one of the best…kept secrets of the day？ but perhaps you knew it already？ is this what inspired your interest in the case？
fear not！ i am a man of the greatest discretion！ tell your father to give me a good discount on the justitiae naturalis principia； and i will say not a word to anyone！
your servant；william henry cadwalladri turned straight to the end of the neat copy professor cadwalladr had made。 here was space for the signatures of charlie’s nieces。 as he said； mr。 lomax had signed for emmeline。 that told me that she had survived the fire； at least。 and on the second line； the name i had been hoping for。 vida winter。 and after it； in brackets； the words； formerly known as adeline march。
proof。
vida winter was adeline march。
she was telling the truth。
with this in mind； i went to my appointment in the library； and listened and scribbled in my little book as miss winter recounted the aftermath of hester’s departure。
adeline and emmeline spent the first night and the first day in their room； in bed； arms wrapped around each other and gazing into each other’s eyes。 there was a tacit agreement between the missus and john…the…dig to treat them as though they were convalescent； and； in a way； they were。 an injury had been done to them。 so they lay in bed； nose to nose； gazing cross…eyed at each other。 without a word。 without a smile。 blinking in unison。 and with the transfusion that took place via that twenty…four…hour…long gaze； the connection that had been broken； healed。 and like any wound that heals； it left its scar。
meanwhile the missus was in a state of confusion over what had happened to hester。 john； reluctant to disillusion her about the governess； said nothing； but his silence only encouraged her to wonder aloud。 “i suppose she’ll have told the doctor where she’s gone；” she concluded miserably。 “i’ll have to find out from him when she’s ing back。”
then john had to speak； and he spoke roughly。 “don’t you go asking him where she’s gone！ don’t ask him anything at all。 besides； we won’t be seeing him around the place no more。”
the missus turned away from him； frowning。 what was the matter with everyone？ why was hester not there？ why was john all upset？ and the doctor—he who had been the household’s constant visitor— why should he not be ing anymore？ things were happening that were beyond her prehension。 more and more often these days； and for longer and longer periods； she had the sense that something had gone wrong with the world。 more than once she seemed to wake up in her head to find that whole hours had passed by without leaving a trace in her memory。 things that clearly made sense to other people didn’t always make sense to her。 and when she asked questions to try and understand it； a queer look came into people’s eyes； which they quickly covered up。 yes。 something odd was happening； and hester’s unexplained absence was only part of it。
john； though he regretted the unhappiness of the missus； was relieved that hester had gone。 the departure of the governess seemed to take a great burden from him。 he came more freely into the house； and in the evenings spent longer hours with the missus in the kitchen。 to his way of thinking； losing hester was no loss at all。 she had really made only one improvement to his life—by encouraging him to take up work agai