PEGGYS LONDON DEBUT

When actress Peggy Lane sails for England, she seeks

fresh theatrical adventuresand leaves behind a tangled
romance with a young playwright. Aboard ship, she is
recognizedfirst by attractive Kurt Werner, then by
mystery man Tony Barstowe, both of whom are at
Southampton when Peggy meets lovely Celia Wycliffe, who
unwittingly enmeshes Peggy in a centuries-old theatrical
curse.
Surprising Peggy at Southampton is lean, redheaded
Randy Brewster, Peggys playwright boyfriend, who should
be in New York instead of here in England looking over
Peggys shoulder as she arranges dates with Kurt and Tony.
But sightseeing is forgotten when Peggy spots the weird
light in Primrose Abbey and later realizes that the Primrose
ghost has followed Celia and herself to London.
Between rehearsals for her London debut, Peggy tries to
protect Celia from her familys dreaded ancestral taboo, and
the young actress is almost as happy when she solves the
secret of the Primrose curse as she is about the most exciting
adventure of allopening night in London!

Peggy Lane Theater Stories

PEGGY FINDS THE THEATER
PEGGY PLAYS OFF-BROADWAY
PEGGY GOES STRAW HAT
PEGGY ON THE ROAD
PEGGY GOES HOLLYWOOD
PEGGYS LONDON DEBUT
PEGGY PLAYS PARIS
PEGGYS ROMAN HOLIDAY

PEGGY LANE THEATER STORIES

Peggys
London Debut
By VIRGINIA HUGHES

GROSSET & DUNLAP Publishers

New York

 COPYRIGHT BY GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC. 1964

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20

SHIPBOARD MEETING
THREEANY THREEIS A CROWD!
ONE OR TWO PERSONAL QUESTIONS
BUT THERE ARE NO GHOSTS!
A THREE-HUNDRED-YEAR-OLD ROMANCE
A TWENTIETH-CENTURY SUITOR
BACHELOR GALS APARTMENT
MOONLIGHT ON THE THAMES
DYNAMIC PROJECTION
THE PRIMROSE CURSE
NO EXPLANATION GIVEN
A SPECIAL AUDITION
RECONCILIATIONALMOST
ONE SECRET UNFOLDED
MYSTERY TRESPASSER
UNWANTED ESCORT SERVICE
THE CLERKS CLUE
THE PRIMROSE CORONET
MISS AGATHA ACCEPTS
CURTAIN CALLS

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13
25
37
49
64
75
84
93
102
114
125
134
145
160
172
179
186
196
204

I
Shipboard Meeting

Peggy put down her book, stretched her legs under

the rug, settled more comfortably into her deck
chair, and gazed lazily out over the green Atlantic.
Late afternoon sunlight reflected on the whitecaps,
and Peggy was conscious once more of the
immensity of the ocean. Even the huge Queen
Victoria, gliding sleeking and silently through the
dark waves, was dwarfed by the surrounding water.
If only for the experience of the majesty of ocean,
Peggy was glad she had chosen to sail for her first
crossing of the Atlantic.
There were other reasons too, of course. One of
them, a tall, blond German, Kurt Werner, waved as
he crossed the bow of the promenade deck below.
Trailing Kurt were his three compatriots, who, like
Kurt, were returning home from on-the-job training
in the United States. It was their third circle of the
ship. Two more were programmed before they
would join Peggy.
1

Peggy yawned, sinking deeper into her chair,

content to let her thoughts drift. It was strange: If
some had told her, Peggy Lane, actressaspiring
actressthree months ago that she would be
crossing the Atlantic on her way to England now,
she would have told him that he was daydreaming
for her. But here she was. So much had happened,
and all of it so Fait Just six weeks ago, she had been
in Hollywood, filming the last scenes of Homestead
with Doug Taylor, the idol of millions of
moviegoers around the World. Peggys hazel eyes
danced, and her full lips Curved into a smile as she
remembered the rocky road that had led to
friendship with Doug Taylor. But it had been Doug,
who, believing at last that she aspired to be a serious
actress rather than a Hollywood starlet, had advised
her to broaden her horizons by travel and by acting
in a variety of media, including the theaters of
Europe if possible.
Peggy smiled again, remembering Dougs words:
Youre a kid, a beautiful, talented kid, but a kid.
Take some time to grow up. She treasured those
words becauseas she now admitted to herself
she had had a crush on Doug, perhaps her last
little-girl crush. Doug had known it too, and he had
understood. Hes really wonderful, thought Peggy,
still smiling, and remembering their joint plot to
make Randy Brewster, Peggys favorite boyfriend, a
2

little more aware that Peggy was a living, breathing

girl, rather than merely a good actress for his plays.
Shaking her chestnut curls in the fresh breeze,
Peggy decided not to think about Randy just now.
The plot had worked all too well, she thought
gloomily, in spite of her resolution not to think
about it. Randolph Clark Brewster, author of three
successful off-Broadway plays, had been Peggys
favorite escort for more than a year, almost since the
day she had left her home in Rockport, Wisconsin,
to study at the New York Dramatic Academy in
New York.
But no more, Peggy thought sadly. She and Doug
had planned to fire Randys interest by appearing
together at the New York opening of Homestead, in
which Peggy had a small but choice part. The
opening was months away, but it hadnt taken
Randy long to be aware of the friendship between
Peggy and Doug. Innocently, Peggy had believed
that all the publicity dates with Doug, arranged by
Peggys Hollywood agent before Peggy and Doug
really became friends, had been reported only in the
Los Angeles newspapers. She should have known
that those pictures and gossip about the two of them
would be in half the papers in the country, not
because of her fansshe didnt have any yetbut
because everything Doug did seemed to fascinate
half the women in the world. Of course, every
3

busybody in New York had made certain that Randy

knew all about it. Peggy didnt know whether her
dating Doug for publicity purposes or her seeing
Doug because she liked him had been the more
repugnant to Randy.
Peggys roommate, Amy Preston, who was
appearing in Randys new play, had told Peggy all
about it the minute Peggy got back to New York
from California. In their big double room at the
Gramercy Arms, the theatrical rooming house just
off Gramercy Park which Peggy called home, Amy
had stormed: Every day, someone would leave one
of thosethosethose blasted newspapers lying
around where Randy would be sure to see it. I
declare, I got so m-a-a-d. Amy, a native of Pine
Hollow, North Carolina, customarily spoke with a
drawl, but when she was angry, the drawl got so
thick it took someone who was familiar with her
speech even to understand her. Honestly, Peggy,
Amy had said accusingly, youve hurt Randys
feelings. You maybe h-a-a-d to go out with Doug
Taylor, and Randy maybe could understand that, but
you didnt have to actually fall for him.
Were just friends, Peggy had protested
truthfully.
Amy, who liked Randy almost as much as she did
Peggy, merely had given Peggy a black look.
Back in New York, Peggy had telephoned Randy
4

onceAmy had reported he was staying at his

parent's place on Long Islandand he had been
friendly, but that was all. Hed congratulated her on
her Hollywood success, hadnt mentioned Doug
Taylor, had inquired about her future plans, which
then were indefinite. The conversation had ended
when hed said hed call her when he came back
into the city. But he hadnt. A girl can telephone her
best boyfriend once if shes been out of town, but no
more than once. And Peggy just wouldnt start
hanging around the Penthouse Theater, hoping to
catch a glimpse of him. So she didnt go to the
Penthouse, even though it was almost hers
because she and Amy had found it, neglected and
long abandoned, when Randy and his friend,
Mallory Seton, were searching for a theater in which
to stage Randys first play.
And, to be honest, Randys coldness hadnt been
the reason shed decided to go to England. After
Christmas was no time to get an acting job in New
York. Most of the seasons plays already had
opened, and all of them were cast. Besides, shed
been eager to try Doug Taylors advice. Already,
she had learned that Doug was right. Travel did
expand ones horizons, show one different points of
view. In only four days on an English ship, shed
learned that. She had learned a lotmostly about
how much she didnt know. It was embarrassing.
5

Kurt, all the German boys, almost every European

on the ship, seemed to be able to speak at least three
or four languages, while she limped along in
English. Two hundred times shed regretted that she
hadnt applied herself to learning more French in her
year at college and that she hadnt taken advantage
of the opportunity for practicing French
conversation with her French housemate, Gaby
Odette.
But in England, her English would do very well.
Idly, she wondered how many languages Celia
Wycliffe spoke. Not that it mattered. Shed at least
speak English. Celia, whom Peggy would meet
when the ship arrived at Southampton, was a friend
of Mallory Seton. At the last minute, Mal had
pushed a London address into Peggys hand, telling
her that an old friend was taking a flat in London
which was large enough for Peggy too. The bon
voyage party had been noisy, and Peggy had been
excited, so shed gotten no details about Celia from
Mal. Then, the second day out, a cable had arrived
advising Peggy that Celia would meet her at
Southampton and take her to London.
Miss Lane? said a very English voice.
Peggy, deep in thought, looked up, surprised.
Standing by her deck chair was the tall, slender, dark
boy who wore such interesting clothes. Peggy had
judged by his black curly hair and his Continental
6

features that he must be French or Italian, so his

cultured English accent surprised her. Yes, Im
Peggy Lane, she answered his question.
I know very well youre Peggy Lane, he said
rather crossly. I saw you in the Montana Hempler
play, he added, equally crossly.
Peggy was thrilled, or almost thrilled. It was the
second time on the tripand the second time in her
lifethat shed been recognized. The first had
been by Kurt, who also knew her from the role in
the Montana Hempler play. She was glad it was for
that part rather than because of the publicity pictures
with Doug Taylor. But she couldnt completely
enjoy this experience because the English boy was
so matter-of-factalmost rudeabout it.
Yes, Peggy said quietly, not knowing what else
to say.
Are you going to be in London long? Are you at
liberty?
I beg your pardon, said Peggy, not
understanding.
Dont misunderstand me, he said vehemently.
Im a misogynista woman hater, he explained,
as if he thought Peggy might not know what the
word meant. My question is purely professional.
Ive been trying to speak to you since the first day
out. But you do keep yourself surrounded He
broke off, his shrug and the movement of his eyes
7

indicating the German youths now crossing the bow

on the fourth circle of the ship.
His glance gave Peggy the opportunity to
examine todays costumea well-tailored and wellworn light brown velvet jacket over a pastel pink
shirt which had a row of ruffles down the front. An
unusually wide tiea Beau Brummel?and dark
brown corduroy trousers completed the ensemble.
Now that Peggy knew he was English, she could
identify the clothesor almost identify them. She
remembered reading about a wave of Edwardian
elegance that had spread through the English
universities a few years ago.
I must say, he said coolly, you do stare.
Why do you want to speak to me? Peggy asked,
her own voice cool now.
About a play, of course. What did you think?
he demanded. I told you Im a misogynist.
All right, said Peggy, beginning to be irritated.
Its Randolph Clark Brewsters Come Closer,
he said. I have the option to produce it in London.
Who are you? Peggy asked suspiciously.
Oh, forgive me, he said, his tone not asking
forgiveness at all. Im Tony Barstowe. Im on my
way home after completing arrangements for the
London production. Were planning a limited
engagementour leading lady has another
commitmentbut I thought if you were going to be
8

in London, you might enjoy a crack at doing your

part there.
Does Randy know youre doing his play?
Peggy asked suspiciously.
Randy? The Englishmans inflection of the
name sounded strange to Peggy. Brewster, you
mean! Rath-er, he said.
Are you sure? demanded Peggy, realizing she
was being equally as rude as the Englishman and not
caring especially.
Look here! he said sharply. Ive spent the last
three weeks alternately freezing and being roasted in
thatthat concrete hothouse you Americans call
New York. Outside, its so cold your blood stops
flowing. Inside, you He broke off, shuddering.
Ive been there for the sole purpose of conferring
with Brewster about the details of the production.
Oh, said Peggy. Youve talked to Randy?
Hours. Days, said the Englishman.
When are you going to do the play? Peggy
asked.
Rehearsals begin in a fortnight, he replied. Ive
already cast, but your part is open. And one or two
bit parts. Are you free to do it? Your part, I mean.
Of course, Peggy replied happily.
I say! exclaimed Tony, his voice warming for
the first time. Brewster was so eager
Randy was eager about what? Peggy asked.
9

Oh, he was rather keen that I have you, said

Tony, cool again.
Why didnt you telephone me in New York?
asked Peggy.
Well, explained Tony, shrugging a little,
Brewster suggested it, but this production cant
possibly cover the expense of importing actors. But
since youll be in London anyway . . .
Randy knew I was going to London? Peggy
asked, hurt. Randy hadnt been at the bon voyage
party.
I presume. He told me you were sailing on the
Victoria. I thought it wisest to let you board ship
before I spoke with you. That way theres no
confusion about importing actors. But youve been
waist-deep in those physical culture fanaticshe
glanced accusingly at the promenade, although the
Germans were nowhere in sightWell, you really
couldnt expect me to go charging through all those
admirers when I only wanted to speak about a
position. Bother, here comes the health brigade.
Well settle the terms later. Youll excuse me?
Well, thought Peggy, following Tonys retreating
back with her eyes, what an extraordinary young
man! She really didnt know how to evaluate him.
Rude? Brash? Interesting? He was all of those
things. And he must be a good director too, or
Randy wouldnt have trusted Come Closer to him.
10

But still, there was something else . . . A

misogynist? Hed said he was. Peggy laughed. She
didnt believe it, not for one minute.
You are happy? asked Kurt in his precise
German-accented English. You laugh? That is
good.
Peggy smiled up at the tall blue-eyed German
who now towered over her. Its a beautiful day,
she said. How was your walk?
It is good to walk, he said, smiling down at her.
But you are comfortable? You are not cold?
It had been like thisKurt waiting on her hand
and foot, Kurt managing everythingfrom the first
evening in the smoking lounge when he had
formally introduced himself, presenting his card as
an integral part of the ceremony. Almost
immediately, Peggy had learned that Kurts
formality, his courtesy, his politeness, were his
language for conveying his warm regard for his
fellow humansand especially her.
You have finished with the book? he asked, his
eyes falling on the unopened volume in Peggys lap.
No, Peggy admitted lazily. I havent finished
it.
You are not an industrious girl, he chided her,
his eyes revealing that he did not think this was at all
bad. But, he said, settling himself in the deck chair
next to her, I will explain everything. And Kurt
11

was off on a lucid, detailed, fascinating explanation

of Lessingsand Germanysclaims to having
appreciated Shakespeare long before the English
discovered him. It had been like this all through
the trip. At first, Peggy had felt a little humiliated
that she, an actress, and one whose native language
was English, knew so much less about the English
languages greatest playwright than did Kurt. But
gradually, Peggy had learned that Kurt didnt expect
her to match his knowledge. It was enough if she
listened and enjoyed what he told her.
You do not listen, Kurt reproached gently.
You have fatigue, perhaps? You wish to rest?
No, said Peggy. I mean, no, I wasnt listening.
Im sorry. Its just that something happened
You are troubled? he inquired.
Oh, no, Peggy protested. Ive been offered a
part in a London play.
But this is marvelous, said Kurt, rising in his
excitement. You should be very happy! And I too, I
am happy. Tonight we must celebrate!

12

II
ThreeAny ThreeIs a Crowd!

Peggy snapped shut the clasp of her overnight case,

absently smoothed her hair once more as she
glanced in the mirror, then gave a last look around
the little cabin. Only five days, but it seemed so
familiar. And now, at voyages end, she would step
ashore in England. England! Smiling to herself,
Peggy admitted she was suppressing excitement.
England! She could hardly believe it. Little more
than a year ago, she had been outside her native
Rockport only for rare trips to Chicago or for family
vacations on Lake Michigan. Now she was in
England! And more than that, she had a job. And
best yet, it was a job in the theater. It was almost too
much to believe.
But, Peggy reminded herself, theres no point in
announcing to the entire world that youre so
excited. A little dignity, please. After all, youre
going to be acting on the London stage. And what if
Celia Wycliffe was as nasty-nice as that Tony
13

Barstowe? Picking up her overnight case, Peggy

pulled open the door, promising herself to remember
not to be too enthusiastic. Silently, as she traversed
corridors, stairs, lounges on her way to debark, she
said farewell to the big ship. It had been a
memorable voyage, a beautiful crossing, with
everythingpeople, weather, accommodations
perfect, Good-by Victoria, hello England.
Peggy stepped off the gangway onto the quay,
feeling gloriously alive and happily aware that one
of her childhood dreamsto visit Europewas
reality. She felt the bite of the sea breeze on her
cheeks as she followed the departing passengers
across the quay into the big customs shed, becoming
tardily aware that she was among the last passengers
to leave the ship and that she possibly faced a long
wait to reclaim her luggage. Momentarily, Peggy
stood still, glancing around at the purposefully
milling throng, a little uncertain what to do.
I say, said a cool voice at her elbow, could
you be Peggy Lane?
Peggy whirled around to face a willowy blonde
who appeared as cool as her voice. You must be
Celia Wycliffe!
Right, said the girl. Welcome to England, she
added, giving Peggys hand a brisk little shake.
How was your crossing? Beastly, I imagine, at this
time of year. But youre here, and you can rest up at
14

Primrose Abbey.
Primrose Abbey? Peggy echoed. Oh, it was a
fine trip.
Youre a sport, said Celia, smiling. But come
along. Ive located your things. The trouble is there
arent any porters.
My luggage? said Peggy, realizing she was
beginning to sound the way she was beginning to
feeldazed.
Come along, said Celia, threading her way
through the crowd. I dont know if we can cope
ourselves. You seem to have quite a lot. But there
simply are no porters.
Silently, Peggy trooped at Celias heels, noticing,
amidst the general confusion, that the English girl in
every separate garment of her apparel was just plain
dowdy, but that the overall effectbeige tweed suit,
brown jersey blouse, cream jersey raincoatwas
pure elegance. Shiny blond hair bobbed at the
neckline of the raincoat, and, as Celia turned to
make certain that Peggy wasnt lagging too far
behind, Peggy caught another glimpse of Englishblue eyes, Dresden china skin, and tangerine
lipstick. Abruptly, Peggy thought of Amy,
wondering briefly and jealously if Mallory Seton
liked this English girl better than he liked Amy. The
thought tended to prejudice Peggy against Celia, and
immediately Peggy was ashamed. After all, Celia
15

didnt know Amy existed, and until a few days ago,

Celia hadnt known Peggy Lane existed. But here
she was, traveling all this distance, to make Peggy
welcome in her country. If she seemed a little
abrupt, it probably was only her manner. Mal
himself could be abrupt. It might be the English
way. Peggy couldnt expect people here to express
themselves exactly as they did in the United States.
Bother! said Celia. No porter to be had. She
had stopped in front of a mound of luggage and now
began talking with the uniformed customs inspector.
Looking about, Peggy recognized her own
luggage among the collection. She wondered briefly
how Celia, in all the crush, had made her way
unerringly to it. Then Peggy spotted the big L and
had the answer to her question.
Anything to declare, Miss Lane? asked the
inspector, busily stamping papers.
Peggy shook her head. No, she replied. Her
passport already had been checked aboard ship.
Here goes, said Celia, stooping to lift one of the
bags.
Better wait for a porter, miss, advised the
inspector.
But there are four of us. It is enough,
interrupted a new voice. And Kurt, looking more
blond, more tanned, and more handsome than ever,
was standing beside Celia, smiling at Peggy as he
16

gently took the heavy suitcase from Celias hand.

It is too heavy for a girl, said Kurt. You have a
car? We will take the cases to the car, he added,
looking around. As if conjured by his unspoken
command, his three companions, Hans, Karl, and
Eric, appeared.
Oh, Kurt, Peggy began, stopping herself to
greet the others, who immediately began
apportioning her bags among themselves.
Need some help with your luggage? inquired
the cool voice of Tony Barstowe, as he too pushed
his way toward the girls.
We will carry it for her, declared Kurt, bowing
formally to Tony, as Karl, Hans, and Eric finished
dividing the bags.
I say, Ill help, protested Tony, who, instead of
reaching for a suitcase, was staring at Celia
Wycliffe. You know these people? Celia inquired
coolly of Peggy.
Stammering, Peggy began introductions.
But Tony Barstowe, not a bit flustered, smoothly
retrieved the situation. Somehow, he seemed to
know not only Celias namealthough Peggy
couldnt remember mentioning it to himbut also
the last names of all the German youths, an
accomplishment that Peggy couldnt boast. And it
was Tony, the greetings over, who rearranged the
distribution of the luggage, himself taking one bag
17

and Peggys arm. Kurt grasped Peggys overnight

case, tried to carry her purse, picked up a second
bag, and took firm hold of Peggys other arm.
Celia led the procession; Kurt, Peggy, and Tony

18

were the second rank; Karl, Hans, and Eric formed

the rearguard. Halfway through the shed, Tony
halted. Brewster! he called. Here we are!
And, miraculously, tall, lean, redheaded Randy

19

Brewster elbowed his way through the mob to stand

in front of Peggy. Hi! he said, grinning down at
her as casually as if they were in the living room of
the Gramercy Arms.
Randy! Peggy gasped. What are you doing
here?
Celia! called Tony. Wait a minute!
Celia, turning, spotted Randy and walked back to
rejoin the cluster of young people, as Karl, Hans,
and Eric caught up to them. I got her, reported
Tony, as he and Randy clasped hands. But I must
say, I didnt expect to see you here. Celia, this is
Randolph Brewster, a friend of Mal Setons and a
friend of mine.
Ive read Mr. Brewsters plays, Celia said
stiffly.
But this is good, exclaimed Kurt, offering his
hand to Randy. I am Kurt Werner, and I have had
the pleasure to see One Last Chance. I admire it
very much, he said sincerely. Now I learn I have
the pleasure to see Come Closer in London. I am
honored to make your acquaintance.
Randy, trying to deliver a message to Celia from
Mal, smiled warmly at Kurt as he shook hands, his
eyes and his handshake expressing his appreciation
of the compliment.
Randy, Peggy demanded again, what are you
doing here?
20

Didnt Tony explain? said Randy, glancing to

Tony, who, acting the good host, immediately began
presenting Karl, Hans, and Eric.
Shes going to do the part, said Tony. Its all
set.
Randy, whats going on? demanded Peggy, but
Randy, acknowledging introductions, didnt seem to
hear her.
Perhaps, said Kurt, we should move. We are
blocking the path. Without further words, he
grasped Peggys arm, juggled the luggage he was
carrying, somehow seemed to find a free arm to
point Celia in the direction of the big doors, and, as
they moved off, the other German youths, then
Randy and Tony followed.
Whos that? Friend of yours? Peggy heard
Randys voice demanding of Tony.
Some admirer of Peggys, Tony replied
casually. She was knee-deep in men the whole
crossing. I cant keep up with them. It was all I
could manage to have one serious conversation with
her. But one was enough. Shes doing the part.
Swell,
Peggy
heard
Randy
reply
unenthusiastically. Then the press of the crowd
swept her out of earshot, and she realized Kurt was
speaking to her. Dazed, she tried to concentrate.
I thought you go directly to London, Kurt was
repeating.
21

Peggy looked to Celia, seeking an explanation of

the remark.
If you dont mind, said Celia, I thought wed
go up Sunday night.
But said Peggy.
I thought you might enjoy a weekend in the
country. You can rest. We can drive to Primrose
Abbey in about an hour. And Aunt Agatha is
expecting you.
It was the second time Celia had mentioned
Primrose Abbey, but the name still didnt register
with Peggy. However, something in Celias eyes as
well as her tone silenced the questions Peggy would
have liked to ask. Whatever you say, Peggy
replied softly, looking at Celia. Shes my hostess,
Peggy explained to Kurt.
Of course, he agreed politely. I am
disappointed. I have only the three days in London. I
have hopes to show this beautiful city to you.
You two were planning to explore? questioned
Celia, speaking hesitantly.
We had planned Kurt began.
Im frightfully sorry, apologized Celia. I had
no notion youd have other plans. If you want
She broke off.
But once again, something in her tone guided
Peggys reply. If your aunts expecting us, Peggy
said softly. Turning to Kurt, she suggested, We
22

could have Monday, and youll be coming back to

London.
Here we are, Celia announced, stopping beside
a tiny vivid red sports car. Peggy looked at it
doubtfully. Celia, seeing the glance, laughed. Oh,
well fit all right, she said reassuringly. Its bigger
than it looks. And we can squeeze most of your
things into the boot.
The boot? asked Peggy.
The boot. You knowthe whatyacallumin the
back.
The trunk! Peggy said, laughing.
Celia looked amused. So thats what you call it
in the States.
Kurt, looking puzzled at the exchange, but seeing
what was needed, yanked open the door to the trunk
compartment. Karl, Hans, and Eric appeared, giving
him a hand.
The rest will have to go at your feet, Celia
announced, remembering that Tony still had one
bag. We can cope, I think.
Peggy, thanking the German boys for their
assistance, didnt see Randy and Tony approaching.
It is settled. I see you in London on Monday,
said Kurt.
You have the address, replied Peggy, looking
up to meet Randys thoughtful eyes staring over
Kurts shoulder.
23

We will see everything, promised Kurt. Most

especially the theater. It will be the company of the
Old Vic if I can arrange the tickets. It will give me
great pleasure to introduce you to the company of
the Old Vic. But I will telephone you on Sunday
night, he promised, taking her hand to bow over it
as his farewell.
Tickets for the Old Vic? Tony asked cheerfully.
If you have any problem, tell Peggy to give me a
ring.
Quickly, but formally, the German boys shook
hands all around. Tony, meanwhile, went to the
other side of the little car and began to load Peggys
last suitcase. Mal tells me youre for a crack at
acting, Tony said softly to Celia.
So? replied Celia. I dont need your opinion.
And your aunts? asked Tony.
Are we set? demanded Celia, as the German
boys took their departure.
Randy, Peggy began, Im so surprised. I didnt
expect to see you here.
No, Randy replied dryly, glancing after the
departing Germans, I dont guess you did.
Are we off? called Celia, turning her back on
Tony.
And Peggy had no choice but to climb into the
little car.
24

III
One or Two Personal Questions

Free now of Southampton and its intricate traffic

patterns, Celia pressed the accelerator, then
volunteered cheerfully, This little monster really
belongs in an old crocks museum.
Id love to drive it sometime, said Peggy.
Not while Im in it, Celia said firmly. You
Yanks drive on the wrong side of the road.
Peggy grinned, then looked around appreciatively
at the English countryside. It was all so clipped and
neat!
Breathe deeply, instructed Celia, noticing
Peggys interest in the scenery. This is the famous
English country air. The London kind is even more
famous. Thicker, soupier, and a little nastier. You
know, I cant think why we English havent
developed gills. The air we breathe is so full of the
old H20. Actually, you know, I think my Aunt
Agatha has. She always wears high collars and
chokers. I suspect its because she wants to hide her
25

shameful secret. Celia spoke lightly. Dont mind

my going on like this, she said. Im really fond of
Auntiebut she can bewellformidable. But
youll see.
She is expecting me? asked Peggy, suddenly
apprehensive.
Of course, said Celia. Did Mal tell you
anything about her? she asked.
Peggy intuitively knew that Celia really wanted to
learn whether Mal had told Peggy anything about
Celia.
Not a word, said Peggy, answering the direct as
well as the implied question. He barely had time to
tell me your name and give me the London address.
The first word I heard about your aunt and Primrose
Abbey was from you.
Oh, said Celia. And Peggy couldnt tell from
her reply if Celia was relieved or disappointed.
Well, Celia added after a moment, youll see all
shortly.
The name Primrose Abbey sounds familiar,
Peggy ventured. I keep thinking Ive heard it. But
Im certain it wasnt from Mal. Its as if Ive read it
in history books, but cant quite remember why.
Celia turned to smile at Peggy. But she said
nothing.
Tell me about Primrose Abbey, Peggy begged.
Celia glanced at Peggy again. Well, she said
26

cheerfully, we have a ghost. But I expect you

anticipated that.
Peggy laughed. Every American knows about
English ghosts. Not one castle without its own
spook. But tell me about the Primrose ghost. Each
one is supposed to be quite an individual. No two
alike.
Its an interesting story, said Celia. But Ill let
the rector tell you. Hes coming to dinner tonight,
and he tells the history of the Abbey quite well
much better than I.
Give me a hint, suggested Peggy.
You arent afraid? demanded Celia, suddenly
serious.
Good heavens, no! Peggy protested.
Good, said Celia, cheerful again. Its bad
enough kidnaping you for a weekend at the Abbey
when you were planning to do London. I wouldnt
want our quaint local customs to frighten you.
Celia spoke lightly, but somehow Peggy heard a
note of seriousness behind her casual tone. You
really arent frightened? About the ghostI mean?
No. Of course not, Peggy reassured her. But
Peggys curiosity was aroused now. She was
thinking how to phrase a question, when Celia
changed the subject.
Tell me about Randolph Brewster, she
requested.
27

Well, Peggy said slowly, completely taken

aback, hes a playwright.
Oh, I know that, Celia said impatiently. Hes
written three plays and Ive read all of themin
those paper books. Mal sent them to me. But what I
want to know is what hes like as a person. You did
know him in New York?
Yes, Peggy said softly. I knew him.
Then whats he like? Celia demanded.
Hes considered a good playwright. Ive been in
one of his plays, Come Closer. Actually, its the
same play Tony Barstowe is doing in London. Ill
do the same part in the London production.
I say! Celia said excitedly. Youre doing a
play in London! With Tony Barstowe? Celias
voice rose as she pronounced the English boys
name.
Yes, Peggy replied, trying to puzzle out odd
nuances in Celias voice. Rehearsals beginin a
fortnight, she added, practicing the new word in her
vocabulary.
Do you know if all the roles are taken? Celia
asked eagerly.
I think its pretty well cast, said Peggy. Tony
did say a couple of bit parts are open.
Oh? said Celia.
I really dont know too much about it, Peggy
explained, definitely feeling now that there were
28

things going on that she didnt understand. Tony

only talked to me about my part yesterday.
Whos in charge of choosing the actors? Celia
asked.
You mean casting? Well, Tony hired me.
You knew him in New York? inquired Celia.
No, said Peggy. I believe RandyRandolph
Brewstersuggested me for the part. I did it in New
York, and Randy knew I was going to be in London,
so . . .
Then Tony Barstowe isnt in charge of thethe
casting? Celia demanded.
I really dont know the arrangement for this
play, said Peggy. Each one is a little different.
Why do you ask? She tried to make the question
sound innocent, but she did want to know what was
going on.
Well, said Celia, breathing deeply. I was
curious. Her answer, of course, was no explanation
at all, and in a minute she continued. Ive been
thinking of trying the London theater myself, she
said. Thats why I took a flat in town. Didnt Mal
tell you?
No. But Im sure its only because he didnt
have time. Or maybe he just assumed that Id know
youre an actress. If I should have heard of you, I
apologize. Ive only been an actress myself for a
little over a yearand Im constantly learning
29

things and hearing about people that everyone else

in the theater seems to take for granted that I already
know. Peggy was laughing as she finished,
remembering a choice boner or two that shed made.
Have you been acting in the provincial theater?
she asked eagerly. We hear so much about the
English repertory system.
Celia hesitated, seeming to be forming her reply
in her mind before she spoke. Im not an actress
yet, she said finally.
Are you enrolled in a drama school? Peggy
asked curiously.
Again Celia hesitated before she replied. I
havent done anything definite yet, she said
carefully. She was silent a moment. Actually, thats
where you come in, she said. Its shameful of me,
but Im taking advantage of you. You see
But Celia, Peggy protested gently, I cant help
you. I dont know London, and I dont know a soul
there except Tony.
No, no, you dont understandCelia obviously
was miserableyou dont understand at all. Its
its that my aunt is dreadfully against my having
anything to do with the theater and thats why Im
taking you to the Abbey. Its shocking of me to take
such advantage of you, perhaps getting you mixed
up in a family quarrel, but you do see its necessary?
You dont mind going to the Abbey? Celia asked
30

anxiously.
No, I dont mind, said Peggy, but I really
dont understand . . .
How you can help? Celia finished for her.
Peggy nodded.
Well, I have to have it out with Auntie this
weekend, the English girl confided. I havent told
her Ive taken the flat in town. But Im going to tell
her. When she sees you, it may make it a little easier
for me.
You mean because I dont wear tight dresses and
too much lipstick? asked Peggy.
Oh, no, protested Celia. Its not that. Its just
when she hears Ive actually taken a flat and have
someone to share it with whos already in the
theater, shell realize Im serious and that Ive given
the matter a good bit of thought. You truly dont
believe in ghosts? Celia asked anxiously.
Peggy shook her head. No, I dont believe in
ghosts.
Good, Celia approved. Now tell me about
Randolph BrewsterRandy, you call him.
Again, Peggy was taken aback. The English girls
transitions in thought were hard to follow. Celia
seemed to switch from one subject to another as if
they were all related. What do you want to know?
Peggy asked, still reluctant to discuss Randy.
Everything. What hes like. What his tastes are,
31

Celia said, cheerful again. He asked me to show

him about London a bit, and if I know his tastes, I
could plan so much better. Since hes a friend of
Mals, Id like to show him a good time. And hes
nice, Celia added judiciously. Id think youd have
noticed that.
All of us at the Penthouse think hes the best,
Peggy said formally, not wanting to admit that she
had special reasons for knowing that Randy was
nice. When, Peggy wondered miserably, had
Randy had the opportunity to ask Celia to show him
around London? It was a mystery. Randy obviously
had flown to London. Maybe hed already seen
Celia there.
I have the impression, said Celia, that you
admire Randy as a playwright, but that you
distinctly dislike him as a person. Pity. He seemed
quite nice. Is there any special reason? Anything a
girl should know? she inquired.
Randys a perfect gentleman, Peggy said
quietly.
Okay, said Celia, glancing knowingly at Peggy.
You dont like the gentleman, but you dont care to
blacken his character. Fair enough.
Peggy, her heart heavy at the knowledge Randy
hadnt wasted any time making a date with this
English beauty, didnt care to protest Celias
statement. Why should she wear her heart on her
32

sleeve? Randy had ignored her for weeks in New

York. Shed tried to tell herself that it was only
because he was busy working on a new play, or
because he was jealous of Doug Taylor, ora
thousand excuses, just so she wouldnt have to face
the unpleasant fact that Randy was no longer
interested in her. No, Peggy amended, hes still
interested in me as an actress, hes just not interested
in me as a girl.
It wont be long now, Celia announced, turning
the little car off the main highway. All this used to
be Abbey groundbut no more.
Its beautiful, Peggy said, once again turning
her attention to the soft English countryside.
I say, Celia murmured, do you mind if I ask a
personal question? I wont, if you say not to.
What is it? said Peggy, trying not to speak
sharply, but knowing that she wasnt going to tell
Celia one single thing about her feeling for Randy.
Are you keen on that German boy? asked Celia.
He seemed to be organizing everything.
Oh, said Peggy, having to think a minute even
to realize what Celia was talking about, you mean
Kurt? I hardly know him. Shipboard romance. You
know how it is. Peggy hated herself for sounding
so blas, but she wasnt going to allow Celia to
suspect that she waswhat was Celias word?
keen on Randolph Clark Brewster.
33

He seemed a decent chap, said Celia.

Hes really fine, replied Peggy, remembering
all Kurts good points. And hes a real theater buff.
A walking encyclopedia of theater history. Its quite
an experience to be exposed to him.
Interesting, Celia murmured.
The really interesting onepuzzling is perhaps
the wordis that Tony Barstowe. Do you know
him? Peggy asked, remembering the incident at the
customs shed.
Celia, however, seemed to have retreated
somewhere. Ive run into him a few times, she
said.
He told me hes a misogynist, Peggy said,
laughing, but I dont believe a word of it.
Is that how hes describing himself now? Celia
said bitterly.
You dont like him? Peggy asked.
Ill be more frank than you were about Randy,
said Celia. I detest him.
Do you mind if I ask a personal question? said
Peggy.
If its about Tony Barstowe, I do mind, replied
Celia.
Sorry, said Peggy. I wasnt trying to pry.
Ill be fair, Celia volunteered. Its a personal
thing between us. And fairs more than hed be, she
muttered.
34

What I was going to ask, Peggy said tactfully,

was why you didnt move in with some girl friend
in London. Not that its not convenient for me to
have an apartment and a roommate just like that
Peggy snapped her fingersbut I was thinking you
must know someone whos already working in the
theater.
All my friends, said Celia, think Ive gone off
my rocker even wanting to be in the theater.
Peggy smiled. You mean it just isnt
respectable?
No, its not that. Anyone else, they wouldnt
mind. Its just me.
Peggy looked at Celia closely. The English girl
was behaving as if she was under an enormous
strain. Why you? Peggy asked gently.
Celia shook her head. Its a long story. But
Edward Hector will tell you tonight.
Edward Hector?
The rector. Hector the Rector, we used to call
him when we were kids. Celia unexpectedly
giggled. Auntie never liked it. She was always very
cross with us when we said it. But somehow Edward
didnt mind. He was always very fond of children
and still is, even if hes a hundred and eighty-two
years old.
Hes what!
Celia tossed her head back and laughed. Oh, you
35

mustnt mind me. I exaggerate. But I do know hes

well up in his eighties, if he isnt ninety already. But
hes a dear; and he knows more about the Abbey
and our village than any man alive, and hes
perfectly willing to talk about them for hours.
What has the Abbey got to do with your being
an actress? Peggy questioned softly.
For answer, Celia shot the car forward and
brought it to a stop on the brow of a rise. Below
them, through the gathering gloom, Peggy saw a
gaunt shadowy shell of a building. Even from where
she sat, Peggy could see that the walls were massive
and dark. More than half of it had fallen into
complete decay. The remaining part was covered
with thick growths of coarse ivy. But it didnt have
that pleasant aged look of so many ancient
buildings. Instead, it sat on its hummock of land,
silently brooding over an eternity that Peggy could
only guess at. An involuntary shudder crawled over
her skin at the sight of it.
Yes, Celia said in a small voice. Thats the
way it makes me feel too. Thats where the trouble
lies. Primrose Abbey.
With an almost savage motion, Celia shifted
gears and shot the little car forward.

36

IV
But There Are No Ghosts!

The Manor House where Celia and her Aunt Agatha

lived was perched on a slight rise of land about a
hundred yards from the Abbey and separated from it
by a small copse of trees. Three stories high and
vaguely Georgian in design, the house was faced
with whitened red brick and covered with climbing
plants. A neat gravel path, bordered by flowering
bushes, swung around past the front door and
disappeared behind the house into what Peggy
assumed was a garage.
With the skilled ease of long practice, Celia
skidded around the turn and brought the tiny car to a
crunching halt directly in front of the stoop.
As she turned off the ignition, an elderly man
wearing a battered hat and a benign smile, hurried
out to meet them.
Evening, Miss Celia, he called. Teas long
since past, but maybe Mrs. Puncheon can heat
something for you.
37

Thanks, Jenkins, Celia called gaily. Well see

what we can do. This is Miss Lane, Jenkins. Shell
be staying with us for a day or two. Jenkins is our
gardener and indispensable man-of-all-work. Hes
been here ever since I was a little girl and a long
time before that.
Jenkins beamed broadly at Peggy. Welcome to
Primrose Manor, Miss Lane, he said. He reached
over and helped Peggy struggle out of the car. Ill
take care of the bags, miss, he said. Mrs.
Puncheon has the Blue Room ready.
The Blue Room! Celia cried. Oh, no, that
faces east. The sun starts streaming in there at six
oclock in the morning. Lets put her in the West
Room.
Jenkins looked uncomfortable. The West Room,
Miss Celia? he said haltingly.
Celia nodded emphatically.
Jenkins continued to look troubled. But itit
faces the Abbey, he whispered.
Primrose Abbey, Celia said severely, is almost
a national monument. Why, its in all the tourist
books as a Sight.
Aye, Miss Celia, Jenkins agreed, and a sight it
is, but not for a young girl at night.
Peggy decided to take a hand. Honestly, she
said, I dont mind. Whatevers convenient. She
smiled genially at Jenkins. Im not worried about
38

ghosts, if thats what you mean.

Jenkins stared at her curiously and shuffled off to
the rear of the car to collect the suitcases. Well, he
muttered cryptically, if it comes to that, neither am
I.
Before Peggy had a chance to puzzle out this
remark, Celia grabbed her by the hand and propelled
her up the stairs and into the house. Really, Celia
announced as they banged through the front door,
the West Room is much more comfortable. But
come into the kitchen and meet Puncheon. Or would
you rather freshen up first?
Peggy elected to go directly to her room, and
Celia led the way up the stairs and threw open the
door to a truly lovely room. The walls were
decorated with a rose-patterned paper that was
repeated in the ruffles hanging from a comfortablelooking four-poster bed. A good but rather faded
carpet covered the floor, and over near the window
stood a Queen Anne chair beside a charming
octagonal tip table. There was a Queen Anne desk
against one wall and a large, graceful bureau against
the other. Peggys bags already were stacked in a
row at the foot of the bed.
It is nice, isnt it? Celia said, as she caught
Peggys admiring glance. You undo your laces, and
Mrs. Puncheon will be up in a jiffy with tea. Celia
closed the door, and Peggy could hear her feet
39

pattering down the hallway toward the back stairs.

Peggy threw her purse and gloves down on the
bed and wandered over to the window. Below, she
could see the gravel drive, slanting up from the road.
Her eyes ran across a well-kept lawn, encountered
the copse of trees, and passed on to the Abbey. This
was the buildings good face. The ruins were out of
sight, on the other side. In the fading English
sunlight, the Abbey looked ominous and forbidding.
Peggys eyes wandered over the lawn. Behind the
Abbey, a good distance from the Manor House, she
spotted a figure making its way toward the Abbey
and the Manor House. As Peggy watched the
approaching figure, a polite knock sounded on the
door.
Come in, Peggy called, turning toward the
door.
The door opened part way as a round, friendly
face poked its way in. Following the face came the
ample form of Mrs. Puncheon, carrying a steaming
kettle and a tray.
Evening, miss, she said with a cheery smile.
Ive brought your hot water and a bite to eat. I
expect youll be hungry.
Thank you, Peggy said. Thats very kind of
you.
Mrs. Puncheon deposited her kettle on the hearth
of the fireplace and moved the table top into a
40

horizontal position. There, she said. Theres

sandwiches and a nice bit of cake. Im Mrs.
Puncheon.
Peggy acknowledged the introduction and poured
out some tea. It smells delicious, she said.
Well, teas tea, Mrs. Puncheon said in an
offhand way. It all depends on how you make it.
She looked around the room with the same uncertain
expression Peggy had noticed on Jenkins face.
Youre sure youre comfortable here, miss?
Oh, perfectly, Peggy replied, biting into a
sandwich.
Mrs. Puncheon ran her hands down the edges of
her apron and glanced uneasily at the windows. Ill
put the blinds down tonight before you go to bed,
she said. Itll save you from
From seeing the ghost? Peggy broke in,
smiling.
Mrs. Puncheon blanched. Oh, miss, whatever
gave you such an idea!
Ive been hearing nothing but broad hints about
the Abbey ghost ever since I arrived.
Mrs. Puncheon nodded. Aye, she said, I
suppose you have. She glanced quickly at the door
and took a step toward Peggy. Dont look out your
window tonight, she pleaded in an unexpectedly
urgent voice.
Peggy was so surprised that her hand froze in
41

midair. What would I see? she asked.

Mrs. Puncheon seemed reluctant to talk. She took
another step forward and spoke in a conspiratorial
whisper. Lights, she announced hoarsely.
There was a movement at the door. Peggy
glanced at it and caught a glimpse of Mrs.
Puncheons face as she quickly choked back further
words.
Mrs. Puncheon! came a commanding voice
from the doorway.
Mrs. Puncheon seemed to shrink. Yes m, she
murmured, twisting her apron nervously.
Peggy looked with interest at the figure before
her. She saw a woman of perhaps sixty, her hair
done up in a severe bun, with a look on her face that
spoke more of annoyance than anger. She was
dressed almost entirely in black and around her
shoulders was draped a rather intricate arrangement
of cashmere shawls. A high lace collar and pearl
choker caught her under the chin and caused her to
stand with an even more rigid carriage. This could
only be Celias Aunt Agatha.
As she advanced into the room, Peggy jumped to
her feet to meet her. You go ahead with your tea,
my dear, Aunt Agatha said. The invitation was
more like a command. Peggy sank back into her
chair.
Now then, Mrs. Puncheon, said the older
42

woman, directing her attention to the unfortunate

housekeeper, what have you been telling our
guest?
Oh, nothing, Mrs. Puncheon said lamely. At
least, nothing she wouldnt hear in the village on her
first trip.
Aunt Agatha pursed her lips thoughtfully. I see.
I take it that the stories you were telling were not of
a pleasant nature. Mrs. Puncheon looked blank.
That is, they might frighten a young girl, might
they not?
Mrs. Puncheon nodded miserably.
A small hiss of escaping breath came from Aunt
Agatha. It seems a pity, then, that you alarmed her,
for Miss Lane probably will not be going to the
village and would therefore have been spared
rumors that have now needlessly alarmed her.
Im sure Im very sorry, Miss Agatha, Mrs.
Puncheon said, edging toward the door.
Im sure you are. That will be all, Puncheon.
Yes, maam. Puncheon fled, relief lighting up
her face.
The forbidding figure in the middle of the room
waited for the door to close. Then she turned and
walked over to Peggy with a surprisingly warm
smile. How do you do? she said graciously. Im
Celias aunt, Agatha Primrose. I hope Mrs.
Puncheon hasnt upset you.
43

Peggy smiled. Everybody seems worried about

my being upset. I keep saying Im not, but nobody
believes me.
Miss Primrose drew up a chair beside Peggy.
Well, you see, my dear, its no fun if youre not
frightened. I really think that the people around here
have invented the story about the Primrose ghost
just for the pleasure of breaking out in goose
pimples.
Then you dont believe what they say?
The shadow of a frown darkened Miss Primroses
glance. Not a word, she said, brightening
immediately. She paused for a moment and then
went on, You probably thought I was a little short
with Mrs. Puncheon just now. But frankly, I want to
scotch these rumors.
Of course, Peggy agreed.
This seemed to please Miss Primrose. She
beamed at Peggy. Let me have a look at you. So
youre Sir Brians little American cousin.
Sir Brian? said Peggy.
Sir Brian Alwyne, said Aunt Agatha, looking
puzzled. Naturally, when Celia told me she was
meeting a relative of Sir Brians at Southampton, I
insisted she bring you right to Primrose Manor.
Peggy, who had almost overturned her teacup in
her first surprise, didnt quite know how to respond.
Sir Brian Alwyne, a special British representative at
44

the U.N., had backed Randys second play, so Peggy

did at least know him. Youre very kind, Peggy
murmured. But Im not Sir Brians cousin.
Maybe Celia didnt say cousin, Aunt Agatha
said vaguely. Some connection, she added
brightly. But any friend of Sir Brians is welcome
at Primrose Manor. Miss Primrose paused for a
moment as if she were choosing her words carefully.
Tell me something, my dear, she said at last,
leaning forward slightly, just between us, of course.
Do you happen to knowaacertain Mallory
Seton?
Peggy, too startled to answer, merely nodded.
I suspected you might, Aunt Agatha replied,
almost nodding in her satisfaction, since youre
both so close to Sir Brian. Tell mejust between
usdid Celia say anything about Mr. Seton? I
mean, on the drive up.
Peggy, if she had been surprised before, was
shocked now. Really, Primrose Abbey was full of
mysteries. Everyone talked as if they were holding
something back. Celia, Jenkins, Mrs. Puncheon, and
now Aunt Agatha, all seemed to have more on their
minds than they were willing to admit. But these
questions about Mal were unbelievable. Peggy
parried the last one as best she could.
Yes, as I recall, Celia did mention Mal, said
Peggy. Is it important?
45

Miss Primrose gave an anxious bob of her head.

Dodo you know if they correspond? She was
almost whispering.
Really! protested Peggy.
Oh, my dear, Aunt Agatha apologized, this
must sound dreadful to you. But my niece is soso
secretive. And it truly would be disastrous for her to
make a match with Mr. Seton.
Marry Mal! exclaimed Peggy.
Youyou dont think they are? Miss Primrose
was so hesitant, so obviously distressed that Peggy
pitied her.
Are what? Peggy asked, wanting to be certain
she was following the conversation.
Planning to marry.
No, Peggy said firmly. Theyre not engaged.
Im certain of that. Mals dating a good friend of
mine in New York.
A look of relief crossed Miss Primroses face.
She even patted Peggy on the knee, the way Malden
aunts do when a child has said something extremely
intelligent.
On her part, Peggy felt mounting resentment.
What was wrong with Mal anyway? And why did it
take Sir Brians name to open the doors of Primrose
Manor to Peggy? Mals too honorable, she said,
to be dating Amy if he were engaged to Celia.
Of course, my dear, Aunt Agatha said
46

contritely. And you mustnt think that I dislike Mr.

Seton. Its just that Celia is my responsibility, and,
believe me, a match with Mr. Seton wouldnt be in
her best interests. But I dont want to give you the
impression that Im spying on Celia. And I suppose
it does look like that. Its just that Celia is a difficult
girl, and I really know so little about her that I take
every opportunityhere Miss Primrose gave a
nervous little laugheven if I have to embarrass
myself with her friends. You will forgive me, wont
you?
She looked so pathetic sitting there with her
ineffectual handkerchief waving helplessly that
Peggy couldnt keep from extending her hand.
Theres nothing to forgive, Miss Primrose, she
said.
Miss Primrose smiled back. Thank you, my
dear. Im sure we understand each other. Now, she
went on in a brisk tone, tell me your plans. Celia
says youll be staying a day or two and then moving
to London. And then the Continent, I suppose. Paris
. . . Rome . . . ahh, I envy you. It will be a marvelous
holiday.
But Miss Primrose, Peggy interrupted in a
puzzled voice, didnt Celia tell you?
Tell me what?
That Ive come to England to work. Not on
holiday.
47

Work? Why, whatever on? Are you a student?

Peggy smiled. In a way, yes. Ive come to study
the English theater.
The theater! Miss Primroses face had gone
white. Her handkerchief dropped from nerveless
fingers. Are youare you connected with the
theater? It was an effort for Miss Primrose to say
the words.
Why, yes, Peggy replied. Im an actress.
Miss Primrose flung her head back as if she had
been slapped. She rose and walked stiffly toward the
door. No, she said flatly, Celia most definitely
did not tell me. She turned the handle and stepped
out in the hallway. On her face Peggy saw
something more than disapproval. She saw fear
genuine terror. Miss Primrose opened her mouth and
then shut it again without saying what she had
intended. Instead, she merely announced, Dinner
will be at seven-thirty, Miss Lane. She pulled the
door shut, and left Peggy alone, staring after her.

48

V
A Three-Hundred-Year-Old Romance

Dinner that night was one of the most uncomfortable

meals that Peggy ever had sat through. Regal and
silent, Miss Primrose dominated the head of the
table, while at the other end, Celia tried desperately
to make conversation, obviously puzzled and hurt by
her aunts behavior.
Caught between the two of them, Peggy turned
her attention to the kindly, relaxed face opposite her.
She had liked Edward Hector from first meeting. He
was a hale old man, spare of body, with lean, sunbrowned fingers that still looked strong and
reassuring. A thin ascetic nose contrasted rather
pleasantly, Peggy thought, with a humorous mouth
and a pair of deep, tired eyes that must have seen a
great deal of human nature in their more than eighty
years.
Edward Hector was very much at home. He was
on a casual, first-name basis with Miss Primrose,
and, of course, he had known Celia since her
49

childhood. In spite of the atmosphere, everything

seemed to delight himespecially Peggy. And true
to Celias word, he was a wealth of information on
English lore and devoted his attention to discussing
sights that Peggy positively must not miss in the
neighborhood of Primrose Abbey. By the time
dessert was served, he had progressed to London,
and, in reply to Peggys eager questions, began
telling her about the historic London theaters.
Well, you see, said the vicar, polishing off a
wedge of Stilton cheese on a cracker, the London
theaters have had a somewhat checkered history.
People were always closing them or pulling them
down, and clapping all the actors in jail.
A sensible idea. The remark came from Miss
Primrose, and was so uncalled for that an abrupt
silence fell over the gathering.
Aunt Agatha! Celia cried in a shocked voice.
The vicar chuckled. A tactful remark, my dear
Agatha. One calculated to put your guest at ease.
He peered owlishly over at Peggy. You mustnt
mind her, Peggy. Of course, Agatha has never been
inside a theater in her lifebut then I suppose you
knew that.
No, I didnt, Peggy admitted.
The vicar looked surprised. Then you havent
been told the story of Primrose Abbey?
Peggy felt a flutter of excitement. I dont know
50

anything about it, she said.

Dear me. The vicar shook his head, but beamed
a happy smile. A regrettable oversight, but a happy
one for me. Now I shall be able to tell you all about
it.
Miss Primrose pushed back her chair and rose.
Really, Edward, she said, I dont think its
necessary
Nonsense, my dear. Its common knowledge. If
she doesnt hear it from us, shell get the story from
someone else and, like as not, hell muddle it all
up.
Very well, Miss Primrose said. But Im sure
youll excuse me. Ive had a trying day. She paused
at the doorway and addressed Celia. Ring for
Puncheon, Celia, and ask her to serve coffee in the
drawing room. Im going to my room. Good night.
There was a chorus of Good nights, and the
three of them were alone.
Edward Hector came around the table and offered
Peggy his arm. Shall we go in? he asked with a
smile. Im really looking forward to this.
Peggy, Celia, and the vicar passed into the
cheerfully lighted drawing room and sank
comfortably into a sofa before the fire. Minutes
later, Mrs. Puncheon made her appearance, wheeling
a trolley loaded with a coffee service. Celia
dismissed her, electing to pour for them herself so
51

that Edward Hector could begin. Now then, said

Celia, passing cups, let us sit upon the ground and
tell sad stories of the death of kings.
Edward Hector chuckled. Our story doesnt go
as far back as the time of Richard II. It only goes
back three hundred years.
Youre improving, said Celia, handing him the
cream. Usually when you tell it, you go over all the
kings of England starting with Ethelred the
Unready.

52

Tonight, the vicar said, we will have the

abridged version. I dont suppose, Peggy, he said
with a smile, that I have much to tell you about the
Puritans. But what most people forget is that all the
Puritans didnt go to America. Some of them stayed
in England, bitterly opposed to the policies of
Charles I. So bitterly opposed, as a matter of fact,
that in 1642, Civil War broke out. On the one side,
you had the Kings menthe Cavaliersand on the
other, you had the Puritans, or Roundheads, as they
were called. Civil wars are always terrible, and this
one was no exception.
Now, about that time, there lived a man called
Henry, Earl of Primrose. The vicar gestured out the
window. He lived in the Abbey whose ruins you
can see from this house. He was a quiet man. And
although he was a nobleman, the Puritans left him
alone because he was very careful not to attract
attention.
The vicar looked at Peggy over his coffee cup.
How much do you know about the history of the
theater in England? he asked.
A little, Peggy replied truthfully.
Well, you know about the theaters of
Shakespeares agethe Globe, the Rose, and the
Swan?
Yes, but that was fifty years earlier, wasnt it?
said Peggy.
53

The vicar set down his cup. Thats right. But as

the power of the Puritans became stronger, the
theaters had a much harder time. Parliament, which
was controlled largely by the Puritans, kept passing
laws and eventually closed the playhouses. You see,
they thought the theater was a dreadfully wicked
place.
Peggy nodded her understanding, and the vicar
stretched back into the sofa and continued. You
know, of course, that in Shakespeares time there
were no women on the stage. All the female parts
were played by young boys.
Peggy nodded.
According to most history books, the first stage
presentation in England to use a woman was an
opera by William DAvenant called The Siege of
Rhodes. One of the parts was sung by a Mrs.
Colman. That was in 1656. The vicar leaned
forward and raised a finger. However, he said,
she wasnt the first. In 1644, while the Civil War
was raging across England, a young girl named
Margaret Beresford made her debut in Romeo and
Juliet. Edward Hector smiled fondly. My, what a
sensation that must have made! Juliet at last played
by a woman.
Now I remember! Peggy exclaimed happily.
Thats where Id heard of Primrose Abbey. Its in a
footnote in one of my theater history books. The
54

footnote says the performance isnt documented.

It happened, my dear, the vicar assured her.
And the Puritans naturally were shocked even
though the audience was enchanted. And in that
audience, no one was more enchanted than a young
man whose name was Thomas Primrosenone
other than the son and heir of Henry Primrose, the
old gentleman who was nervously sitting out the
Civil War.
Peggy looked at Edward Hector with a smile.
Dont tell me they fell in love?
They did, came the emphatic answer. And
they were married. The vicar laughed. Oh, what a
scandal! An earls son marrying an actress! All
England buzzed with the gossip. And that, of course,
swung the spotlight on old Henry. The Puritans
decided to teach the House of Primrose a lesson. A
Captain Moncrieff led a force of men to the Abbey
with the intention of burning down the wicked place.
The old Earl heard about it and, for protection,
walled the place up. Moncrieff and his men ordered
him to come out. The Earl refused, and so the
Roundheads decided to smoke him out. They set fire
to the Abbey.
Oh, no! protested Peggy.
The flames raced across the roof, weakened the
timbers, and pretty soon one whole half caved in.
What happened to the Earl? Peggy asked
55

quickly.
The vicar sighed. He was killed. Moncrieff and
his men caught sight of him at one of the windows
just before he died.
What was he doing there?
The vicar shot Celia a strange look. In the pause
before he spoke, one of the logs in the fireplace
rolled over and sent a cascade of sparks flying up
the flue.
He shouted out a curse for all the world to hear.
He cursed his son for bringing about his death. He
cursed Margaret, his sons wife, and finally he laid a
curse on any of his descendants if they ever had
anything to do with the theater. It was a curse of
death.
A second log followed the first with a loud,
hissing noise. No one moved. Peggy felt a sudden
chill and rubbed her hands along her arms.
A curse? she echoed.
Yes, the vicar murmured.
Hashas anyone ever tested it? Peggy asked.
Oh, yes, the vicar said dryly. After the
Puritans fell from power and the monarchy was
restored, the new Earl of Primrose and his wife were
in London to attend the theater. One night, the
theater they were sitting in caught fire.
And they were killed? Peggy asked in a hushed
voice.
56

Yes. But the strange part is that everyone else

escaped. They were the only victims. Edward
Hector reached absentmindedly for his pipe and
tobacco pouch. Later, during the reign of William
and Mary, a distant relative of the Primrose
familybut a descendant of the Earls
nonethelesswas seen riding in the park with a
fashionable actress. For no reason, the horses bolted.
The carriage overturned, and the couple were
killed.
Peggy got up and moved closer to the fire. But
that was all a long time ago, she murmured in
protest.
Yes, the vicar replied softly. But there are
other He stopped short. The most recent
incident, he said after a moment, was the death of
Agathas own brother.
Peggy didnt want to believe the implications of
his statement. By the curse? she questioned.
The vicar shrugged. It happened in 1917. Agatha
was only a child at the time. Her brother had gone to
Cambridge, and while he was there, he had taken
part in an undergraduate skit. All he did was sing a
song with three other boys. But he was on the
stage. The vicar paused. All four of those boys
were killed in the trenches during the First World
War. He looked at Peggy with a sad smile. Now
do you see why Agatha Primrose would never go
57

inside a theater?
But thats dreadful! Peggy cried. Surely the
curse didnt have anything to do with those deaths?
Try telling that to Aunt Agatha, Celia said
bitterly.
Peggy gasped, suddenly realizing what Celias
decision to go to London really meant. Thats why
you
Celia nodded with a wry smile. Thats why its
so difficult for me to do the only thing in the world I
really want to do. The English girl gave an
impatient gesture. Naturally, I dont believe in this
family curse, but just about everybody else does.
How do you know its still in operation? Peggy
asked.
Because of the ghost, the vicar replied. You
see, the spirit of Henry Primrose still walks the ruins
of the Abbeyor so people say.
But how do they know?
Lights, for one thing. People in the village have
seen lights in the Abbey at night. Its been going on
for months.
Ever since I was in York and Celia
interrupted herself.
Peggy looked questioningly at her, but Celia was
silent. Are the people in the village sure its the
ghost? Peggy asked the vicar.
He laughed. Well, youre not going to get
58

anybody to volunteer to find out. Everyones scared

to death of the place. They avoid it even in the
daytime.
Why does a ghost need a light? Peggy asked
logically.
The vicar nodded. A good point, my dear.
Presumably because hes guarding the treasure.
The treasure!
Ah, thats the second part of the story. The
Primrose family, Peggy, is a very old one. They and
all their possessions are well documented in history.
Youll find all the details in the British Museum in
London if you ever want to look it up. At any rate,
on the night of the fire, one of their most precious
possessions disappeared. It was a tiaraa coronet,
to be exact, studded with jewels and intricately
worked with gold. The Primrose coronet was
extremely valuable, but no one has seen it for three
hundred years.
What about the people who set fire to the
Abbey? Peggy asked.
Moncrieff and his men? The vicar shook his
head. As a matter of fact, they went looking for it.
Their reports show they never found it.
But maybe they did find it, Peggy said, and
didnt report it.
I doubt that very much. If Moncrieff or one of
his lieutenants had stolen it, it would have turned up
59

by now. You cant hide something like the Primrose

coronet forever. Edward Hector tapped out his pipe
and rose. And there you have it, he said. The
skeleton in the Primrose family closet, and why
Celias Aunt Agatha is so dead set against the
theater.
And so dead set against me having anything to
do with it, Celia added.
Have you told her your plans yet? the vicar
asked.
Celia shook her head. Im still trying to get up
my courage. I know what an awful row its going to
be. Actuallyshe flashed Peggy an apologetic
smile thats why I was so keen on having Peggy
here. I thought if she liked Peggy, she wouldnt
object so much.
Im afraid Ive ruined that, Peggy said. Ive
already spilled the beans about being an actress.
The vicar gave a low whistle. So thats why
Agatha acted the way she did. He smiled
reassuringly at Peggy. You mustnt take it
personally, my dear. Its just that she really believes
in the curse.
And all the deaths in the family? Peggy asked.
How do you account for them?
Edward Hector paused. Its this way, he said at
last. Either you believe in ghosts and family curses
or you dont. If you do, then you have to go along
60

with the prevailing superstitions. But I dont happen

to believe in them. I think the deaths in the Primrose
family were coincidental.
Then youll back me up? Celia asked quickly.
The vicar shook his head. No, he said quietly.
Thats entirely a family matter and must be decided
by you. However, if she should ask me, I will tell
her that you should be allowed to live your own
life.
Well, thats something, at least, Celia said.
Yes, I suppose it is. The vicar moved to the
door, patting his pockets to make sure he had his
pipe and tobacco. And now I must be going. He
extended a hand to Peggy. Good night, Peggy. It
was a pleasure meeting you.
Thank you, said Peggy, and thank you for the
history.
The vicar stopped Celia as she was leaving the
room. Dont bother to show me out. I know the
way. He smiled at them both and disappeared into
the hall. A moment later they heard the front door
shut gently.
Celia went over to Peggy and took her by the
arm. Poor thing, she said. Youve had a hard day
and a worse evening. Now do you see what I meant
when I said I was sorry to have dragged you into
this?
Dont be silly, Peggy assured her. After all,
61

having a roommate in London will be just

wonderful.
Thanks for feeling that way. Celia turned to
collect the coffee things. You go on upstairs, she
said. Ill take care of this.
Peggy suddenly was so tired she could barely
stand. Nodding her appreciation, she turned and
stumbled to the door. Primrose Manor was quiet as
she made her way up the stairs and opened the door
to her bedroom. Giving free rein to her yawns,
Peggy got ready for bed. Just as she was crawling
under the covers, she thought of the windows. If she
didnt open them, the room would be stuffy by
morning.
Sighing wearily, she backed out of bed and
trudged over to the windows. As she raised the first
one, she caught a glimpse of the moon shining over
the copse of trees that screened the Abbey from the
Manor.
The old ruin brooded in the half light, quiet and
dark. Suddenly Peggy was snapped into full
wakefulness. Something had moved in the Abbey!
Her eyes, wide open now, could see it plainly. It was
a light at one of the windows. And then, as suddenly
as it came, the light went out.
Hardly daring to breathe, Peggy stood like a
statue, straining through the darkness for another
glimpse of the light. Nothing happened.
62

She waited a full minute, her heart throbbing with

a wild life of its own. A cloud drifted lazily over the
moon. The Abbey remained dark and quiet.
Dropping the curtain, Peggy turned to go to bed.
There had been a light in the Abbey. It was not just
her imagination. She was sure of it.

63

VI
A Twentieth-Century Suitor

Birds were singing outside her window as Peggy

awakened, feeling rested and surprisingly hungry.
She was almost dressed before she remembered the
light in the Abbey. She paused and peered out the
window. The Abbey looked serene and golden in the
morning sunlight. No hint of nightmare or terror
there.
Peggy brushed all thoughts of the mysterious
light out of her mind and opened the door leading to
the hall. She padded silently down the back stairs,
letting her nose guide her to the kitchen, where Mrs.
Puncheon was presiding busily over an enormous
iron stove.
Good morning, Peggy called.
Mrs. Puncheon whirled with a shriek. Oh, mercy
me, she exclaimed. I didnt expect anyone down
so soon.
Im sorry if I startled you, Peggy apologized.
Oh, thats all right, miss. Mrs. Puncheon
64

beamed. Ill have some kippers on in a tick. Or

would you prefer some nice sausages?
Peggy sniffed hungrily. The sausages sound
good, she decided.
You go on into the breakfast room, Mrs.
Puncheon said. Ill fetch it in for you.
Anyone else up?
No. Miss Agatha always has her breakfast on a
tray in her room, and Miss Celia wont be down for
another half hour.
If Im the only one down, Peggy said, reaching
for a loaf of bread and a knife, Id just as soon stay
here and help you.
Thats very kind of you, Im sure, miss, Mrs.
Puncheon said approvingly. A little companys
always nice. Mind you dont cut your fingers.
Oh, Ive done this before, Peggy assured her.
Mrs. Puncheon, she said.
Yes?
I saw the lights.
Mrs. Puncheon turned from the sausages and
gave Peggy a startled look. You did? She barely
breathed.
Actually, Peggy went on, there was only one
light. And I saw it just for a moment before it
disappeared.
Mrs. Puncheon nodded. Thats the way it comes,
miss. You wonder whether youve seen it at all.
65

I stayed at the window, waiting for it to shine

again, but it never did.
Have you told anyone?
Peggy shook her head. I havent had a chance. It
happened late last night.
Mrs. Puncheon returned to the frying pan and
gave it a shake. Well, I wouldnt if I were you, she
said. Miss Agatha wouldnt believe you, and
theres no point in frightening Miss Celia.
What do you suppose it is, Mrs. Puncheon?
Peggy asked.
Mrs. Puncheons honest face darkened. Theres
only one answer I can think of, she said with an air
of finality.
Then you believe in ghosts?
Aye, Mrs. Puncheon replied shortly. What else
is there to believe? She forked the sausages into a
plate and added a couple of eggs that had been
poaching on the back of the stove. What person in
his right mind would want to go wandering around
the Abbey at night? And night after night, at that.
No, miss, itll have to be a ghost. Now do sit down
and have your breakfast.
What about a stranger or a tramp? Peggy asked
suddenly, beginning to eat.
Mrs. Puncheon rejected the suggestion with a
shake of her head. Theyd be trespassing and
wouldnt dare use a light. Besides, a strangerd
66

never go near the place without half the village

knowing about it. And there havent been any new
faces around here. Youll have tea, miss?
Yes, please, Peggy replied absent-mindedly.
She was still thinking over the problem, refusing to
consider seriously the possibility of a ghost. Mrs.
Puncheon poured out the tea, hot and strong, and
handed over a jug of milk.
Ill be going upstairs now, she announced,
with Miss Agathas breakfast. Ill see if I cant
rouse Miss Celia.
Peggy nodded and went on eating. When she
finished, she stacked her plates in the sink and
wandered through the serving pantry, out into the
dining room, and on to the drawing room.
Standing by the remains of last nights fire,
poking the ashes with a heavy walking stick, stood a
young man, dressed rather carefully in a pair of
light-colored slacks and a sport jacket. As Peggy
entered the room, he looked up eagerly. But when he
caught sight of her face, his glance changed from
one of eager expectation to vague irritation.
Peggy advanced into the room with a smile.
Good morning, she said pleasantly. Im Peggy
Lane, a friend of Celias. Im staying here for day or
two.
The young man regarded her distastefully.
Hmmm, was all he said. Names Clapham.
67

Peggy hesitated, then went over to the window.

Its a glorious morning, isnt it? My first in
England.
If she had hoped that would start a conversation,
she was mistaken. All she got for her trouble was an
uncommunicative grunt. Mr. Clapham resumed his
project of poking the ashes in the fireplace.
I wonder what he hopes to find there, Peggy
thought to herself, looking at him out of the corner
of her eye. Goodness, he looks surly. I dont think I
like him much, with his slicked-down hair and
flabby face. Heavens, what am I going to say to
him?
Fortunately, Peggys problem was resolved by
Celias arrival. Mr. Clapham smiled with pleasure
when he saw her, and he advanced across the room.
Celia stopped at the sight of him, a smile slowly
fading from her face.
Good morning, Nigel, she said politely. Have
you two met?
Completely ignoring Peggy, the young man spoke
with an eager rush of words. Look here, Celia, he
said in a high-pitched, nasal voice. Its a ripping
day. Lets go for a spin.
But I have a guest.
Nigel pressed his lips together and threw Peggy a
baleful glance. I expect shes rather tired, mdear.
She just told me its her first morning in England.
68

That means shes come a distance, eh? Always need

a rest after a journey, what?
Nigel seemed to end all his sentences with a
question, a disconcerting habit, Peggy thought. She
wondered idly if she were expected to answer. But
Celia stepped in.
No, Nigel, she said firmly. I want to show
Peggy the village.
The young man looked crestfallen. Well, he
said, I suppose we could cram her into the car too.
Celia looked at Nigel coldly. Your invitations
are always so gracious that I cant think why I turn
so many of them down.
Nigel colored uncomfortably. Oh, I say, he
muttered. Dash it allI didnt mean He
fidgeted unhappily with his stick. What I mean to
say is that youre both frightfully welcome. He
smiled toothily at Peggy, who suddenly found
herself struggling with an overpowering urge to
stick her tongue out at him.
Celia sighed wearily. Nigel, I havent had my
breakfast, and Im in no mood for an extended
debate on the subject. Lets put it off, shall we?
Nigel, who had enough sense to recognize a lost
cause when he saw one, shrugged. Right-o, he
said in an unsuccessful attempt to be offhanded.
Tomorrow, then?
Celia groaned. I think we may be in London
69

tomorrow, she announced.

The news startled Nigel. His jaw slacked open.
In London! he gasped.
L-O-N
Yes, I know, but will you be gone long?
I expect so.
Butbut what will you be doing there?
Living there. With Peggy.
You mean you plan to get a job?
If I can. Now, Nigel, please let me have my
breakfast.
The young man moved away reluctantly. You
will let me know your address? he said in a hopeful
voice.
Of course, Celia agreed. I just love getting
Christmas cards, and I do hope youll send me one.
She reached over and shook Nigels hand. Goodby, Nigel. Have a pleasant day. Celia marched out
of the room, calling back over her shoulder.
Coming, Peggy?
Peggy followed obediently. Good-by, Mr.
Clapham, she said as she passed the unhappy
young man. Its been so nice meeting you.
Celia was waiting for Peggy in the kitchen, her
face a mixture of annoyance and amusement. That
pest! she hissed. He never leaves me alone. Wed
barely got back yesterday and he was here.
Who is he? Peggy asked, remembering the
70

figure she had seen walking along toward the

Manor.
Celia banged some pots on the stove. He showed
up last spring. Rented a small cottage and lives here
now.
What does he do?
Nothing. Lives on his income. Says he wants to
be a gentleman farmer. Claims to be on the lookout
for a piece of property where he can settle down.
Unfortunately, hes got Aunt Agatha under his
thumb. You should see the two of them together. Its
disgusting, the look of adoration in Aunt Agathas
eyes whenever she sees his pimply face.
But he doesnt have pimples, Peggy objected.
I know, but he should. Aunt Agatha is trying to
make a match, you know.
Between you and him? Peggy was aghast.
Exactly the way I feel about it, Celia said
grimly. Shes always after me about what a fine
young man Mr. Clapham is. Good and steady. So
rare to find a young man who has a sense of
responsibility and who knows how to keep a piece
of property. Thats all nonsense, of course, but you
cant convince her.
Now I see, Peggy said suddenly.
See what?
Aunt Agatha pumped me yesterday afternoon.
Wanted to know about your love life. She seemed
71

particularly concerned about Mal Seton.

About Mal! Celia looked at Peggy in
astonishment and then burst out laughing. I dont
know where she gets her ideas! Her voice changed.
But what rot! she cried. Ive really just got to get
out of this house. Im going to speak to Aunt Agatha
today.
Celia piled some food on a breakfast tray and was
carrying it into the dining room when a voice called
from upstairs. Celia! Was that a car I heard driving
away?
Celia sighed. Yes, Auntie. It was Nigel
Clapham.
What did he want?
He wanted to take me for a spin with him.
There was a pause. And you didnt?
Obviously not. Im still here.
There was another pause. I dont see why you
treat Nigel the way you do. Hes such a nice boy.
Hes such a nice pain in the neck, Celia
muttered under her breath. Then, in a louder voice,
she called, Im sure he is, Aunt Agatha.
Aunt Agatha made no reply for a moment.
Celia?
Yes, Auntie?
Have you had your breakfast?
It was Celias turn to pause. She gave Peggy a
meaningful glance, took a deep breath and
72

answered, Good idea, Auntie. Ill be right up.

Fine, my dear.
Celia took a firm grip on her breakfast tray and
looked grimly over at Peggy. Youd better take
cover, she said with a tight smile.
Youre going to tell her now?
Celia nodded. And dont think Im not scared.
Good luck, Peggy whispered. Ill be waiting.
All right. Meet you in the garden. I have a
feeling this will be short, but not particularly sweet.
Half an hour later, Celia made her appearance.
Her face was composed, but her mouth was set in a
thin line.
Well? Peggy asked anxiously.
Celias eyebrows rose. Pretty much what I
expected. She shook her head sadly. The dreadful
thing about it is that Aunt Agatha really does
believe. Shes sick with fear on my account. She
gazed moodily at a border of flowers. Shes certain
the Primrose curse is going to follow me to London.
You know, she said suddenly, I hate doing this to
her. She may be difficult and set in her ways, but I
love her. Shes all the family Ive got, you know.
Celias face took on that determined expression that
Peggy was beginning to recognize. But I cant see
living in fear for the rest of my life.
As the vicar said, Peggy observed quietly, its
your decision.
73

Celias shoulders straightened. Yes, she said

firmly. It is. She turned and strode toward the
house. Come on, lets go.
Where?
To pack. Were on our way to London.

74

VII
Bachelor Gals Apartment

Peggy stood in front of the quaint little mirror in the

bedroom of Celias apartment, or flat, as it was
called in London, trying to decide if brown gloves
would look all right with the shrimp pink wool dress
and oyster white coat she was wearing for her
sightseeing and theater date with Kurt. Usually, she
wore beige gloves with this costume, not wanting
her shoes, purse, and gloves all to be the same color.
But although she had unpacked yesterday evening
after she and Celia arrived in London, she still
wasnt entirely straightened around in her new
quarters, and she couldnt find her beige gloves.
What do you think? Peggy asked, walking to
the bedroom door to address her question to Celia,
who was writing a letter in the sitting room.
Stunning, said Celia, admiring Peggys dress.
No, said Peggy, I mean I cant find the right
gloves. Will these do?
Celia frowned. Do you have white? she asked.
75

I cant seem to find anything, Peggy confessed.

Rising, Celia came into the bedroom, opened a
drawer in the ornately carved tallboy, and produced
a pair of white gloves. Try these, she invited.
Do you have beige? Peggy asked.
Right-o, replied Celia, producing the required
article. What time is it? she inquired.
About twelve, said Peggy, trying Celias gloves
for size.
Do you have a shilling? asked Celia.
Peggy, accustomed now to Celias abrupt
conversational
transitions,
absent-mindedly
indicated her purse.
Im going to rob you, Celia announced. Im
out of shillings, and well be freezing if I dont feed
the beast.
What are you talking about? Peggy asked.
The gas, said Celia. Come here, she called,
leading the way through the sitting room into the
neat little kitchen. Id better show you.
Whats that? said Peggy, following Celia into
the kitchen, where the English girl stood beside a
metered box clamped to the wall. A fuse box?
Bless you, Peggy, said Celia, laughing. Its for
the heat. You see, you put a shilling in the slot and
that sends up the gas. Come on out here. She led
the way back into the sitting room. There, she
said. Theres the gas fireplace.
76

I see, said Peggy. But isnt that dangerous?

I suppose it is, if you forget to light the gas.
How long does a shilling last?
Usually about two or three hours, full blast. Not
like America where the houses have central
heating.
Have you been feeding it coins since we got
here? I owe you some money, Peggy said
anxiously.
Its only a few shillings. Celia dismissed the
subject. I wanted to show you how it works so you
wont be cold tonight if you get home before I do.
Youre going out? inquired Peggy, walking
back into the bedroom.
Right-o, Celia said cheerfully. Randy rang up
this morning before you woke up. Were doing a bit
of sightseeing too. But not until this evening. Hes
got something working with his play during the
day.
Peggy was glad she was back in the bedroom and
out of sight of Celia. She wouldnt have wanted
Celia to see her face when Celia pronounced the
words, Randy rang up. Struggling to make her
voice casual, Peggy called back, Too bad. About
Randy having to work today, I mean. We could have
doubled.
Doubled? questioned Celia.
The four of us could have gone together, said
77

Peggy, knowing that she was telling a polite lie and

that she secretly was more than glad Randys
appointments made it impossible.
Maybe another time, Celia called back.
Kurts leaving tomorrow, Peggy pointed out,
hoping her voice didnt betray the resentment she
felt at Celias casual assumption that she, Celia,
would be going out with Randy again.
Celia didnt answer, and Peggy was relieved to be
alone with her thoughts. Mechanically, she finished
dressing, trying to recapture the happy feeling she
had had five minutes ago. She had been excited
about exploring London and thrilled to be dressing
for a glamorous day with such an interesting date as
Kurt Werner. Now, three little words from Celia had
marred her pleasure. But, Peggy told herself, it
would be unfair to blame Celia. During the visit at
Primrose Manor, Peggy had learned that she
genuinely liked Celia. And Peggy had faced the fact
that she would be sharing a London flat with a truly
beautiful English girl, a girl to whom Randy already
had indicated his interest, but also a girl facing
problems in establishing her right to an independent
life. Peggy herself had solved similar problems too
recently not to remember how painful the experience
can be.
Momentarily, thinking about Randys interest in
Celia, Peggy had been tempted to walk out on the
78

whole situation, but she knew she couldnt do it. In

the first place, Celia did need some moral support.
And in the second place, Peggy didnt want to be a
possessive person. She didnt own Randy. He was as
free to date Celia as she, Peggy, was to see Kurtor
Doug Taylor, for that matter. And if Randy was no
longer interested in her, she could hardly blame
Celia for the changed relationship. Finally, Peggy
didnt intend to allow jealousy to change her life.
The shrill ring of the telephone interrupted
Peggys thoughts.
Ill answer it, Celia called.
Peggy could hear Celias muted voice as she
answered the telephone, and then the voice, still
muted, although Celia now stood at the bedroom
door, saying, Its for youTony Barstowe.
Must be about rehearsals, Peggy said, making
her way into the sitting room.
Im going to post this letter, muttered Celia,
flinging on a jacket and flinging open the door to the
hallway almost in one motion.
Hi, said Peggy, speaking into the telephone as
she watched the door close behind Celia.
Tony, cool as ever, responded to her greeting,
inquired without much display of interest if shed
enjoyed her stay in the country and if the flat was
suitable, then got down to the business of
rehearsalsthe first one was called for next
79

Monday. He gave Peggy the address of the theater,

warned her not to be late, and in the same
businesslike voice asked if shed enjoy a bit of
sightseeing with him.
Concealing her surprisenot only at the offer,
but also at the detached manner in which it was
madePeggy accepted, puzzling, as she said goodby and replaced the receiver in its cradle, at the
curious charm of Tony Barstowe. An interesting
boy, she decided for the second time. She wondered
what had caused him to issue the invitation, but she
was even more puzzled about his pose as a
misogynist. Its odd, Peggy thought, but its as
though Ive known him before. Only, of course, I
havent. Its like everything in England. Ive read so
much about it that it all seems familiar.
Read! That was it! She had read about Tony! Or
not really Tony, but Lord Byron. Tony was Lord
Byron! Peggy laughed to herself. She couldnt
remember if shed ever seen a portrait of the famous
poet, but the physical resemblance, if it existed,
didnt matter. It was that Byronic mood of romantic
isolation. Well, Peggy mused, Lord Byron certainly
had his secrets. What, she wondered, was the secret
of Tony Barstowe? Perhaps she would find out
during the weeks ahead. She laughed again, this
time out loud. England, it seemed, was full of
secrets.
80

Glancing at her wrist watch, Peggy jumped from

her chair and scurried to the bedroom to get her coat.
If she didnt hurry, shed be late. She had promised
to meet Kurt at one oclock at Trafalgar Square, and
she still had to cope with the mysteriesthere was
that word again!of the London subway system,
the underground, they called it.
Clutching her purse and a map of the city, she
locked the door of the flat, then hesitated, concerned
that Celia perhaps had gone out without her key.
Should she leave the door unlocked for her?
Footsteps on the stairs solved her dilemma.
There you are, Peggy greeted Celia. I couldnt
decide if I should lock the door or not.
I have a key, said Celia. Youre off. You look
lovely. Enjoy yourself.
Thanks, said Peggy, slipping into the coat
which she had tossed over her shoulders in her haste
to leave the flat.
Tear, advised Celia, unlocking the door.
Youll be late.
Okay. By, called Peggy, tackling the first of
the five flights of stairs. In her haste, her foot
slipped, and she clutched at the rail, struggling for
balance. The rail was solid, and she righted herself,
looking down to see what had caused the near
mishap. Her eye fell on a shiny object. Picking it up,
she examined it, identifying it as an ornate, old81

fashioned key. It was so heavy that it felt like solid

gold. Turning it in her hand, Peggy saw that a
catchnow defectivehad been added so that the
key could be worn as a pin.
You didnt hurt yourself? called Celia, who had
turned in time to witness the near accident.
Im not hurt, said Peggy. But come look at
this.
Oh! gasped Celia, her hand instinctively
moving to the shoulder of her sweater as she saw the
pin in Peggys hand. It must have fallen off. I
didnt know Id lost it.
Its a beautiful pin, Peggy said, handing it over.
You like it? Celia said, pleased. Its as old as
the hills, you know. Been in the family for eons.
Aunt Agatha gave it to meits supposed to go to
the Primrose heir in each generationso Id mind
like the deuce to lose it. Thats why I dont wear it
very often.
It was used as a key? Peggy asked.
I dont think so, Celia said doubtfully. I think
there was a fad for these things a couple of centuries
ago and probably its always been a pin.
Well, youd better have the clasp fixed, advised
Peggy.
Youre right, Celia agreed. Thanks,
indicating the pin. I mean for everything, she
added awkwardly.
82

Its nothing, Peggy replied sincerely. Thanks

for giving me a home, and showing me Primrose
Abbey, and
Have a good time with Kurt, Celia said.
You toowith Randy, Peggy replied, meeting
Celias eyes directly. Then Peggy hastened down the
stairs to her appointment in Trafalgar Square.

83

VIII
Moonlight on the Thames

The underground ride from the old six-story Tudor

house off Kensington High Street had been simpler
than Peggy had anticipated. Shed even managed the
changes at Notting Hill Gate and Oxford Circle
without difficulty. As she emerged at Trafalgar
Square, Peggy wondered momentarily if shed
recognize Kurt. Shed only known him for a few
days, and somehow everything was different now
that she was back on land. But stepping onto the
pavement above ground, she immediately lost all
thought of practical arrangements. Trafalgar Square!
England did not forget the old sea lord who had
given an arm and an eye beating back the enemy
fleets which had periled her safety so long ago. Yes,
there was the great soaring column to Lord Nelson!
There were the lions, and there were the fountains.
And the pigeons!
Peggy was in London! For the first time, she
experienced the full thrill of the word. London! It
84

was all about herwith its beautiful palaces, parks,

gardens, historic shrines, famous theaters, houses of
government. She was in the very center of it!
You look very well today, Kurt greeted her,
taking her arm to attract her attention. You were
happy in the country?
Oh! Peggy said, breathless. Hi, Kurt. Its good
to see you. Im just realizing Im actually in
London.
This is the city, Kurt said, an amused smile on
his face. What would you like to see first?
Everything, Peggy announced. The changing
of the guard at Buckingham Palace.
Kurt laughed happily. Today we are not on
time, he said. This ceremony is at eleven and a
half in the morning. Now it is too late. But come, we
are in the most interesting section of the city. I will
show you.
Kurts rather stilted English brought a smile to
Peggys lipsuntil she remembered her own halting
attempts to speak French. Kurt, seeing the smile,
smiled down at her. Come, I show you, he said.
And show her he did, walking her for what
seemed like miles as they viewed the highlights,
beginning with the undistinguished old building off
Trafalgar Square which houses the great painting
collection of the National Gallery. They saw
Piccadilly Circuscalled the hub of the British
85

Commonwealthwith its statue of winged Eros and

famous streets radiating in all directions; St. Jamess
Palace, once the home of Anne Boleyn and now the
official residence of the Court of St. James;
Marlborough House, longtime home of royalty, but
built for John Churchill, first Duke of Marlborough,
hero of Blenheim, and founder of the great family
which gave the world Sir Winston Churchill;
mammoth Buckingham Palaceofficial residence
of Her Majesty the Queenguarded by colorfully
clad sentries in bright scarlet tunics and tall black
busbys; the impressive Queen Victoria Memorial;
Buckingham Gate and Wellington Barracks, the
latter named for the hero who led the British forces
to victory over Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo.
Peggy felt as though she were walking through
history. Kurt was a lucid, informative guide,
explaining everything, tossing in footnotes to
history, displaying a knowledge that amazed Peggy,
the more so because he was German, not English.
Suddenly, walking down Tothill Street, Peggy
spied Westminster Abbey in front of her. Can we
go in? Just for a minute? she begged. Earlier,
standing in front of the National Gallery, they had
agreed that today Peggy would content herself with
a walking tour and not be tempted to go inside any
of the buildings, because, of course, arty one of
them contained sufficient treasuresactual and
86

historicto occupy a visitor for more than one

afternoon.
You wish it? replied Kurt. We break our rule,
he said, leading her up the steps of the historic old
church, site of the coronations of almost all
Englands kings and queens since William the
Conqueror in 1066.
Inside, Peggy looked around the hushed interior
almost reverently as Kurt quietly explained that the
abbey originally was built by Saxons, was rebuilt by
Edward the Confessor in the eleventh century, and
again rebuilt by Henry III in the thirteenth century.
Respectfully, he pointed out the tombs of the
illustrious English dead buried in the nave, directed
her eyes to the Coronation Chair, reported that
Scotlands famous Stone of Scone and the helmet
worn by Henry V at the Battle of Agincourt were
part of the treasures owned by the abbey.
We must go, he urged, and Peggy obediently
allowed him to lead her outside, resolving she would
revisit the beautiful building sometime soon.
They walked a little distance in silence, circling
the exterior of the abbey. Somewhere a clock
boomed four times, and Peggy, looking around,
clapped her hands. Its Big Ben, she cried in
delight.
Kurt smiled down at her. You can almost see the
clock from Trafalgar Squarewhere we started, he
87

said, but you were too excited.

Oh! Peggy scarcely breathed the syllable, as
she stopped absolutely still, realizing where she was.
Oh! she repeated in awe, feeling sudden tears
sting her eyes.
Kurt, watching her, said gently, Yes. They are
the Houses of Parliament. You are moved? You
have tears.
Peggy nodded, unwilling to speak.
Of course, Kurt said, speaking very gently.
You are Anglo-Saxon. I can guess in advance that
of all we see this Mother of Parliaments will move
you.
Peggy nodded again, grateful for his
understanding. Im being silly, she stammered.
No! Kurt protested. Do not mistake me. I
tooI am moved. Wethe rest of the worldwe
envy you this. We wish it for ourselves, this
unbroken tradition of free men governing
themselves.
I had no idea Id be crying, Peggy apologized.
Its just that
You feel better now? asked Kurt. Come, we
have no time to linger, he instructed in response to
her nod. We miss many interesting things. And a
little later, he was pointing out the Foreign Office.
This is Downing Streetwith the home of the
Prime Minister, he advised, pointing to his left.
88

Then we come to the Treasury and the Admiralty.

Remind me, said Peggy, to hire you as a guide
for my entire trip.
It is a pleasure, said Kurt. Do you wish to
walk on Downing Street? he inquired. At the end,
we come to the Horse Guards Paradewhere the
ceremony of Trooping the Colors is conducted
each spring.
But Peggy, suddenly weary from the long walk
and all her mixed emotions, shook her head. Could
we find some place to rest? she asked.
Certainly, Kurt agreed. It is time for the
ceremony of tea, I think. In England, one must take
tea. Besides, at the tea, one also eats. Then perhaps
you will feel refreshed, and we can visit a few more
beautiful places before we arrive at the theater. We
will dine after the play.
Big Ben was striking three as Peggy cast a last
lingering glance over the moonlit water of the
Thames River.
I must take you home, said Kurt. Your friend
will be worried for you. But he too seemed in no
hurry.
I dont know where the times gone, Peggy said
dreamily. But she knew very well, of course, where
theyd been; it was only that the hours seemed to
have flown. First, there had been tea at Harrods
89

with scones and black currant jam and almond tarts.

Then theyd walked around the neighborhood of the
theaters before hurrying across Waterloo Bridge to
the Old Vic for the evenings performance of Romeo
and Juliet. For Peggy, it had been a magical
performance, the youth and vitality of the actors
communicating young love through the poetry of the
play in a manner that Peggy hadnt dreamed was
possible. This was acting! Even being inside the Old
Vic, with its colorful history dating back to 1818,
excited Peggy.
After the performance, Peggy and Kurt had dined
slowly, leisurely, and elegantly in the Barrie Room
at Kensington Palace Hotel. The choice of a
restaurant named after Sir James Barrie, creator of
the immortal Peter Pan, had seemed to Peggy the
perfect end of a perfect day. But that was before
dinner was served. It too was perfect. Kurt ordered
authoritatively and well, choosing the same menu
for both of them, lobster cocktail, Scampis au Vin
Iles (prawns tossed in butter with sherry-and-cream
sauce), and raspberries with cream for dessert. Then
coffee was an elaborate ritual.
Despite the hour, they had lingered in Kensington
Gardens, and admired Kensington Palace. Finally, in
a taxi en route to Peggys flat, Peggy expressed a
wish to see London at night from Westminster
Bridgethe view described so movingly by the poet
90

Wordsworth.
Earth has not anything to show more fair,
Kurt had quoted quietly, continuing the poem as
Peggy, walking hand in hand with him, had joined
him for the rest of the lines, ending together, Dear
God! The very houses seem asleep; And all that
mighty heart is lying still.
Peggy didnt know how long they had drunk in
the beauty of the city at nightthis sleeping city of
Wordsworth. But Big Ben said it was three oclock.
We take a taxi, and this time you go home,
Kurt said softly. I hate this day to end.
Me too, murmured Peggy.
They were quiet in the taxieverything already
had been said. Peggy knew Kurt would be in
Scotland for a few weekshis investment firm
wanted him to perform a special service therebut
he would try to be back in London for Peggys
opening night. Reluctantly, they had agreed it was
perhaps better that he be gone from London, since
Peggy needed to devote all her energy to rehearsals.
The lights are on! Peggy exclaimed in surprise
as the taxi pulled up in front of the old Tudor House.
Why on earth do you suppose Celias up?
We will know soon, said Kurt, opening the taxi
door for Peggy.
Hastily, Peggy unlocked the entrance door to the
old house and began to ascend the five flights of
91

stairs. Kurt paid the driver and followed her. On the

last level, Peggy produced her key to the flat, then
noticed the door was already open. Celia appeared
immediately.
Oh, there you are! she exclaimed in relief. I
was so worried, I called Randy to come back over.
We were about to notify the police!
Behind Celia, his face showing signs of strain,
Randy stood silent, looking from Peggy to Kurt.

92

IX
Dynamic Projection

Once again Peggy was scurrying around the little

old-fashioned bedroom dressing for a date. During
the past week, the frantic rush to dress had become
almost routine as first one and then another of Mal
Setons friends showed her around London.
Goodness, but shed seen a lot and there was so
much more to see. But tomorrow was Monday, and
rehearsals would begin for Come Closer.
In a way, Peggy, although she was eager for her
part and looked forward to the discipline of
rehearsals, regretted that work began tomorrow; she
would have liked a little more time to explore the
city. She still hadnt seen the inside of the British
Museum, or the National Gallery, nor been back to
Westminster Abbey, norbut the list seemed
endless.
On her date with Tony Barstowe, he had driven
her the twenty-odd miles to Windsor Castle, which
is the actual home of Britains ruling family. The
93

largest inhabited castle in the world, it was built by

William the Conqueror and for eight hundred years
has been the home of English sovereigns. In
Windsor Great Park, Peggy had caught a glimpse of
Her Majesty riding with the young princess! The
day with Tony had been amusingor rather Tony
had been amusing, teasingly pointing out to her that
she was more excited about seeing the Queen than
any Londoner would have been. But Peggy couldnt
exactly say that her quest for information about the
mystery of Tony Barstowe had been a success. He
was as cool, detached, and isolated as ever. Well,
maybe tonight. Tony was taking her to dinner to go
over a few of his ideas about the play before
rehearsals began.
A door closed in the sitting room. Celia, Peggy
thought. Celia coming home from another date with
Randy. During the past week, Peggy scarcely had
seen her roommate, and she hadnt seen Randy at all
since that dreadful nightwhen he and Celia had
waited for Kurt to bring her home. Peggy had
managed simply not to be in the flat when Randy
called for Celiaif that was how Celia was
spending her time. Peggy didnt actually know,
since Celia didnt say. The English girl was now as
closemouthed about her activities as she originally
had been confiding. But she certainly had been gone
all dayevery day. And Peggy wasnt going to ask
94

questions. The only clue Celia had offered was a

notewhich Peggy had found when she woke up
after sleeping the clock around the day after her date
with Kurt. Gone to see a man about a play, the
note had read. Peggy had been gone when Celia
returned that evening, and somehow the roommates
had been leaving notes and saying hello to each
other as they passed in and out of the flat since that
time.
Youre home! Celia exclaimed as she strolled
into the bedroom, pulling off her coat as she walked.
Going out again? she asked. I was rather hoping
we could spend the evening together. This week has
been hectic. Celia flung herself across a twin bed as
she finished her complaint.
Only for dinner, Peggy replied.
Well, maybe better luck next week, said Celia,
giggling a little. We could make a formal date to
have dinner together. Suddenly, Celia laughed, and
Peggy joined her, their laughter expressing the joy
of young girls frankly having a marvelous time in a
marvelous place.
Who is it tonight? asked Celia.
Tony Barstowe, said Peggy, adjusting her
second earring and pulling back to view the effect in
the mirror.
Oh, said Celia in a tiny little voice.
Ill be in early, Peggy said. Were only going
95

to go over a few details of the production.

Rehearsals begin tomorrow.
Celia didnt reply. But once again, Peggy sensed
the forlorn, almost little-girl quality in Celia that had
first become apparent during the drive from
Southampton to Primrose Abbey. In a burst of
combined inspiration and generosity, Peggy offered,
Would you like to come along to rehearsals
tomorrow? It might be interesting for you to see a
real stagefrom backstage, I mean. Im sure Im
not supposed to invite you, but I dont think Tony
would mind.
Thanks, replied Celia. Randy already invited
me.
Oh, said Peggy, her voice subdued now. Well,
Im glad youre coming, she finished, forcing
herself to be generous.
Oh, I cant come, Celia replied, shoving herself
up against a pillow.
Peggy whirled around in surprise.
Ive been trying to tell you, Celia began shyly,
but there just didnt seem to be a proper moment.
For heavens sake, what? Peggy demanded.
Well, said Celia, speaking slowly and carefully,
I didnt want to tell you until it was definite. And I
wasnt certain it was definite until this afternoon. I
just spoke to Mr. Tebbetts. He was going to tell me
tomorrow, but I couldnt wait, so I finally rang him
96

up. Ive been walking all afternoontrying to

decide if Id dare.
Peggy searched her roommates face. What are
you trying to say? Who is Mr. Tebbetts? she asked.
Oh, Peggy! Celia exclaimed happily. I have a
part!
You mean youve landed a job, and you havent
told me until just now? Peggy demanded. But
thats wonderfulthe part, I mean.
Ill tell you about the job, Celia said eagerly. It
began last Monday. I saw this advertisement.
Where?
In the paper. It said they were looking for young
actresses. No experience required.
Peggy started to interrupt, but changed her mind.
Something sounded oddbut, Peggy reminded
herself, she wasnt familiar with London theater
practices. Maybe things were different here than in
New York. And you answered the ad? Peggy
prompted.
Celia nodded. I went to an address in Earls
Court, she went on. It was a place called the
Dynamic Art Studio.
The what? Peggy asked, suspicion creeping
into her voice.
Its a sort of training school run by a man named
Ernest Tebbetts. Celias face lighted up. Oh,
Peggy, wait until you meet him. Hes marvelous.
97

Hmmm.
Hes acted all over the world and speaks about
eight different languages, and hes developed an
entirely new system of acting. He calls it dynamic
projection.
Peggy didnt quite know what to say. But I
thought you said you had a job, she said.
Celia made a quick motion with her hand. Well,
you see, hes preparing a production of
Shakespeares Othello for a year from now
A year! Peggy said sharply.
I know it seems like a long time, Celia
explained. But hes got to train the cast in these
new techniques.
You mean the techniques of dynamic
projection? Peggy said dubiously.
Exactly. And that takes time. But oh, Peggy, I
worked with him all week, and Friday I tried out.
And?
Celia clapped her hands together in delight. He
said I was perfect for the part of Desdemona.
Peggy avoided Celias eyes. When do you start
rehearsals? she asked.
Right away.
And theyre to go on for a whole year? Peggy
still couldnt get it straight.
Celia nodded. Of course, Ill have to take
lessons with Mr. Tebbetts before I can do the part
98

the way he wants it.

Ah, there it was, Peggy thought to herself. How
much do these lessons cost? she asked.
How did you know? Celia cried. I wasnt
going to tell you that.
Peggy smiled. Its an old story, Celia. I think
your Mr. Tebbetts is a crook.
Peggy! Celia was shocked. How can you say
that? Mr. Tebbetts is so anxious to meet you. I told
him all about your being an actress. I even asked
him if you couldnt be in the play.
What did he say?
Well, Celia admitted, he didnt think you
would be right for Othello. But thats because
youve already developed some bad habits, she
added hastily.
Despite herself, Peggy was amused. What sort of
bad habits?
Celia suddenly became very serious. To act in
the style of dynamic projection, she declared
solemnly, it is very important to rid ones mind of
the techniques of the conventional theater.
And Mr. Tebbetts still wants to meet me?
Despite my bad habits?
Not at the studio, Celia said reluctantly. He
said that you might disturb some of his students.
Dynamic projection is a delicate art form.
I can see that it is, Peggy said dryly. She looked
99

at Celia with a sympathetic smile. Oh, Celia, she

said as kindly as she knew how, youve been taken,
darling, you honestly have. I mean, look at it this
way. A man claims hes going to offer you a job but
instead of his paying you, you end up paying him.
But its only temporary, Celia insisted. Hes
promised me the part of Desdemona.
Peggy shook her head. Itll never happen.
You dont think Ill get the part?
I dont think the play will ever come off.
Celia stared moodily at her hands, frowning with
fierce concentration. Looking at her, Peggy
suddenly felt sorry she had said anything. She
reached over and touched Celia on the shoulder.
Look here, she said softly. Maybe Im all
wrong about Mr. Tebbetts. Why dont you try it for
a while and see? When are you supposed to start
rehearsing?
Tomorrow.
All right, then, Peggy said. Go to it, and good
luck to you. But let me do one thing.
Whats that?
Despite what Mr. Tebbetts says, let me come to
the studio and see what youre doing. Peggy raised
a hand as Celia started to object. Now wait a
minute, let me finish. I wont do a thing for several
days. Thatll give you a little time. Okay?
Celia nodded. Fine, she said. But dont come
100

for a week. Promise?

Peggy grinned at her. Promise, she said.
But Peggy broke her word the next day when she
opened the unaddressed letter she found lying on the
rug just inside the front door of their flat.

101

X
The Primrose Curse

Peggy first saw it when she reached into the sitting

room closet to get her coat. The letter was lying on
the small square of carpet in front of the door as if it
had been pushed through the crack. Puzzled, Peggy
bent down to pick it up. There was no address on the
white, somewhat soiled envelope.
Peggy turned it around. Nothing there, either.
Acting on impulse, she ripped up the gummed
label. A single piece of paper was stuffed inside.
Peggy spread it out and read:
BEWARE THE PRIMROSE CURSE!
Peggy caught her breath and dropped the paper.
She stood against the door and listened. Celia
already had gone for the day. The hallway outside
was silent. Taking a deep breath, Peggy closed her
hand around the knob and pulled abruptly. The
landing outside was deserted.
Was it a practical joker, Peggy thought, or
somebody out to frighten Celia? Peggy couldnt
102

believe that anyone would do such a thing for a

laugh. But if that was true, it meant that some person
in London wanted to terrorize Celia. Why?
Peggy decided that she would go to Mr. Tebbetts
studio and talk to Celia at lunch. But now she had
better report to rehearsal.
Theaters everywhere, Peggy decided as she
pushed her way into the lobby of the Coronet, were
alike. She looked arounda little in awe of the great
empty auditorium with its rows of empty seats. She
felt the familiar feeling of tension mount in her
chest. She wondered if she ever would learn to
conquer that particular fear. Every instinct told her
to turn around and run from the theater. It demanded
so much and gave so little. What a ridiculous way to
live!
Peggy continued doggedly on toward the stage. A
group of people were standing before the apron,
deep in conversation. One of them looked up and
saw her.
Hello, he said with a pleasant smile. Im Ron
Standish, stage manager for the show. Youre
Peggy Lane, Peggy finished for him.
I knew you must be, he said. Tony told me
hed cast an American girl for the American role. He
had a beastly time with Equity about it. But he
finally persuaded them. Peggy knew that British
103

Actors Equity was far stricter than American

Actors Equity about permitting foreign artists to
work in its theaters.
I didnt know it was an American role, said
Peggy, smiling.
You cant tell from the play what country the
action takes place in, Standish pointed out. So all
the other roles can as easily be English as American.
But its more convincing to have an American
playing the role of the ex-child movie star. Or thats
the story Tony told Equity anyway. He turned to
the group with whom he had been working. Meet
the cast, he told Peggy. This is Sibyl Cranton.
Shes doing the part of Alison.
Peggy
greeted
the
redheaded
actress,
complimenting her on her most recent movie role.
I caught you in New York in this very play.
Good show, said Sibyl, returning the compliment.
Quickly Standish introduced her to Jack Higgins,
who had the male lead; Jane Holloway, who would
play the role that one of Peggys housemates in New
York had taken in the original production; and to
three or four actors whom Peggy tried mentally to fit
into the framework of the play at the same time that
she tried to place them in the English movies in
which she had seen them act. Contrary to practice in
the United States, almost all English actors worked
in movies and television as well as live theater.
104

Standish was just finishing the introductions

when Tony Barstowe strode purposefully up the
aisle. Immediately assuming his task as director, he
called for line readings of Act One, Scene One.
Hours later, Peggy stretched wearily, yawned
lavishly, and thought happily that it was good to be
back at work. The readings had gone well; this
English cast really knew its business. All of them
were experienced actors and actresses and their
work during first readings showed it. Peggy, who
had played her role before, realized with pride that
she had no reason to be ashamed of her own work
among this group of professionals. She remembered
with a wry smile the first readings of the play in
New Yorkwhen the cast had been composed of
inexperienced beginners. Quite a difference!
Peggy had won rave notices with her performance
in New York, and she was determined that the
London critics would have no occasion to complain
that the one American actress was the weakness of
the production.
Goodness! Peggy started as she looked at her
watch. How late it was! Good heavens! She must get
to Celia. Nervously, she glanced at her watch again.
In the joy of being back at work, she had completely
forgotten about Celia. There had been no time to go
to the Dynamic Art Studio at the lunch breakTony
had wanted to discuss Peggys accent over
105

sandwiches. He didnt want it to sound too

incongruously American among all the English
accents of the other cast members. Finally, they had
decided that Peggy would use the accent of the
Eastern seaboard of the United Stateswhich would
sound American to an English audience, but not too
out of harmony with the other voices in the play.
Peggy, definitely nervous about Celia now,
wondered impatiently if Tony would ever dismiss
the cast. He was working on a scene with Sibyl
Cranton and kept having her repeat three or four
sentences. Peggy didnt want Celia to leave the
studio or return to the flat alone. Would Tony never
be through!
But at last, Tony, after conferring with Ron
Standish, seemed satisfied. Standish announced the
rehearsal schedule for the next day, and Peggy was
free to leave.
Halfway down the aisle, she heard Tony calling
her back.
Oh, Tony, she said almost desperately. Can it
wait? Ive just got to meet Celia. Its a matter of life
and death.
Tony, looking puzzled, waved her off.
Peggy, who had taken a taxi to the address Celia
had mentioned, found the Dynamic Art Studio after
a bit of preliminary searching. It was located on the
106

third floor of a tired-looking building. Peggy

climbed up the steps and opened a frosted glass
door.
She came into a large room, barren of all
furniture save a dozen or so folding chairs, a deeply
scarred table, and a small raised platform built along
the far wall. Standing on the platform was Celia. Her
eyes were closed, her body was rigid, but the hint of
a smile played across her face. In one of the chairs
below that platform Peggy saw a man. His back was
toward her, and he appeared to be reading a
newspaper. Neither the man nor Celia said a word.
Finally the manPeggy assumed he was Mr.
Tebbetts turned a page and then reached down to
scratch his ankle. Celia remained frozen in her
position.
Frowning in bewilderment, Peggy took a step
forward. The man in the chair must have heard her,
for he leaped to his feet and whirled to face her.
Celia opened her eyes and saw Peggy.
Peggy! she cried in a hurt voice.
The man strode angrily over to Peggy, waggling a
suspiciously dirty finger at her. Well, of course
now youve spoiled all our work, he said rapidly.
Every last single bit of it. He almost stamped on
the floor with rage.
Celia stepped down from the platform. Peggy,
you promised, she said reproachfully.
107

Yes, I know, Peggy said hastily. But

something rather important has happened and I
simply had to see you.
Something rather important! stormed the
terrible-tempered Mr. Tebbetts. Nothing is
important enough to interrupt art!
This is Mr. Tebbetts, Celia explained. My
friend, Peggy Lane. The American girl I told you
about.
Mr. Tebbetts checked his tirade and stared at
Peggy suspiciously. Ah, yes, the actress. He shook
his head mournfully. I would have thought that
youan artist yourselfwould have understood the
value of concentration.
I do, Peggy assured him. Ordinarily, I would
never have come. But I think when I explain to
Celia, shell understand.
Mr. Tebbetts shrugged. Very well, he said
frostily. I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Wycliffe.
Celia hung back, an expectant smile on her face.
Now that Peggy is here, she ventured, why dont
we let her see what were working on?
Mr. Tebbetts glanced at Peggy nervously. No,
he muttered, the spell is broken.
But it isnt for me, Celia cried, heading back to
the tiny stage. I feel sure I could pick it up.
Mr. Tebbetts look was eloquent in its fury as he
rushed up to the platform to stop Celia. I insist,
108

Miss Wycliffe, he shouted.

Celia looked at him curiously. Peggy smiled to
herself. That was Celias stubborn face. She
recognized it at once.
Nonsense, Mr. Tebbetts, Celia replied,
arranging herself in the position that Peggy had seen
earlier. Both eyes slowly closed and a beatific smile
stole over her face.
Peggy stood quite still, not knowing quite where
to look. After a while, Celia cocked one eye open.
What do you think of it? she asked.
Ahvery effective, Peggy said tactfully.
You see! Celia cried triumphantly. I am
improving! I knew it!
Excellent, excellent, muttered Mr. Tebbetts.
But now, I think its time
Its Desdemonas entrance in the first act of
Othello.
Is it? Peggy said. Well, well.
Im projecting an emotion, Celia announced
proudly. Mr. Tebbetts went through the scene very
carefully and pointed out that Desdemonas two
overpowering feelings were firmness and
tenderness.
But they seem to be opposites, Peggy pointed
out.
Exactly! Celia bubbled. And thats what
makes it so difficult.
109

Mr. Tebbetts looked decidedly unhappy. Peggy

determined to make him squirm even further. Have
you worked on any readings yet? she asked
innocently.
Oh, no, Celia said seriously. Mr. Tebbetts says
its far too early to begin that. We have to start with
the fundamentals.
I see, Peggy said. And what does Mr. Tebbetts
do while you keep your eyes closedor rather,
while you project?
Celia looked interested. Yes, what do you do?
she asked brightly.
Mr. Tebbetts colored uncomfortably. IerI
concentrate, he stammered. I try to attune myself
to your message.
Celia nodded. Peggy leaned down and picked up
the newspaper that had slipped to the floor. She
noticed with amusement that it was open to the
sporting page. Mr. Tebbetts started abruptly and
snatched the newspaper out of her hand. Im afraid
Im going to have to close the studio, he snapped.
I had no idea it was this late.
Celia and Peggy followed him as he struggled
into his hat and coat.
And its taken you a whole day just to do
Desdemonas entrance, Peggy mused, watching
Mr. Tebbetts out of the corner of her eye.
Oh, were not finished yet, Celia assured her.
110

Peggys eyes widened. No wonder rehearsals are

going to take a year. You work very slowly, Mr.
Tebbetts.
Cant rush Shakespeare, replied that gentleman
with a grunt.
Why, it might even take you two years, Peggy
went on maliciously. Or fiveor even ten.
They passed out into the hall and went downstairs
in silence. On the street they separated. Ignoring
Peggy, Mr. Tebbetts held out his hand to Celia.
Good night, Miss Wycliffe, he said. Im afraid
well have to start all over again tomorrow. Your
friend has upset the rhythm we worked so hard to
establish. See you in the morning. He turned and
marched off. Peggy stood looking at his slouching
back with distaste.
I dont think he likes you very much, Celia
said.
No, Peggy agreed. I dont suppose he does.
The two friends fell into step on their way to the
tube station and home. The early evening had
suddenly turned dark with threatening rain and fog.
The street lamps had taken on a yellowish glow, and
Peggy was thankful for their presence. They crossed
their first street cautiously, peering down the
gleaming wet pavement for the sign of a car.
Come on, Celia said. Were all right.
When they reached the other side, the English girl
111

gave Peggy an inquisitive glance. What was so

important about coming tonight? she asked.
For some reason she couldnt explain, Peggy
didnt want to talk about the mysterious warning
note just then. Maybe it was the session at Mr.
Tebbetts studio or perhaps it was the encroaching
fog, but she longed for the cozy warmth of their flat
before she showed Celia the letter. Peggy quickened
her pace. Ill tell you later, she said.
My! Celia said with surprise. Youre being
awfully mysterious. She gave a nervous little laugh.
But I can wait if you can. You said it was
important?
Yes, Peggy said shortly.
Riding home jostled in the underground, she
became overpoweringly angry at Mr. Tebbetts and
all he represented. There were people like him in
every big city in the world. Small ones, too, she
guessed. Men who had absolutely no scruples, who
took advantage of girls like Celiagirls who wanted
desperately to become actresses and didnt know
how to start.
Peggy! Peggy felt a tug at her coat. For
heavens sake, Peggy, whats the matter? You look
grim as death. There was genuine alarm in Celias
voice.
Peggy shook herself and smiled over at Celia. She
realized they had ascended from the tube and were
112

crossing the street in front of the flat.

Sorry, Celia, Peggy apologized, but I
The car loomed up without warning. Its wheels
skidded on the wet street as it took the corner far too
fast, bearing down on the girls, who were less than
two feet from safety.
Peggy heard Celia scream, heard the deepthroated growl of a motor racing. Without thinking,
she caught Celia by the arm and pushed. The two
girls sprawled awkwardly forward. Suddenly Peggy
lost her balance as she stumbled over the curb.
Behind her there was a sudden rush of wind. A large
black shape thundered past them and roared on
down the street.
But before Peggy could fall, her movement was
blocked by a strong arm. A dazed Celia was being
supported by another arm.
Easy now, came a calm masculine voice.
Youre all right now. Both of you.
Despite her shock, Peggy looked up quickly. The
voice was a familiar one.

113

XI
No Explanation Given

Here, do you think you can stand by yourself

now? The voice was reassuringly warm and
sympathetic. Peggy hung on to her support for
another second and then nodded.
Im fine, she said quickly. Celia?
Yes. Everythings in place. No bones broken.
Peggy peered up to thank her rescuer and gave a
short gasp of astonishment. Randy, she cried out.
What are you doing here?
Randy smiled down at herand for one minute it
was the way it had been back in New York, before
all the misunderstandings began.
He was having dinner with me, said Tony
Barstowe, who was helping to steady Celia. He
boycotted rehearsal todayto give us a chance to
get organized. But we were going to talk things over
at dinner. I say, are you all right? Tony anxiously
interrupted himself.
Great, Celia said shortly.
114

What are you doing here? Peggy quizzed.

You sounded rather grim when you left the
theater, Tony reminded Peggy, taking Celias arm
to lead her toward the house. I wouldnt have paid
much attentionbut I suddenly remembered that
this prize idiothe nodded grimly at Celiawas
loose in the city.
Thanks, Celia said bitterly. I see youve still
got your medieval mind. Straight from the thirteenth
century, she told Randy and Peggy, who had
followed them. He believes in witchcraft, ghosts,
and curses, she declared.
You two know each other? Peggy said,
realizing she was being something less than brilliant.
It was the big mistake of my childhood, said
Celia.
Your second mistake was coming to London,
said Tony. Tell them, Randy.
I dont know whats going on, said Randy.
But someone must have a grudge against one of
you. And its not likely to be Peggy. That car that
nearly ran you down was parked at the curb almost
in front of the house. We noticed it while we were
waiting for you. The lights were out, but the engine
was idling.
Hes right, said Tony. We commented on it
wondering what Stagedoor Johnny was waiting for
Peggy tonight.
115

Did you see who it was? Celia demanded.

No, said Randy. It was too dark to see inside
the car. We barely recognized you two trying to
cross the street. But the lights a little better where
you were. Whoever it was could have recognized
you too.
We saw youTony elaborated on Randys
storyand about the same second that I recognized
Celia, I heard this engine kick up, and then this car
was bearing down on you.
Peggy and Celia exchanged frightened glances.
Wed all better go inside, Peggy said resolutely,
leading the way. I have something else to tell you.
A little later, the four of them were settled in the
sitting room with the gas fire blazing merrily and
steam rising from cups of fresh tea.
In the cheerful atmosphere, Randy, who had no
inkling of the bizarre history of the Primrose curse,
now was inclined to dismiss the motorcar incident as
an accident.
Peggy shook her head. I dont think it was an
accident, she said. Not if you two are right, and
the car actually was waiting for usor Celiato
come home. Peggy reached into her purse and took
out the letter. Look at this, she said.
Celia, sitting nearest to Peggy, took the envelope
with a mystified expression. She pulled out the
single sheet of paper and looked at it. The color
116

drained slowly out of her face. Whenwhen did

this come? she asked woodenly.
This morning, Peggy replied.
After Id gone?
Yes. I found it slipped under our door just as I
was going out.
With a quick motion, Celia crumpled the paper in
her hand. Horrid thing! she muttered.
Tony dived to retrieve it, clutching, smoothing,
and reading it all in one quick, nervous motion.
Wordlessly, he passed the note to Randy.
You are going back to Primrose Manor tonight,
Tony announced.
Listen to him, Celia said sarcastically, her
antagonism to Tony somehow transmuting her
former fear into anger.
What is this all about? Randy asked quietly. It
reads like Sherlock Holmes. But that car wasnt part
of any script. Someone tell me whats going on.
Tony glanced at Celia, who looked daggers at
him before she turned to smile warmly at Randy. It
does sound like something out of a Victorian horror
novel, doesnt it? Celia agreed. But it all makes
sense. Would you like another cup of tea? she
asked conversationally.
Randy nodded, as Tony groaned. Brainless girl,
he muttered. And with a rush of words, Tony told
Randy a shortened version of the tale of the House
117

of Primrose, the same story that the old rector had

recited to Peggy. Tony knew all the salient facts,
even down to the details of the missing coronet.
And you say that lights are appearing in the
Abbey? Randy asked when Tony had finished.
Ive seen them myself, said Peggy.
What do they look like? Randy and Tony
demanded almost in unison.
They just appear a minute or two, Peggy said.
And then go out.
How many people know about this story?
Randy demanded.
Oh, heaps, Celia said. Certainly everyone in
the village and in other places as well.
Ive heard of Primrose Abbey, of course,
Randy said musingly. And now that youve briefed
me, I remember the story about the performance of
Romeo and Juliet. Youre part of the Primrose
family? he asked Celia with interest.
Yes, said Celia. Just about the last of it.
But what about your name? Randy demanded.
Its Wycliffe.
The last honest-to-goodness Primroses were
Aunt Agatha, my mother, and their brotherthe one
who was killed in the war.
The one who took part in the skit at
Cambridge?
Celia nodded. Thats the one. My mother was
118

Aunt Agathas sister. Both my parents were killed in

a car accident when I was little. Celia laughed
nervously. At least they werent done in by the
curse. They felt about the stage the same way that
Aunt Agatha does.
I see, said Randy. And your aunt brought you
up?
Celia nodded, as Tony began to answer, then
abruptly cut off his words.
What about the title? What happened to that?
Oh, that died out a long time ago. The branch of
the family that held the earldom came to an end
about a hundred years ago. The title, of course, was
held in entail, even though the property went to next
of kin.
What does that mean? Peggy interposed.
Entail? Tony answered for Celia. There are all
sorts. But generally it means that ownership passes
from one member of a family to the next and cant
be sold or left to anybody else.
Celia nodded, sipping her tea. Tonys right, she
said. They were the first agreeable words that Peggy
had heard Celia speak to or about Tony.
In England, Tony continued, most of the lands
and nearly all the titles originally were given by the
Crown to be kept in entail. My cousin, for example,
has a great gloomy place up in Northumberland. The
land and all the houses are entailed. Under the law,
119

he cant sell them. Hed love to get rid of them, but

hes stuck. Hes got to hand them down to the male
next of kinwhich happens to be me. Since he
doesnt like me, hes doubly bitter that he cant sell,
and enjoy himself on the money. Tony reported the
fact with a good-humored smile.
What happens if there arent any heirs? Randy
asked.
The land reverts to the Crown, replied Tony.
Thats what happened to the Primrose title?
questioned Peggy.
Tony nodded, and for a second Peggy puzzled
again over Tonys intimate knowledge of the
Primrose family history.
And the land? prompted Randy.
It wasnt entailed, said Celia. It belongs to
Aunt Agatha now.
And eventually to you, Tony reminded her.
Celia shrugged. Ive never thought of it one way
or the other. But I suppose it does.
Youre an heiress, Randy said jokingly.
Celia gave a wry look. The place is a white
elephant. What with taxes and upkeep, its
frightfully expensive. I dearly love Primrose Abbey,
but if I ever own it, I expect Ill have to sell it. I
wouldnt know how to run a place like that.
I told you began Tony, but again he cut off
his words. With a little shrug, he turned his back on
120

the others and stared moodily into the fire.

Have you ever talked about this to anyone?
Randy asked Celia.
You mean about selling? I suppose so.
Well, then, Randy said eagerly. Now were
getting someplace.
How do you mean? asked Peggy.
Thats a possible motive for getting Celia out of
the way, Randy pointed out.
Celia looked bewildered. Who on earth would
want to prevent me from getting rid of the Abbey?
The only person I can think of is Aunt Agatha, and
she owns it for as long as she lives.
A missing cousin, perhaps? Randy suggested.
Some black sheep who went out to Australia and is
back now, waiting around for the inheritance to fall
into his lap?
Peggy shook her head. Why pick on Celia first?
I should think Aunt Agatha would make a far better
target.
Its a puzzle, Randy admitted.
Im glad of one thing, Celia said suddenly. At
least youre not seriously considering the curse.
Randy tapped the note significantly. Ghosts
dont write notes, he said.
The three of them looked at one another in
silence. Tony still stared into the fire, brooding.
Well, said Peggy, what do we do now?
121

Be careful, said Randy. Be as careful as

possible.
Celia should go back to Primrose Manor, Tony
said fiercely, whirling to face them. She has no
business in London. And she has no business in the
theater.
He believes in the return of the Black Death, and
he thinks the three witches in Macbeth actually
existed, Celia muttered. It all began when he
worked on those medieval mystery plays for the
York Festival last summer.
Even Randy now was glancing from Celia to
Tony, his eyes betraying his curiosity at the peculiar
tension that existed between those two.
Tony, Randy said slowly, this note can be
only one of three thingseither its the work of a
ghost, the stunt of a practical joker, or a real threat.
Now I dont believe in ghosts, so that leaves only
two possibilities. He looked from Tony to Celia.
If one of my friends is being funny, theres no
particular danger, is there? said Celia.
And just suppose its a real threat, suggested
Tony. Do you think you can imagine that much?
he asked sarcastically.
I cant believe it, said Celia, talking to Peggy
and Randy, and ignoring Tony. I dont feel
threatened. And I cant think of any reason why
someone would want me out of the way.
122

But the car! Tony protested.

The old stubborn look came into Celias face.
No, she said, shaking her head. We dont have
any proof that the car and the note are related. We
think they are, but that may be because were all so
on edge, and its a foggy night andoh, I dont
know what. But I do know Im going right on with
Mr. Tebbetts. Im not going home.
With whom? Tony shouted.
Ernest Tebbetts. Mr. Tebbetts thinks I have real
talent! Celia shouted back at Tony.
Tony groaned. Of all the stupid And again he
turned his back on the group.
Do you know Ernest Tebbetts? Peggy
demanded. Do you know anything about the
Dynamic Art Studio?
Is that what he calls his racket now? Tony
inquired.
You know him? Peggy prompted.
Tony turned around. Yes, he said. And so does
everybody else in the theater in London.
Randy caught Peggys eye, silently asking for
information. She shook her head, signaling him not
to ask questions.
Perhaps, Peggy said softly, appealing to Tony,
Celia could get a little stage experience as a walkon in Come Closer? That way she wouldnt be
studying with Mr. Tebbetts.
123

No! Tony barked the word. I wont have it.

Why not? Randy asked, taking his cue from the
fact that this was Peggys suggestion. There are a
couple of walk-ons for maids at the resort. You
surely cant have worked out every detail of the
production yet.
I wont have any rank amateurs ruining my
show, Tony said firmly.
Oh, come on now, Barstowe, Randy protested.
Everyones an amateur until hes had experience.
No, Tony said fiercely.
But Randy, ignoring Tony, smiled first at Peggy,
then Celia. You bring her along tomorrow, he told
Peggy. Meanwhile, Ill speak to the director of this
show, he said, talking about Tony as if Tony
werent there.
Tony merely gave Celia a black look as the boys
picked up their coats, ready to leave.
At the door, Tony turned. Peggy, he said,
Celia hasnt got any sense. So I leave the situation
to your judgment. I would like to remind you, he
added grimly, that whenever one of the Primrose
family was struck down, the person he was with
suffered the same fate.

124

XII
A Special Audition

Peggy looked at Celia out of the corner of her eye.

The English girl seemed to feel none of the awe
which Peggy had experienced when she first walked
into the empty auditorium of the Coronet Theater.
Its interesting, said Celia, glancing at the rows
of deserted seats. Ive never been in an empty
theater before, she chattered. Do you suppose Ill
get the part? she asked Peggy, apparently expecting
no answer, as she continued brightly, Maybe if
Randy likes me, hell give me some lines. Ive heard
of that happening. If someone does a good job, her
part gets built up.
Peggy refrained from answering. The confidence
of the English girl, who, with no stage experience,
was perfectly willing to have as large a part as she
might possibly manage to get in a London
production seemed unbelievable to Peggy. In
another person, Peggy would have assigned the
confidence to a colossal ego, but she knew that it
125

was merely innocenceand she hated to admit it

but also ignorance in Celia. Tony, although he
cruelly exaggerated when he called Celia
brainless, wasnt too mistaken if she neglected to
make distinctions between lack of experience and
lack of ability to learn. Well, possibly, Celia would
learn.
Most of the cast had assembled as Peggy and
Celia approached the apron, and Peggy greeted her
colleagues, introducing Celia to Sibyl, Ron
Standish, Jack Higgins, and one or two others.
Randy and Tony appeared from backstage while
Celia was still explaining to an astonished, but
wordless Sibyl Cranton her aspirations to make a
name for herself in Come Closer.
Randy apparently already had met the cast, as
without preliminaries, Ron Standish began to give
directions to begin the days readings. Catching
sight of Celia, Tony interrupted him. We have an
audition this morning, he announced to the group.
It shouldnt take long, so if youll all please find
seats, well get this over with.
Randy, who had come over to speak with Peggy
and Celia, muttered, I really dont know what
brings this out in Barstowe. Hes usually a pretty
decent guy.
CeliaMiss Wycliffe, called Tony, who was
still on the stage, which role would you like to
126

read? Alison, the star? The parts cast, but you

apparently want to begin at the top.
He doesnt need to do that, Randy protested to
Peggy. Let her read Peggys role, Randy called
sharply to Tony.
But both Tony and Celia ignored everyone else as
they played out their private drama. I dont mind if
I do, Celia called back in response to Tonys offer
that she read the part of Alison.
Peggy, finding a seat, as Celia made her way
backstage, cringed inwardly. Of all the roles in the
play, that of Alison, to be played by Sibyl Cranton,
was the most difficult. Paula Andrews, who had
grown up with acting and with extensive theater
training, had played the role in New York. Even
Peggy herself would have hesitated to attempt it
with only her current experience. Maybe in a year or
two, but not now.
Yet, here was Tony suggesting that Celia, who
had no experiencenot even school playsread the
part. Tony, Peggy decided, could be a beast. And
Celia seemed to bring it out in him. Suddenly,
Peggy remembered Tonys statement that he was a
misogynist. She could almost believe it at this
moment.
Celia appeared from the left stage wing, stepped
into the glare of the single working light, blinked,
then bent to talk to Ron Standish, who apparently
127

was going to read the scene with her.

What scene do you want? Standish called down
to Tony.
Act Two, Scene Three, Tony called back.
Oh dear, Peggy muttered to Randy, who had
taken a seat next to her. He would pick the hardest
scene in the play.
It doesnt matter, said Randy. I dont know
whats going on between those two, but something
is. Well, the only thing that counts this morning is to
make sure that Celia can move all right onstage. If
she can just be unobtrusive and walk decently, well
put her in one of the walk-on parts. At least, itll get
her out of the hands of Tebbetts. Tony told me about
him last night.
Do you honestly think Tony believes in the
curse? Peggy asked, feeling warm and good that
she and Randy once more were discussing casts and
cast problemsjust like during the happy days at
the Penthouse Theater.
Who knows? said Randy. Tonys brilliant.
Theres no question about that. But there are
things
I see him as Lord Byron, Peggy confided.
And like all women, you have a crush on Lord
Byron, Randy teased.
Before Peggy could reply, Celia, who had been
given a script and some hurried directions by Bon
128

Standish, made her entrance. She literally swept

onto the stage!
The role of Alison, which she was reading, was
almost hopelessly complicated. The other characters
were difficult because of their double or triple points
of view. The leading role was almost impossible. It
had no point of view at all, and every point of view
imaginable.
The scene Tony had chosen for the audition
brought most of the main characters together during
a time of crisis. The actress playing Alison had to
change her diction and personality repeatedly as she
responded to the changing manners and personalities
of the other characters. In the hands of an inspired
actresslike Paula Andrews or Sibyl Cranton
Alison, responding to the quickening pace of those
about her, moves from eagerness to fear, from terror
to hysteria as the characters around her shift as
swiftly as the pieces in a kaleidoscope.
Celia, sent backstage to make her entrance as
Alison, had swept onto the stage with all the regal
majesty of a Lady Macbeth. A hush settled over the
theater, and Peggy felt herself become nervous with
embarrassment. She glanced over at Tony Barstowe.
He was sitting straight in his chair, his hands
gripping the arms.
Suddenly, Peggy was distracted by a wailing
noise from the stage. Startled, she turned around to
129

see Celia shouting with heavy anger.

No, she screamed. No, no, no! I wont
stand for it. She rolled her eyes over at Ron
Standish, who was standing as if transfixed on his
side of the stage. It was his cue to speak, and finally
he brought the script up quickly and read.

130

 What on earth is the matter? he intoned.

Youve been avoiding me! Celia moaned.
I wont stand for it.
Before Ron Standish had a chance to reply, Tony
Barstowe was on his feet. Miss Wycliffe, he said
savagely, not Lady Macbeth, please. This is girlish
flirtation, not the black anger of murder.
Celia looked darkly at him and started again. This
time, she flounced around the stage like a
mechanical doll. Peggy felt herself shrivel up as she
watched her friends performance. Strange, she
reflected, that Celia, who was such a natural person,
full of vitality, and with an easygoing manner, was
so stiff and uncontrolled on stage. The alarming
truth slowly began to dawn that Celia would never
be an actress.
Peggy stole a look at Tony Barstowe. He was
slumped in his chair, his head buried in his hands.
The performance was too painful for him to watch.
Peggy stared back at the stage. She knew it was
possible to give a bad reading and still have the
talent to achieve success on the stage. But this was
more than a bad reading. Peggy had seen girls in
high school who had no aspirations for professional
careers do much more competent jobs than Celia
was doing.
The scene dragged on. Tony was either too
stunned by what he was seeing to stop it, or else he
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maliciously wanted to punish Celia for being there

at all. Finally, when Celia finished, the theater
seemed to heave a sigh of relief.
Thank you, Miss Wycliffe, Tony said
mechanically.
Celia returned the script to the stage manager, and
a few minutes later came back into the auditorium.
Her eyes were bright and shining. She walked up to
Peggy, smiling happily. I wish Mr. Tebbetts had
been here to see that, she said. That really felt
good.
Peggy didnt know what to say. It was worse than
she thought. Celia actually believed that she had
done a good job. Fortunately, she was spared the
necessity of replying just then for Celia babbled on.
Wont it be fun, she cried. Acting in the same
play!
Peggy almost groaned aloud. What was she ever
going to say! Dont count on it, she finally
brought out. Nothings ever certain in the theater.
And Tony seems determined you arent going to act.
He has some say in the matter.
The blow, when it came, was delivered by Randy,
who was nervous and ill-at-ease. Dont feel too
discouraged, he told her gently, but Tony and I
feel you need a little more seasoning before you
actually appear in a professional production.
At first, Celia didnt seem to understand. You
132

mean, I cant even do the maid? she asked

uncertainly.
Randy fidgeted with the script in his hand. Well,
actually, Tonys trying to cut production costs and
hes going to have one or two of the bit players and
understudies double in the walk-on parts, he said.
Tony! Celia repeated bitterly. I might have
known. Gathering her things, she started up the
aisle. Ill see you tonight, Peggy, she said in a
curiously muffled voice.
Peggy started to go after her, but Tony, who had
walked over in time to hear the tag end of the
exchange, put out his hand. Dont go after her, he
said. Shes too hurt and upset.
Peggy, denied the solace of trying to comfort
Celia, turned on Tony. As if you cared! she flung
at him.
I do care, Tony said gently. Blast! he said,
suddenly savage. What a beastly thing to have to
do to a person.
Why did you do it? Peggy demanded angrily.
Peggy, Tony protested, defending himself, I
didnt do it. I didnt invite Celia here. I didnt
encourage her to audition. I know Celia cant act. I
told her that last summer. Thats why she hates me.

133

XIII
ReconciliationAlmost

Randy, miracle of miracles, walked Peggy to the

underground that evening after the days rehearsal,
then decided hed ride home with her, and finally
persuaded Peggywho wasnt at all reluctantto
leave the tube two stops from her regular one and
walk the rest of the way with him, just because the
evening was so fine. To Peggy, who had seen so
little of Randy all these long weeks, it was good just
to have him by her side again. There was no point in
fooling herself: She had missed Randy Brewster.
She wasnt going to wear her heart on her sleeve.
But she couldnt help rejoicing to hear the old,
teasing Randy needling her a little about the days
work at the theater, talking excitedly about a new
play, confiding eagerly that hed received unofficial
word that his third play, the one now open in New
York, mightjust mightbe invited to represent
the United States at the Thtre des Nations in Paris.
Even being considered for an invitation was an
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honor.
Finally, as always, talk reverted to the play now
in rehearsal, and to the mornings incident. Shes
such a plucky girl, Randy said admiringly. Thats
what I like about her. Determined to go right on in
spite ofeverything.
By everything Peggy knew that Randy meant
the threat that was hanging over Celia. She looked at
Randy and forced a smile. You seem quite fond of
her.
I am, Randy said simply. You know, shes an
awfully good friend of Mal Seton. They grew up
together or something. He asked me to see if I could
help her get started in the theater. But he really
should have told me about the curse, and the fact
that she has absolutely no talent.
Maybe he didnt know, Peggy said hesitantly.
About the curse? Of course he knew, Randy
said emphatically. Everyone in Englands at least
heard about it. And certainly anyone whos in the
theater or knows Celia. But he probably didnt know
shes un-suited to acting.
You think its hopeless? Peggy inquired.
Peggy! Randy protested. You saw it this
morning!
Well, Ive been wrong before, said Peggy. And
suddenly the words werent about Celiabut about
Hollywood and publicity dates with Doug Taylor.
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Hmmm, said Randy, watching her.

Ive made mistakes, Peggy said shyly. So
maybe Im wrong about Celia, she added, trying to
bring the conversation back to its starting point.
Do you have some wrong ideas about Celia?
Randy asked. And Peggy knew that Randys
question went deeper than the words. As in the past,
when something became too painful to discuss
directly, they discussed something elsebut still
worked out the real problem between them.
Do I? said Peggy.
The right idea, said Randy, stopping and lifting
Peggy upon a ledge, then climbing up himself, so
that they sat there like two children, swinging their
feet, the right idea is that Celias a sweet kid and a
friend of a friend. We should try to figure out some
way to help her.
Relieved and happy, Peggy smiled directly into
Randys eyes, then shyly ducked her head.
Come on, little one, said Randy, smiling just as
happily as he lifted her down from the ledge, its
time to take you home. I think weve solved the
major problems of the world, so now if we can just
figure out something to do about Celia . . .
And once again, Peggy knew that everything was
all right between them.
The enchantment of the reconciliation lasted
136

exactly the time that it took Randy to walk Peggy

the rest of the way home, escort her up five flights
of stairs, and accept her breathless invitation to have
a cup of tea.
The minute she opened the door, Celia, who had
the gas fire blazing cheerfully, greeted her with the
announcement that Kurt Werner had been trying to
reach her from Edinburgh!
The only happy thing about the eveningRandy
had excused himself almost immediately, saying he
knew she had a telephone call to placewas that
Celia had returned to her normally cheerful self. She
questioned Peggy eagerly about the details of the
days rehearsal, seeming to take a greater interest in
the play now that she had seen the theater and the
cast.
Tony Barstowes lucky hes got you, she said
with just a trace of bitterness. He doesnt deserve
you.
Peggy looked at Celia, puzzled. Why do you say
that?
Celia shrugged. Well, look what he did to me,
she replied. I told Mr. Tebbetts about the audition,
and he blamed it all on Tony.
Peggy shook her head in confusion.
There are some people, Celia explained stiffly,
who simply cannot feel the projections an actress
137

sends out. Tony Barstowe, being a somewhat limited

person, didnt appreciate my performance.
What about me? Peggy asked, just for the
record.
Oh, nothing against you, Celia said,
misunderstanding the question. He just has a
natural understanding for the kind of thing you do.
As Mr. Tebbetts explained it, Im trying to do
something different, and, at first, its always a little
difficult.
Then youre going on with Mr. Tebbetts?
Certainly, Celia replied. If Tony Barstowes
kind of theater doesnt want me, then I have no
alternative but to continue with Mr. Tebbetts.
Peggy started to protest, but checked herself. She
knew that Celia was going through a trying period.
The rejection that morning had been a blow, and
going back to the Dynamic Art Studio had been a
sort of solace. She was welcome there. She certainly
was, Peggy thought to herself grimly. She was
welcome because she paid Mr. Tebbetts money.
But Peggy judged the time was not ripe for a long
heart-to-heart talk with Celia.
And in the days that followed there didnt seem to
be any suitable occasion. Celia continued to study at
the studio while Peggy went into long hours of
rehearsal. As always, Peggy was completely
absorbed by her work, still amazed at the way a play
138

emerged as a living experience under the skilled

hands of an imaginative director and a cast of
talented actors.
English actors, she found, generally had a higher
degree of technical polish than their American
counterparts. They also seemed more detached about
their work. Not that they lacked enthusiasm. The
theater was a profession to which they devoted their
full energies during working hours. But they seldom
stayed around the theater after rehearsals to talk
shop. Each had his or her outside interests that had
nothing to do with the theater.
In all this, Peggy was an exception. She had come
to England to get to know the English theater and
she was determined not to let a single opportunity
slip by. She announced her intention of seeing as
many plays as possible and asked Celia to map out a
plan for taking in all the shows. Celia was surprised.
But you dont need any plan, she protested.
Just go whenever the mood strikes you. Nip around
to the box office the day you want to see a show and
pick up your tickets.
Peggy reacted with equal astonishment. You
mean its as easy as that?
Of course, Celia assured her. Why, what do
you do in New York?
Oh, we have to plan ahead for weeks, Peggy
said. Sometimes for months if the play is a really
139

big hit. Tickets are awfully hard to get.

You can get seats for most plays here without
much trouble, Celia told her. There are
exceptions, of course. But I wouldnt worry about it
too much.
And Celia was right. Not only were tickets easy
to get, but they were surprisingly inexpensive
compared to Broadway standards. There were one or
two other differences, Peggy found, as she became a
habitual theatergoer. Curtain time in London
playhouses was usually earlier than in New York.
Peggy rather liked that. It meant she was home
before eleven. She was familiar with a surprising
number of plays currently filling the stages of
Londons West Endthe theater district of the city.
These were plays that had been successes in New
York and had sent over a second company. She
found some old friends she hadnt seen for months
and spent several evenings renewing acquaintances
and meeting performers who were active in the
English theater.
She grew to respect them enormously. Like Sibyl
Cranton and Jack Higgins, they were perfectionists.
Every movement had to be just right and they would
go over a line or a sequence time and time again to
make certain they achieved the precise shade of
meaning they wanted.
Rehearsals somehow seemed to move at a less
140

hectic pace in London than they did in New York.

But because everyone knew exactly what he was
trying to accomplish, work forged steadily ahead.
Peggy once asked Sibyl Cranton why English actors
seemed so confident of themselves, why they carried
themselves with such supreme ease.
I think, the English actress replied, its
because of our repertory system. You dont have
anything like it in the States. You see, here in
England, if a young person wants to go on the stage,
he usually joins a company that tours the provinces
playing the classicsShakespeare, the plays of the
Restoration, and so forth. By the time hes been in
the theater for five years, hes played literally
hundreds of partsin front of live and quite
frequently critical audiences. You dont get much
chance for that sort of thing in your country. After
all that experience, a person really knows what sort
of part he can play best. Then he concentrates on
those parts and builds them up.
Peggy understood. Every day she learned more,
and every day she wondered more why Celia
continued to attend Mr. Tebbetts classes. Celia, on
her part, never came to the theater. Randy, of course,
asked about her, and occasionally he put in a brief
appearance at the flat to take Celia out. Peggy
wasnt jealous any moreonly sad that everything
seemed to conspire to give Randy all the wrong
141

ideas about her. Kurt had been telephoning that

night to find out if rehearsals were going well and if
the play would open on schedule. There never had
been any opportunity to explain anything to
Randynot that Peggy knew what there was to
explain.
Peggy didnt know how Randy spent his time. He
didnt come to the theater very often as there really
was little for him to do. Come Closer had been a
success in New York, and it did not need rewriting.
Once or twice, Peggy wondered why Randy stayed
in London. Probably a combination of wanting to
attend the London premire, enjoying the city, and
because his work was going well. Peggy suspected
that Randy must be writing his new playhe
seemed to be able to work anywhereand that as
long as the work went well he wouldnt interrupt it
just to cross a mere ocean.
The Friday evening at the end of the second week
of rehearsals, Randy was at the theater as Ron
Standish dismissed the cast. Randy was taking Celia
to dinner, and he invited Tony to join them. Tony,
who already had invited Peggy to dine with him,
accepted before he realized that Randys invitation
meant that Celia would be a member of the party.
Randy, when he invited Tony, of course hadnt
known about Tonys date with Peggy. But
invitations once accepted cant be rejected. So the
142

three of them piled into Tonys little car to go by the

flat to pick up Celia. Its going to be a wild dinner,
Peggy thought, with cross-currents of emotion
meeting cross-currents of emotion. She decided she
was glad she was hungry and could simply
concentrate on eating.
Climbing the stairs of the old Tudor house, Tony
commented on the quiet in the halls. The place
seems deserted, he observed.
Celia said shed be here, Randy remarked.
Halfway up, Peggy stopped short. A heavy odor
had penetrated the stairway. Do you smell that?
she asked anxiously.
Its gas! Tonys voice was worried.
It sure is, Randy said, beginning to take the
steps two at a time. Its gas, and lots of it.
Where is it coming from? said Tony, increasing
his own pace.
Im not sure, said Peggy, also hurrying.
Your flat! Tony shouted.
Peggy and Randy began to run, but Tony, like a
madman, shouldered his way past them. Celia! he
shouted.
Tony turned the handle of the door and threw it
open. Peggy, a few steps behind him, involuntarily
stepped back as the overpowering odor of escaping
gas billowed out through the landing. Tony held his
handkerchief over his face as he stumbled through
143

the entrance.
You stay here! Randy commanded Peggy as he
followed Tony into the flat.
Disobeying Randy but keeping her own nose and
mouth muffled by her coat, Peggy followed them
and cried out in horror. In the middle of the gasfilled sitting room, stretched out on the sofa,
sprawled Celia. Her head was thrown back, and one
hand lay limply on the floor.

144

XIV
One Secret Unfolded

Without breaking his stride, Tony dashed over to the

windows and threw them open.
Wheres the valve? Randy shouted to Peggy.
Peggy ran to the fireplace, and Randy helped her
to turn off the gas. As Peggy turned around, she saw
that Tony was carrying Celia gently into the
bedroom. Not so much gas in here, he explained.
Will you get the windows? he asked Randy.
Randy forced the bedroom windows open, as
Peggy, peering anxiously at Celias limp form,
asked nervously, How is she? Should Randy go for
a doctor?
Shell be all right, Tony declared in a flat voice.
Look at this. In his hand, he held a piece of paper,
very much like the one Peggy had found underneath
the door. On it was printed the familiar message:
BEWARE THE PRIMROSE CURSE!

The three of them looked at each other wordlessly

and then, as if by common consent, turned to Celia.
145

The English girl was moaning slightly. Tony stuffed

the paper in his pocket and bent over her.
Celia! he called gently. Celia! Can you hear
me?
Celias eyelashes fluttered, and her head moved.
Suddenly, Randys head jerked up. He held a
warning finger against his mouth. Startled, Peggy
and Tony turned toward the door just in time to see
the slightly ruffled figure of Nigel Clapham standing
on the threshold. Nigel stared at them wildly and
trotted over to the bed where he fell on his knees
beside Celia, who was now reviving.
Celia! he crooned. My dear Celia! What
happened? He raised his stricken face to Peggy. Is
she all right?
I think so, Peggy replied. What are you doing
here?
I came to London on business and decided to
visit Celia. As I came up the stairs, I smelled gas and
I saw the door was open.
Hello, Nigel, Tony said unexpectedly.
Startled, Nigel Clapham wheeled around. Tony
Barstowe! he cried. I didnt expect to see you
here.
I dont suppose you did, Tony said dryly.
Whos that? Nigel demanded suspiciously,
pointing to Randy.
Dutifully, Tony introduced Nigel, explaining to
146

Peggy and Randy, Nigel and I were at Cambridge

together.
Celia moaned, and Nigel reached over and took
her hand. My poor darling, he said in a troubled
voice.
What right have Randy broke off and
stepped back.
Youerseem to know Celia quite well,
Tony said quietly.
Nigel looked up in surprise. Hasnt she told
you? he said. As a matter of fact, I have hopes that
someday Celia and I He shook his head. If only
I can get her back to Primrose Abbey.
I think thats an excellent idea, Peggy declared.
Nigel seized eagerly on Peggys support. I have
my car downstairs. I can have her in the country in
no time.
Well come with you, Tony said, reaching to
lift Celia up.
Sorry, old man, but theres not room, Nigel
replied, moving around to block Tony.
Tony straightened and frowned. Look here,
Nigel, he said quietly, this isnt the time to lock
horns over Celia. The first thing is to get her
comfortable. Id drive her myself except there isnt
room in my car for her to lie down if Peggy and
Randy come too. And I want someone with her
while Im driving.
147

At that moment, Peggy felt a great liking for

Tony Barstowe, but before she could back him up,
Celia opened her eyes.
Oh, she groaned. I feel dreadful.
Tony grinned down at her. I shouldnt wonder,
he said. The gas was pretty thick.
Celias eyes widened, and she tried to sit up.
Gas! she cried. What do you mean?
You forgot to light the fire after you dropped the
coin in the slot to turn on the gas.
Celia looked bewildered. But I didnt start the
gas.
You didnt? A grim fine appeared on Tonys
face.
No, Celia said emphatically.
Tony glanced at Peggy and Randy, then looked
back to Celia. Well, never mind about that now,
he said. Nigel wants to take you to the country. I
think its a good idea. Peggy can ride with you, and
Randy and I will follow in my carto see that
everythings all right and to bring Peggy back.
Nigel! Whats he doing here? Celias head
shifted on the pillow.
Hello, Celia, Nigel purred, sitting down beside
her. I came to visit you this evening and found you
like this.
You found me!
No, Peggy said. We did. Tony and Randy and
148

I.
Nigel reached out and took Celias hand. Do you
feel strong enough to walk? he asked.
Celia removed her hand and began to sit up. Let
me try. She edged herself over to the side of the
bed and then lifted herself to a standing position.
She shook her head and swayed slightly. Ooh, Im
dizzy, she murmured. Peggy noticed that she
instinctively reached out to Tony for support.
Easy now, Celia, Tony said, leading her gently
to the door.
Im sorry to be such a
Dont talk nonsense, Tony said.
Wordlessly, Peggy went to the closet, found
Celias coat, and an extra blanket.
Minutes later, they lowered Celia into the rear
seat of Nigels car. Nigel hurried around to the
drivers side. Cant you drive me? Celia murmured
to Tony, who was tucking the blanket around her.
Well be right behind you, he soothed her. I
want Randy to come alongfor a special reason.
Drowsily, Celia nodded her head. Dont go to
sleep again, Tony cautioned her, turning to instruct
Peggy to watch that Celia stayed awake.
Thanks for the help, Barstowe, said Nigel,
jerking open his door. I can manage now.
Celia sat up. I want Peggy, she cried.
Nigel paused and looked at her dubiously. I
149

dont think Aunt Agatha would approve, my dear.

Wordlessly, Celia turned to Tony with a pleading
look.
Peggy goes, Tony announced tersely, almost
lifting Peggy into the car. Better get started, he
ordered Nigel as he closed the car door.
Flushing angrily, Nigel Clapham slid behind the
wheel.
Were right behind you, Randy called to Peggy.
The drive to the Abbey in Nigels car was a silent
affair. Nigel drove quickly and expertly, making the
trip in good time. The fresh air did a great deal to
revive Celia, but even so she was pale and wan
when they arrived.
Fortunately, the household still was awake. Aunt
Agatha received the news with outward calm and
immediately dispatched Jenkins for the local doctor.
Mrs. Puncheon was sent upstairs to prepare Celias
room. After awkwardly saying good night, Nigel
Clapham disappeared, a move which surprised
Peggy as he had a perfect excuse to remain.
After the doctor left, pronouncing Celia in no
danger but in need of a good nights sleep, Agatha
Primrose summoned Peggy, Randy, and Tony.
Please sit down, she said graciously, indicating
a comfortable sofa by the drawing room fire. Ive
asked Mrs. Puncheon to bring in some sandwiches. I
wish I could offer you more, but we didnt expect
150

company.
Thats very kind of you, Miss Primrose, Tony
acknowledged.
Agatha Primrose arranged herself carefully in a
straight chair and addressed Peggy. My dear, she
began, can you tell me what happened?
Peggy explained the circumstances as quickly as
she could. Aunt Agatha, whose face seemed tired
and old beside the flickering fire, nodded.
I see, she said when Peggy had finished. Do
you think it was just carelessness on Celias part?
Peggy hesitated. Its hard to say, she replied,
glancing at Tony, who had the note. Celia claims
she didnt start the gas.
Aunt Agatha looked surprised. Well, someone
must have done it, she said. She stared at the young
people searchingly. Tell me something, she said
after a brief pause. Does Celia show any promise in
her chosen career? I understand the theater is a most
demanding profession and that many who sincerely
believe they have talent are misguided. I should not
like to see Celia waste her life in a stubborn attempt
to succeed in an enterprise where there is not the
remotest possibility of her achieving recognition.
Under Miss Primroses direct questioning, first
Peggy and then Randy shifted uncomfortably in
their chairs. Its not always possible to tell, Randy
began.
151

Aunt Agatha lifted a weary hand in protest. You

are polite, she said to Randy. Come, Mr.
Barstowe, I realize the element of chance plays a
significant role in the theater, but what I am seeking
is your professional opinion. I understand from
she hesitated from friends at York that you have
a reputation in the theater; she finished bravely.
Peggy looked at Randy, puzzled while Tony
stared at the floor for a moment. Frankly, he said,
meeting Aunt Agathas glance squarely, I think
your niece is wasting her time.
The older woman seemed to relax. She looked
expectantly around the little circle, focusing her
gaze on Peggy. Is this your opinion too? she
asked.
Miserable, Peggy nodded.
And you, Mr. Brewster?
Silent, Randy nodded.
And have you told her this? she asked, still
looking at Randy. Randy shook his head reluctantly.
Aunt Agatha shifted her gaze to Peggy.
No, Peggy replied in answer to the unspoken
question.
Aunt Agathas back stiffened. Do you think that
is quite charitable? Her tone was touched with
asperity.
Miss Primrose, Peggy said quickly, do you
think we enjoy seeing Celia make a spectacle of
152

herself? Were all extremely fond of her. But my

goodness, you know Celia. You know how stubborn
she is once she gets an idea in her head. The theater
is something she has her heart set on.
I told her, Tony announced unexpectedly. I
told her last summerat the festival.
Aunt Agatha looked eagerly to Tony. Mr.
Barstowe, she began, forgive me, but would it be
too distressingwould you object She spoke
hesitantly, and Peggy realized with a sigh that Tony
was in for the same questioning that she herself had
gone through on her first visit to Primrose Manor.
Aunt Agatha did pry into Celias affairs, there was
no getting around that.
All right, said Tony, squaring his shoulders.
Celia and I met last summer. You seem to know
that. Wehe hesitatedwe came to care about
one another, he continued quietly. At first, the big
problem seemed to be how Celia was going to tell
you she wanted to marrysomeone in the theater.
Aunt Agatha flinched as he pronounced the
words.
But the real problem, he said, still speaking
quietly, was that Celiasecretlywanted to be in
the theater herself. She didnt tell me at first, but
gradually it became obvious. It also became
obvious, he said bitterly, that she has absolutely
no talent. She couldnt even do a competent job of
153

the really elementary acting required in the mystery

plays. He studied the older womans face.
Suddenly, Peggy knew what Tony was talking
about, what he and Celia had been talking about
with those references to York, and witchcraft, and
the Black Death. They must have worked together in
the world-famous York Cycle of Mystery Plays!
Hastily, Peggy tried to recall everything she knew
about the York Festival. The plays themselves, she
remembered from her theater history classes,
originated about 1350 and had been staged by the
medieval guilds of the city. The productions had
been presented every Corpus Christi Day for about
two centuries, until the archbishop ruled that the text
of the plays contained unreformed doctrine and
ordered them suppressed. All copies of the
manuscripts had been confiscated, but one had
survived and, having passed through many hands,
now reposed in the British Museum.
The playsthere were forty-eight in the complete
cycletold the story of man from the Creation of
the World until the Last Judgment with a poetic
beauty and grandeur of conception which placed
them in the first rank of English literature and
drama. Peggy remembered the plays had been
translated from Middle English by a modern scholar,
who had made the educated guess that they
originally were the work of a Benedictine monk at
154

St. Marys Abbey in the historic old city of York.

Peggy knew that the modern reenactment of the
plays, dating from the 1951 Festival of Britain,
again was sponsored by the townspeople of York
with the aid of a few professional theater people.
Citizens of the two-thousand-year-old city took most
of the roles in the plays. Celia, Peggy decided
swiftly, must have become involved with the festival
as a citizen, while Tony must have been among
the professional staff imported from London.
But now Agatha Primroses voice broke the little
silence that had followed Tonys revelation. I knew
she was in the plays, Aunt Agatha said quietly.
But I regarded them asmore in the nature of
divine worship than theater. They began in the
churches, she said.
Thats true, said Tony. Is that why you
permitted her to stay in York?
Good heavens, said Aunt Agatha reproachfully,
I am not my nieces jailer. I want nothing more
than for her to be happy. Would you tell me one
more thing? she pleaded. Tony didnt answer, and
Aunt Agatha continued. What happened in the
end?
First, said Tony, I pretended Celia should stay
out of theaters because of the curse. I simply didnt
have the courage to tell her that she was making a
fool of herself to even try acting. But she was
155

determined, he said, and she began to be angry

with me. We quarreled a lot, he admitted, and
always the quarrels were somehow related to this
desire of Celias to be in the theater. Finally, I told
her she just didnt have the ability. It was as though
Id slapped her in the face, he said, obviously still
shaken by the memory. But do you know what?
She didnt believe me. She didnt want to believe
me. She pretendedshe told herself that I were
merely superstitious and was using this as the means
to keep her off the stage. We had one really dreadful
quarrelthe last one, said Tony. Shed been
staying with the Greenes and without my even
knowing it, she left York and came back to Primrose
Manor. I wrotebut she wouldnt answer my
letters. Until finally, she wrote me she hoped she
never saw me again.
I am sorry, Mr. Barstowe, Aunt Agatha said
gently.
Are you? Tony said, the old bitterness in his
voice. Im theater, remember, he said.
Aunt Agatha tactfully ignored his remark, and
turned instead to Randy and Peggy, who had
listened silently as Tony talked. Why the theater, of
all things? Why is she so set on the theater? cried
Aunt Agatha.
What could be more natural? Peggy exclaimed.
All her life, shes heard how she must never have
156

anything to do with the theater. Its been drummed

into her ever since she was a little girl. Finally, when
shes grown up and wants to make a life for herself,
she instinctively turns to the one thing that
represents freedom. Peggy added reflectively, I
dont think the theater is really important to Celia.
Not the theater itself. Its what it represents. But you
cant tell her that. Its something shes got to learn
for herself.
All I want, Aunt Agatha said wistfully, is
Celias happiness. The two things in the world I love
most, she said, are my niece and Primrose Abbey.
My fondest dream always has been that Celia would
marry and settle here, and that her husband would
know how to care for a property like this.
Is that why youre so in favor of Nigel
Clapham? Peggy demanded.
Aunt Agatha inclined her head. Ive always
thought that Nigel is a fine young man. And I know
hes interested in the Abbey.
He may be interested in the Abbey, but hes not
a fine young man. The abrupt remark from Tony
surprised them all.
Aunt Agatha stared at him questioningly. Why
do you say that?
We were at Cambridge together, Tony
explained. He read History, I believe.
Aunt Agatha nodded. That would explain his
157

interest in the Abbey.

Probably, Tony assented. But at the university,
he definitely was considered a rum character.
Is it possible, Mr. Barstowe, Aunt Agatha said,
that you are prejudiced?
Tony flushed. I suppose, he admitted.
But in any case, Peggy put in, Celia loathes
Nigel.
She does! The old lady reared back. She never
told me that!
She knew you liked him, Peggy explained.
You mean she tolerated Nigel just to please
me?
Thats about the size of it.
Aunt Agatha shook her head. Dear me. I do
seem to have made a mess of things
Aunt Agatha was interrupted by Mrs. Puncheons
arrival with a tray of sandwiches. Tony jumped up
to clear the coffee table.
Evening, said Mrs. Puncheon, setting down the
tray. Its a chilly night. Mercy me, will you look at
that! Theres a window open here. Would you like
me to shut it, Miss Agatha?
If you will, Puncheon. I thought I felt a draft.
I wouldnt wonder. Its coming right down
against your back. Ill just Whatever else Mrs.
Puncheon was going to say was lost under a muted
gasp. Oh! she cried in a frightened voice.
158

Aunt Agatha turned in her chair. What is it,

Puncheon?
The light! Mrs. Puncheons voice trembled.
The light in the Abbey! Its on again!

159

XV
Mystery Trespasser

Tony and Randy leaped for the door. Randy threw it

open as Peggy shouted, Where are you going?
The Abbey! Tony called back after them.
Before she had a chance to think what she was
doing, Peggy was running too. She saw Tonys lean
body catapult out the front door following Randy,
who was sprinting down the gravel path toward the
copse of trees that separated the Manor House and
the Abbey.
Wait for me! Peggy yelled.
Go back! Randy shouted, not breaking stride.
As Peggy plunged into the border of woods, a
branch caught at her dress. She gasped and
wrenched loose, fighting the fingers of trees as they
reached for her. The next instant, she was free of the
copse and the dark shadow of the Abbey loomed
over her. This was closer than she ever had been to
the ruin.
Randy! she called experimentally. Tony!
160

There was a sound over to her right, and she ran

in that direction. Suddenly a light flashed in one of
the windows on the second floor. Peggy stopped in
her tracks, her eyes riveted on the opening in the
mottled stone wall.
The next thing she heard was a splintering of
wood and the sound of pounding feet. There was a
crash from the interior of the Abbey, and the light
went out.
Hey! Come on down from there! It was
Randys voice.
Peggy fancied she heard a cry and the hoarse
breathing of a man. Despite her fear, she made her
way to the front door. In the moonlight she could see
the twisted, dust-covered interior of the ancient
building. From the entrance way, all sounds inside
the building echoed hollowly.
Im coming up to get you! Tonys voice
boomed angrily through the stillness. There was a
scurrying noise at Peggys feet, and she drew back.
A startled rat leaped from behind a tattered tapestry
and fled, squeaking, down a corridor.
Upstairs, she could hear more footsteps, another
crash, then silence.
Randy! she cried, now thoroughly alarmed.
Randy! Tony! Where are you?
After what seemed an infinity, she heard Tonys
annoyed answer. Yes?
161

162

Are you all right?

Yes, of course.
Wheres Randy? she cried.
Right here, came Randys reassuring voice
from somewhere above her.
Whats up there? called Peggy.
Come on up and see for yourself, replied Tony.
Is it all right?
Come on, Randy called to her. Here, Ill light
a match to guide you.
Peggy heard a match scratch. Then, above her, a
blossom of bright yellow flared.
Can you see your way?
In the darkness, Peggy nodded, then remembering
that they couldnt see her, she called that she was
coming. Cautiously, she moved up the stairs. At last,
she was standing beside Randy. In the flickering
light, she could see Tony hovering a few feet away.
Whoever it was is Ouch!
Have you got another match?
Yes, said Randy. And again there was a
scratch, and a tiny circle of light appeared.
Hes gone, Tony said simply.
Are you sure? demanded Randy.
Positive, said Tony.
Did you see him? Randy asked Peggy.
Yes, I saw a shape running down this corridor to
the rear of the Abbey. At first, I thought it might be
163

Tony, but he jumped out the window. Peggy felt a

box of matches thrust into her hand.
Here, get ready to light another one, Randy
instructed. This ones about to burn out.
Peggy did as she was told. He jumped from the
second story! she reported.
At the end of the building, the ground rises up.
Its not such a bad fall, said Tony. Hell be a mile
away by now, he added ruefully.
Peggy, said Randy, I want you to keep a light
going while Tony and I look around.
Obediently, Peggy held the little match, as the
boys began their search. In the flickering light and
shadow, it was difficult to see, but they could at
least be certain that there was no one else still in the
building.
I say, came Tonys excited voice. Bring that
light over here.
Peggy struck another match and followed Randy
to where Tony stood by a wall of stone that ran the
length of the corridor. The matchs light revealed
something metallic on the floor.
What is it? demanded Peggy.
A chisel, said Tony.
And heres a hammer, reported Randy,
stooping to pick it up.
Look, theres something over there, Peggy said,
pointing the match in her excitement.
164

Hold it steady, cautioned Randy as Peggy

struck another match. Moving forward, Peggy
indicated the spot where something light had caught
her attention. Randy bent to examine the area.
Its a piece of paper, he reported, as Peggy and
Tony crowded around him.
What is it? demanded Peggy.
Hold the match higher, instructed Randy.
Lets seeits a plan.
A plan?
Something like a blueprint, said Randy, only
homemade.
Lets see, said Tony, bending over the paper.
Wait a minute! This is a plan of the Abbey! At
least, I think it is.
An old plan? asked Peggy.
Tony shook his head. Its drawn with a pencil
and not too carefully at that. And its on plain bond
paper. The kind you can get at any stationery store.
Suddenly, they were plunged into darkness again,
Somewhere behind them, there was a rattling noise.
Peggy fumbled with the box. That was the last
one, she said softly, hearing the noise again.
Its only rats, Randy said reassuringly, taking
her hand.
We might as well get going, said Tony.
Theres nothing more we can do in the dark.
They groped their way cautiously back down the
165

stairs and out into the night. Peggy felt the wind
against her face and took a deep breath.
Come on, Randy said gently, taking her arm.
Wed better get back to the house.
Puncheon will be having hysterics, Tony
agreed cheerfully.
As they came through the trees, they saw the
Manor House was ablaze with lights. Jenkins
greeted them at the door with an anxious face. You
didnt go in? he asked.
Why not? said Tony.
Did you see him? Jenkins whispered.
If you mean the ghost, no. But we did catch
sight of a man, Bandy replied.
Mr. Barstowe! Mr. Brewster! came Aunt
Agathas voice. Are you all right? Is Peggy with
you?
Perfectly, thanks, Tony replied cheerfully as he
led the way into the drawing room. Celia! he
protested. What are you doing up?
Celia, looking pale and worried, rose to greet
him. I heard all the racket. Mrs. Puncheon told me
what happened. Tony, did you go into the Abbey?
I did, he reported, and so did Brewster and so
did Peggy.
Celia stared from one face to another.
What was it? Aunt Agatha asked, almost
fearfully.
166

There was a man in the Abbey, Tony declared.

Not a ghost, a live, flesh-and-blood man.
But what was he doing there? demanded Aunt
Agatha.
Were not certain, said Randy. But we found
these things. A hammer and a chisel and this. He
held out the paper Peggy had found.
Celia hurriedly examined it. Whyits a
drawing. A plan.
We think its a floor plan of the Abbey, Peggy
reported.
Celia nodded and showed it to her aunt.
Yes, Aunt Agatha said decisively. Its a crude
copy of an old floor plan. Whoever copied it has
missed one or two things, and hes got an extra room
here. But its the Abbey all right. Where did you
find this?
On the second floor. In the middle of a long
corridor, Randy said.
I cant believe it, Aunt Agatha murmured.
Well, I hope that sets your ghost at rest, said
Tony. Someonesomeone very much alive
wants something from that building. Any idea of
what it might be?
Aunt Agatha shook her head.
Well, in any case, said Randy, I think you
should call the police. If trespassers are prowling
through the Abbey every night, they should be
167

stopped.
I agree, said Aunt Agatha. But theres nothing
more to be done tonight. Whoever it was certainly
wont come again tonight. Youll have frightened
him too badly. Now I think its best that we all have
some sleep. Naturally, you must all stay here, and
we can discuss the problem in the morning.
Miss Primrose, Tony began, it is extremely
kind of you, and I hope you wont think Im rude,
but I would prefer returning to London.
I think we should get back, Randy seconded
Tony. Celias had enough excitement, and if were
all here, she wont relax as well as if shes just with
the family.
Nonsense! protested Celia.
You are truly most welcome, said Aunt Agatha.
Theyre right, said Peggy. Celia does need to
rest. Shes had a nasty experience. I think I should
go on back to London with the boys.
Oh, Peggy, protested Celia.
We do have a play opening, Peggy said,
stealing a glance at Aunt Agatha.
Okay, said Celia. You three go on back, and
Ill have Jenkins drive me up Sunday night.
Youre coming back to London? Peggy asked.
Celia nodded. Ive got my classes, she said.
Aunt Agatha stiffened. Then you intend to
continue your career?
168

Oh, Aunt Agatha Celia began.

Peggy watched the conflict on Aunt Agathas
face and wondered what she would say. After a
struggle, the older woman smiled. Of course, my
dear, she said gently, I was just asking.
The tension vanished. A few moments later, Celia
and her aunt escorted Peggy, Randy, and Tony to the
door and saw them into Tonys car. The two of them
were still standing together, waving as Tony pulled
out of the driveway.
Well, Tony remarked as he swung the little car
into the highway, Celias aunt seems to have
softened up a bit. Last summer, I definitely was
persona non grata around here.
It wasnt just you, said Peggy. It was everyone
connected with the theater.
I wonder what Celia will do now that her aunts
not opposing the theater as a career, speculated
Randy. Maybe it wont sound so attractive.
I hope so, muttered Tony.
They drove a little while in silence. Randy spoke
at last. Well, at least we accomplished one thing.
Tony and I wanted to find out what was causing
those fights. We more or less proved that its a fleshand-blood human being.
Tony! exclaimed Peggy, her memory jarred.
You never snowed Celia that note.
What note? Tony said guiltily.
169

The one with the message.

No, said Tony. What good would it do? Right
now everyone thinks Celia had an accident, even if
she does insist that she never put on the gas. Let
them go on thinking it. The truth would frighten
them.
You dont think you should tell her? asked
Peggy.
Tonys face was set in a frown. I think its
important that Celia return to London, he replied.
That man we surprised tonight has had a free hand
in the Abbey for some time. He knew no one would
disturb him.
Thats certainly true, said Peggy. No one in
the village would go near the place.
Exactly. But its different now. He doesnt know
whats going to happen or how often hell be
interrupted when hes at the Abbey. Hes going to
feel pressed and panicky.
But Peggy faltered. Doesnt that mean he
might be desperate?
Precisely, said Tony, maneuvering to pass a
truck ahead of them. Thats why its better for
Celia to be in London than at Primrose Abbey.
Im not so certain, Randy said thoughtfully.
After this business with the gas tonight, I think we
can dismiss the idea that someones playing
practical jokes with those warning notes. Whoever is
170

writing them means business. He proved that.

Poor Celia, Peggy said sympathetically.
You must remember, Randy said grimly, that
we dont want the Primrose curse executed on close
associates either.

171

XVI
Unwanted Escort Service

The following week was quiet. Celia returned to

London on Sunday night and continued her classes
at Mr. Tebbetts studio. Peggy spent most of her
waking hours in the theater, gripped by the
mounting excitement of an approaching opening
night. More and more, Peggy enjoyed working with
this cast of English actors and actresses. And
gradually, she learned the customs and superstitions
of the British stage. As in the United States, it was
considered bad form to wish an actor good luck
before a performance. Such a wish could only
provoke disaster. In England, an actor or actress
courts ruin if he tidies a makeup box, whistles, or
recites Macbeth in his dressing room, knits on stage,
or uses real flowers on the set. Peggy also learned
that an accidental fall on the stage means a long
career for the actor, provided he has not broken his
neck, and that if the actor for a part is unknown
when the program goes to press the name printed
172

always will be Walter Plinge. Sibyl Cranton

explained to Peggy that Walter Plinge, long since
dead, had been a popular pub keeper in Drury Lane
during his lifetime.
Working as hard as she was, Peggy forgot her
disappointment that she saw Randy only on his rare
appearances at the theater, and then, of course, never
alone. Peggy saw Celia only in the evenings and
then only briefly. The English girl never came to the
theater and made no attempt to see Tony. Because of
Celias reluctance, Peggy was more than surprised
on the Thursday afternoon of the last week of
rehearsals when the stage doorman came up to her
with a whispered message.
A Miss Wycliffe is outside, miss. Shall I send
her in?
By all means, Peggy replied. Show her into
my dressing room. Ill be with her as soon as I finish
this scene.
Peggy! came a cry from the stage.
Coming, Ron! Peggy yelled back. Thank you
very much, she said to the doorman, moving out to
the stage.
When she finished, she walked briskly to her tiny
dressing room on the second floor of the theater and
opened the door. Celia was pacing nervously back
and forth in the space between the mirror and the
door.
173

Celia, Peggy said, is anything wrong?

Celia stared at Peggy with a puzzled frown. The
studio is closed, she announced abruptly.
What! Peggy sank down on one side of a sofa
that was jammed along one wall. Celia sat down
beside her.
Yes, the English girl said. I went to my class
this morning as usual and the place was locked up.
With no warning? Peggy asked in an
incredulous voice.
None at all. I found the janitor and asked him
about it. He told me Mr. Tebbetts had decided to
close the place last night.
Peggy didnt know what to say. She simply stared
at Celia in stunned silence. What are you going to
do? she asked at last.
There isnt anything to do, Celia said in
exasperation. The building agent doesnt have a
forwarding address, and I dont know where he
lives. It seems, she went on bitterly, that my
theatrical career has come to a sudden halt. Im sure
Tony will be pleased.
There are other teachers, Peggy said hopefully,
knowing she shouldnt encourage Celia, but not
knowing what else to say at the moment.
I suppose so, said Celia without much
enthusiasm. But I want to think things over before I
start. There was something else worrying Celia,
174

Peggy could see that. At last it came out.

Peggy?
Yes?
Are you going to be through early today?
I dont think so, Celia. Our previews start next
week. That isnt exactly the same as an opening, but
we will have an audience. Peggy looked at her
friend sharply. Why do you ask?
Celia traced an invisible design on the sofa with
her finger. I think, she said in a faltering voice, I
think Im being followed.
Peggys hand flew to her throat. Oh, no!
I walked around quite a lot after I found the
studio locked. I began to think someone was
following me. I stopped for lunchtelling myself I
was being foolish. Why would anyone follow me?
But when I left the restaurant Celia broke off. I
cant tell for sure, she said, keeping her voice under
control. Its just a feeling I have.
Listen, Celia, Peggy said earnestly, why dont
you take a taxi and go right home. Stay there until I
get there. Ill bring Tony.
I dont want Tony, Celia declared stubbornly,
and Im not going to be scared by whoever it is.
Dont talk foolishness, Peggy protested.
Celia gave a defiant lift to her chin. I cant see
that cowering at home is going to do any good. I
dont know why Im being followedif I am, but I
175

do know I cant go on living the way I have. I want

this whole thing to come out in the open.
Where are you going then? Peggy asked.
Thats another thing, Celia replied, digging into
her pocketbook. Ive been thinking about those
plans you found in the Abbey.
And? Peggy prompted.
I remember once seeing a set of plans of the
Abbey. They were copies of a set filed in the British
Museum. Celia pulled out the pencil sketches and
tapped them significantly. These are different, she
declared.
How? Peggy asked.
Thats what I dont know, Celia said. And so,
this afternoon, Im going over to the genealogy
room of the museum and hunt up the old plans. I
want to compare the two. She smiled briefly. I
ought to be safe as houses in the British Museum.
Peggy smiled back. You should be, she agreed.
How long do you think youll be there?
A couple of hours, I imagine. It always takes a
little time while they find what you want.
Do you think youll still be there at five?
I think so.
Good. Peggy stood up and moved to the door.
Ill meet you there.
Celia looked relieved. You will! Oh, thanks a
lot! I must admit Ill feel safer going home with you.
176

Isnt it awful?
Peggy laughed and slipped her arm through
Celias. Dont worry about that, she said. Just sit
tight and wait for me. She looked approvingly at
Celias dress. Youre wearing your pin, I see.
Celia glanced down at it. Yes. The jeweler
repaired it and polished it all up for me. By the way,
you were right.
About what?
It was a real key. The jeweler said so.
Oh. Peggy opened the door and ushered Celia
out of the dressing room. Im going to look around
in the secondhand shops. Maybe I can find
something like it. The two friends parted at the
stage entrance. Now take care, Peggy said as Celia
stepped out into the alleyway.
Dont worry, Celia replied. See you at five.
Right. Peggy acknowledged and went back to
the rehearsal.
But in spite of her promise, it was after five by
the time Tony reluctantly permitted the stage
manager to dismiss the cast for the day, and Peggy
remembered to tell Tony about Celias strange fear
that she was being followed.
Why didnt you tell me this sooner? Tony
demanded, barely controlling his anger.
Randy, paying one of his rare visits to the theater,
was as impatient as Tony.
177

We cant let you girls go home alone, he said

simply. Wed all better go to the museum to meet
Celia. Then we can see you two home, and make
certain that the gas hasnt been turned on again and
that there arent any more cute notes lying around.
He made his voice light as he spoke, but Peggy
could see that he was worried.
Thanks, she said to his offer. I would feel
better if you two were along. I guess Im getting a
little tense because opening night is so close. Im
certain theres nothing to worry about really.
Lets hope so, Tony said grimly, taking her arm
to hurry her out of the theater.

178

XVII
The Clerks Clue

Tony, who had summoned a taxi rather than take the

time to get his car from the garage, now impatiently
urged the driver to go faster. Randy, meanwhile,
asked Peggy to repeat the complete story of Celias
visit to the theater, pressing Peggy for details about
why Celia had thought she was being followed.
Peggy however, could add very little to what she
already had told them.
As the taxi stopped in front of the British
Museum, Tony flung open the door and rushed for
the entrance, leaving Randy to pay the driver. Peggy
breathlessly followed Tony, catching up with him as
he questioned an attendant at the information desk.
Straight back, sir, the attendant informed them.
Take the lift to the third floor.
Tony flung him a Thank you, and was off.
Peggy raced hurriedly after him. Randy caught up
with them at the lift.
Which way is the genealogical room? Tony
179

asked as they stepped off the lift on the third floor.

First door on your left, sir, the operator
answered.
Tony strode over to the door, pushed it open, and
addressed a clerk behind a desk. Did a Miss Celia
Wycliffe register with you this afternoon? he asked
brusquely.
The clerk peered at him over the top of a pair of
steel-rimmed spectacles. Miss Wycliffe, he
repeated, pursing his mouth. Was she inquiring
about the Primrose papers?
Tony nodded. That would be the one.
The clerk came around from behind his desk. I
believe she has left, sir, but Ill take you to the
alcove she was using. He stared a little as he
glanced from Tony to Peggy to Randy, seeing the
three frightened faces.
Thank you, Tony said, falling into step beside
the man.
Its really quite remarkable, the clerk said in a
cheerful voice as they walked down the length of the
room, the amount of interest being shown in the
Primrose papers.
Peggy drew up on the other side of him. Have
there been other people here to see them? she
asked.
Just one gentleman, the clerk explained. But
hes been coming regularly.
180

Today? demanded Randy.

No. Actually, he hasnt been back for a week.
But before that he went over the papers about once a
week. Particularly keen on seeing plans for the old
Abbey, he was. I suppose hes writing a history.
The clerk sighed. So many people writing histories
these days. And so few people read them.
Do you know this mans name? Randy asked.
Let me think, said the clerk. Needshore, it
was. Yes, Needshores the name.
Randy and Tony exchanged glances, shaking
their heads. Randy looked questioningly at Peggy.
She shook her head in answer to his unspoken
question. The name meant nothing to her either.
The clerk stopped by an alcove. Ahh, here we
are, but Im afraid your friend has gone. He pointed
to a pile of papers. But here are the papers she was
using. The call boy hasnt returned them yet, so I
expect shes only been gone a short time.
Thank you very much, said Tony, obviously
eager for the clerk to be gone so that he could speak
privately to Peggy and Randy.
Not at all, sir, said the clerk, making no move
to leave.
Shall we go? asked Randy.
Just a minute, said Peggy, who had approached
the table and was rummaging through the pile of
papers.
181

What are you looking for? said Tony. We

should try to find Celia.
I want to see those plans Celia mentioned.
Peggy paused over an old manuscript.
Do you recall what Mr. Needshore looked like?
Randy questioned the clerk, who still lingered with
them.
Let me think, said the clerk. You know, we
see a good number of people, he said
apologetically. I see the names written down, so
theyre easier for me to remember. Faces are a little
more difficult. No. No, he repeated. I cant say
that I do remember Mr. Needshores face.
Thank you, replied Randy.
Look! Peggy said triumphantly. Tony and
Randy came up to peer over her shoulder. Do you
remember the drawing we found? she asked them.
Vaguely, said Tony. Randy merely nodded.
Look at this. Peggys finger shot to a section
that represented the second floor of the old Abbey.
Remember that long wallthe one where we
spotted the hammer and chisel?
Sure, said Randy.
These plans show that there are two rooms
behind this wall.
So? said Tony, fidgeting and still more
interested in trying to locate Celia than in examining
the plans.
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The drawing didnt, said Peggy. According to

the drawing, there was a tiny little room squeezed in
between the two big ones. It was about halfway
down the corridor.
A secret room? Randy suggested.
What else? Peggy said, beginning to get
excited. Thats what the hammer and chisel were
all about. Somebody was trying to force his way into
that room.
Tony leaned over the drawing, interest in Peggys
words for the moment overcoming his anxiety about
Celia. You know, I think youre right, he
muttered.
As Tony and Randy studied the old plans,
Peggys eyes wandered over the pile of papers.
There were ancient deeds, court records of property
disputes, original correspondence. . . . Suddenly
Peggys eyes riveted on one particular piece of
paper. It was a drawing of an ornate key. She stared
at the attendant, who was still politely hovering in
the background.
Whats this? she demanded.
The clerk took a step forward and examined the
drawing. That, he announced, is the Great Key of
the Primrose family.
But what does that mean? Peggy demanded.
A thin smile crossed the clerks face. An
excellent question, miss. Historians have puzzled
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over that for centuries. It is said to unlock the secret

of the Primrose family. However, there are some . .
.
The clerk talked on, his voice dry and precise, but
Peggy wasnt listening. It all came together at last.
Bits and pieces of what people had said over the past
few weeks suddenly had meaning to her. She knew
what the secret was. And she knew she wasnt the
only one. She felt Randy shaking her arm.
Whats the matter? he was saying. You look
funny.
She stared at him seriously. I dont feel funny,
she said. Weve got to go.
Where? Randy demanded.
To find Celia.
Where would she have gone? Tony asked.
Back to the flat? Peggys words were a
question rather than a statement. She really didnt
know where Celia might have gone. If she had left
the museum of her own volition and had had
freedom of action, the flat was the logical place for
her to go. But she had thought she was being
followed. . . .
Wed better try the flat first, Randy decided,
turning to thank the clerk.
Oh, sir, said the clerk, detaining them a
moment longer, I believe Ive remembered Mr.
Needshore. A young chap, he was, I think. I
184

remember one of my colleagues saying he must be a

graduate student up from one of the universities.
Tony shrugged disinterestedly. Scholars were the
last persons in whom he could now take an interest.
Randy, however, thanked the clerk again, and as
Tony rushed them back toward the lift, Randy asked
Peggy, Are you on to something?
Peggy nodded. I think so, she said grimly. I
think I know what this is all about.
Tony savagely punched the lift button. Why
doesnt this thing come? he demanded impatiently.
How do you have it figured? he asked, turning to
Peggy.
I think, said Peggy, trying to keep calm, that
wed better get to Celia as quickly as possible. She
may be in danger.

185

XVIII
The Primrose Coronet

They could see from the street that there were no

lights in the flat. Wordlessly, they pounded up the
five flights of stairs, each silently fearful of what
sight would meet them when they pulled open the
door to the little sitting room, each remembering
another evening when they together had climbed
those stairs to find Celia unconscious and the flat
full of gas.
The door was locked this time, and Peggy had to
fumble to find her key. Tony snatched it from her
trembling fingers, then fumbled with the lock
himself, unable to turn the key on the first attempt.
But finally, he flung open the door and burst into
the sitting room. Almost frantically, he called,
Celia! Celia!
As Peggy followed him into the room, she could
see in the natural light that it was empty. With relief,
she realized that there was no telltale odor of gas.
Weak-kneed, she sank into the sofa, as Tony darted
186

into the bedroom and Randy made for the kitchen.

Shes not here, called Randy.
Celia! Tony shouted, his voice coming loud
from the bedroom.
Is she there? called Randy, charging out of the
kitchen and heading toward the bedroom.
Tony intercepted him. Shes not here! he
announced, his composure almost gone.
Where? said Randy, turning to Peggy.
Peggy shook her head, baffled.
Whats this? shouted Tony, his eyes falling on
an envelope propped on top of the desk.
Another warning? Randy asked grimly.
Its addressed to Peggy, said Tony, pulling a
sheet of paper out of the envelope. Excuse me, he
muttered automatically to Peggy as his eyes scanned
the handwritten lines.
Its from Celia, he announced with relief.
Shes gone to the studio, he said, disgust coming
through the relief still in his voice.
Let me see, said Peggy, reaching for the note.
Good news, she said, reading aloud. Mr.
Tebbetts telephoned to say hes been ill today. He
said the janitor at the studio was confused, and it
must be someone else in the building whos moving.
Mr. Tebbetts said he tried to telephone me all day to
tell me that he wasnt feeling well and couldnt
come to the studio. Now he wants me at the studio
187

this evening to make up for the work we missed

today. Celia. Peggy glanced at Randy and Tony.
Theres a postscript, she said. Sorry I missed
you at the museumif I did, she read. I waited,
then finally decided you were rehearsing late and
werent coming. So I came on home.
That darned stupid girl, muttered Tony, almost
under his breath.
What now? Randy asked quietly, turning to
Peggy.
Somethings funny, said Peggy. I think wed
better get over to the studio. I dont trust this note.
Its Celias handwriting, Tony pointed out.
Yes, Peggy agreed. But I dont trust this note
anyway. If somebody was following Celia today and
wanted to get her alone . . . Her voice trailed off.
You never did tell us what you began to suspect
while we were at the museum, Randy pointed out.
Its too long to go into now, said Peggy,
jumping up. I think wed better get to the studio
and find Celiaif shes actually there.
I think Peggys right, Tony said darkly,
reaching for the doorknob.
The tires screeched as the taxi pulled up beside
the building housing the Dynamic Art Studio. This
time it was Peggy who was left to settle with the
driver as Tony and Randy piled out of the car and
188

raced for the doorway. As the taxi roared away,

Peggy made her way through the door and began
climbing the stairs. She caught up with Randy and
Tony on the first landing where they had halted,
uncertain of the location of the studio.
Third floor, Peggy called to them, breathless
from her race up the stairs.
Just one more floor, she announced, as she
reached the landing.
Quiet! came Tonys sharp command.
Peggy froze. Overhead, she could hear the sound
of someone pounding and then a noise that sounded
like a piece of furniture falling to the floor.
Come on! Tony yelled, charging past Randy.
He flung himself around the banister, spotted the
door of the studio, and charged it. As Tony slammed
into the door, the frosted pane broke with a shatter.
There was a scream from inside the studio, and in
the next instant, Celias frightened face appeared.
Peering into the room, Peggy saw that the door of
what looked like a broom closet was open. One of
the folding chairs had toppled on its side and was
lying beside Celia. The English girl must have
knocked it over in her hurry to reach the front door.
Oh, Tony, Celia was sobbing. Get me out of
here!
Tony reached his arm through the broken glass
and turned the inside lock. The door swung open
189

and the next instant Celia was in Tonys arms.

There, there, Tony said soothingly. Youre all
right now.

190

It was awful, Celia said, her voice muffled by

Tonys shoulder.
What happened?

191

I got a message from Mr. Tebbetts to come

Yes, we know all about that. We read the note,
Randy interrupted.
Celia sniffled and pulled herself together. Well,
when I got down here, the building was dark. But
there was a light on in the studio.
And you went in? prompted Randy.
Celia nodded. The place was deserted. I called
out, but nobody answered. Then the lights went out.
Somebody grabbed me. I struggled, I think I didI
dont remember. I must have fainted. Anyway, I
woke up in the broom closet over there. I yelled for
help, but nobody heard me.
The swine, Tony muttered.
Then I began to use my head. I remembered
reading somewhere that simple locks can be opened
with a hairpin. I tried it, and it worked. I was just
unlocking the front door when I heard you coming.
Tears welled up in Celias eyes. Oh, Tony! she
cried. Whats going on? What in the name of
heaven do they want? She covered her face with
her hands and began to sob.
Celia! Peggy said sharply.
Celia gasped and looked up. Your pin, Peggy
said in a trembling voice. Did you have it on when
you came in here?
Celia stared down at her dress. A jagged rip
marred the material where the pin should have been.
192

It must have been torn loose in the struggle, she

said. Why?
A great fear filled Peggy. Why? Because its the
key to the whole mystery. She turned to Tony.
Wheres your car? she demanded.
In the garage.
Weve got to drive down to Primrose Abbey,
she said.
Tonight?
This very instant. And weve got to fly.
But why? Tony protested.
Peggy shoved him to the door. Ill tell you later.
But for now, hurry.
Faster, urged Peggy as she sat tensely in the
back seat beside Randy. The little car was hurtling
through the night in the direction of Primrose
Abbey.
Ill get picked up by the police if I put on any
more speed, Tony protested.
Thats not a bad idea, Peggy replied. I hope
we get picked up by a whole squad of them.
Tony hunched over the wheel and jammed the
accelerator against the floorboard.
As they turned off the main highway into the road
leading to the Abbey, taking the corner on two
wheels, a car pulled in behind them. Celia saw it
first.
193

Somebodys following us, she said.

Randy peered into the darkness. Police, he
grunted.
Keep going, Peggy ordered Tony.
They rather like you to stop, Tony said mildly.
Not this time. Peggy was firm. Well take
them to the Abbey with us.
A few moments later, Tonys car spun up the
gravel path and skidded to a halt. The pursuing car
cut off their retreat and discharged a pair of angry
constables.
See here! a large, beefy man said. Do you
know how fast you were going?
Peggy reached out the window and grabbed him
by the arm. Hurry up, she said. Youve got to
help us.
The officer looked surprised. Help you? he
said.
Yes. Its the Abbey. There are burglars inside.
The constable shot her a disbelieving look. In
those ruins? he said. Whod want to
Peggy almost wept in her exasperation. Oh,
hurry, she pleaded. Its not a joke.
The constable was impressed by her seriousness.
Very well, miss, he said. Which way?
Right through those trees. But go quietly. We
may startle them.
The constable nodded. Everyone piled out of the
194

car, and the group headed up to the front door of the

Abbey. As they entered the crumbling building,
Peggy held her finger to her lips. The party paused
and listened. Above them, they could hear the quiet
shuffle of feet, and once Peggy thought she could
detect a muffled pounding noise.
The officers heard the noises too. They nodded
grimly at Peggy, and each unhooked a powerful
flashlight from his belt. Holding these in front of
them, they crept silently up the stairs. At the head of
the long corridor that Peggy remembered so well,
one of them stumbled.
In the darkness beyond there was a half strangled
cry. Two flashlights flared into life, sending beams
of light stabbing down the length of the room.
A figure was impaled by the shafts. His face set
in disbelief, standing as if he were carved out of
stone, was Nigel Clapham. His body was bent over,
one hand flung over his forehead, shading his eyes.
In the other hand, he held a curious object. Old and
tarnished, even bent in places, it was clearly
recognizable at that distance as a crown.
Peggy had never seen it before. No living person
had. It was the famous Primrose coronet.

195

XIX
Miss Agatha Accepts

But I still dont see what this Mr. Tebbetts had to

do with it, Aunt Agatha said.
They were sitting in the drawing room of
Primrose Manor, Celia curled up on one end of the
sofa, Peggy beside her. Randy sat in an easy chair,
and Tony lounged with his back to the fireplace,
watching Aunt Agatha pour tea.
Nothing really, Tony replied. Nigel Clapham
simply blackmailed him into leaving London for a
while. It wouldnt have been too hardnot with a
shady character like that. A few threats to go to the
police about his taking Celias money. Something
like that. Then with Tebbetts away, Nigel phoned
Celia, pretending to be Tebbetts.
My, Aunt Agatha said, handing him a cup, I
think you were so clever to figure it out.
Tony grinned. No bouquets for me, he said
cheerfully. Toss them at Peggy. She was the one
who put the pieces together.
196

Really! Aunt Agatha turned to Peggy

expectantly. What made you see what was
happening?
Peggy crossed her legs and took a tentative sip of
tea. Little things, mostly, she informed them. The
first fink was the vicar.
Edward Hector?
Yes. If he hadnt told me about the Primrose
coronet, wed all still be groping in the dark. The
next thing, Peggy went on, was the light in the
Abbey. Dont forget I saw it. I knew it wasnt just a
rumor or Mrs. Puncheons imagination. There
actually was a light. Now, I dont believe in ghosts,
so the only thing it could be was a man. Obviously
he wanted something. Nobody spends long evenings
in moldy old ruins unless theres a pretty strong
reason. Peggy smiled ruefully. Only I didnt
associate the night visitor with the coronet at that
moment. I should have, I suppose. It would have
saved Celia several awful moments.
Yes, what about that? Celia asked. That note
and that near-miss with the car.
There were two notes, Randy told Celia. And
two near-misses.
You mean the gas?
Peggy nodded, answering for Randy. Yes, that
gas didnt go on accidentally. Do you remember
what happened that afternoon?
197

Celia stared thoughtfully into the fire. When I

arrived home, I remember feeling tired. I decided to
have a rest until you came in. The next thing I knew,
you all were standing over me in the bedroom, and I
felt terrible.
Tony pulled up a chair and sat down. That
checks with what Nigel told us, he said.
According to him, he opened the door to your
flat
How did he get in? Celia interrupted.
You didnt lock it, Tony answered. Anyway,
he came and saw you sleeping on the sofa. Then he
got the idea of turning on the gas and leaving a
second warning note. He hadnt planned on doing
that, but it seemed a good chance.
Celia shuddered. I just cant believe that he
wanted to kill
Oh, he didnt want to kill you! Randy said
hastily. That was the furthest thing from his mind.
Celia looked bewildered. I dont understand,
she said.
Look at it this way, Peggy chimed in. Nigel
knew about the secret room, and he guessed the
Primrose coronet was hidden in it. But he didnt
know how to get to it without tearing down brick
walls. One answer was marrying you.
Celia straightened up. Marrying me!
Of course, Peggy said. As your husband he
198

would have been master of Primrose Abbey. In that

position, he could have spent as much time in the
old Abbey as he wanted to. He could even have torn
down a brick wallpretending he was doing
restoration work.
You mean the only reason he wanted to marry
me was to get control of the Abbey?
Peggy nodded. And the coronet.
Celia looked over at her aunt. And thats the
man you picked out for me, she said, shaking her
head.
Aunt Agatha sighed. I shall never again take on
the role of matchmaker. But in all fairness, I was
impressed by his concern with the property.
He was concerned with it all right, Tony said
dryly.
The important thing to remember is that it was
an essential part of Nigels scheme to keep you close
to home. He couldnt court you too easily when you
were in London.
I dont understand why he tried to run us down
with the car, said Celia. I suppose it was Nigel.
Tony nodded. Oh, yes, it was Nigel all right. But
he wasnt trying to run over you. He just wanted to
give you a good scare. That was the idea behind the
gas too. His plan was to fill the flat with gas and at
the last moment, to rush in, find the note he wrote,
and save you.
199

Comprehension flooded Celias face. He hoped

Id be grateful.
Thats right, Peggy said. And at the same time
frighten you into returning to the Abbey.
But if he thought he was going to marry me,
why did he prowl around the Abbey at night? Celia
wanted to know. Why didnt he wait?
Because, Tony said, Nigel knew he was taking
a chance. You might turn him down. Then hed
never have a chance at the building. So he paid
regular visits there at night, probably hunting for the
secret room at first and later when he knew about
where it was, searching for a way into it.
I still dont understand why he frightened Mr.
Tebbetts into closing the studio, said Celia.
Well, said Peggy, it was one more way to
frustrate your career, so maybe youd come home.
Then, we dont know exactly when Nigel figured
out that your pin was the key to the secret room. He
must have seen you wear it, although you told me
you dont wear it very often. But he did pay regular
visits to the British Museumnot too often, so his
absence wouldnt be noticed here, but still fairly
regularly. It was on the days when he came to the
museum that he left the warning notes, turned on the
gas, and tried to run us down with the car. Sometime
during this time, he must have seen the drawing at
the museum, heard the clerks story, and
200

remembered your pin. We think he searched the

apartment the night he turned on the gashe hasnt
admitted that. But, of course, the pin was at the
jewelers. Only he didnt know it. So there was one
more reason for getting you hometo get the pin.
He didnt know where it was.
We think he found out about the secret room on
the day he turned on the gas, said Tony. He was at
the museum that day too. And remember that was
the night Randy, Peggy, and I almost caught him in
the Abbey. Hed gone there with a hammer and
chisel for a try at getting into the secret room
without the key.
After you almost caught him, he must have
become pretty scared, said Celia.
Yes, said Randy. He was more determined
than ever to get you back to the Abbey. Thats when
he hit on the plan of frightening Tebbetts out of
town. But it took a little while for him to figure out
how to do it.
At this point, said Peggy, his big problem was
finding the key.
And I was wearing it as a pin! Celia cried.
Can you imagine how excited he was this
morning? He followed you all over London,
determined not to lose sight of you. He couldnt do
anything while you were at the museum. So he
hatched up the phony phone call. He knew youd
201

come if he said he was Mr. Tebbetts because it

involved acting and your career.
He was so right! Celia said ruefully.
And you came, Peggy finished. And we found
you.
When did you know the significance of the
key?
At the museum it suddenly hit me. The same
way it must have hit Nigel. Obviously, if there was a
secret roomand I was pretty sure of that then
there had to be a way of getting into it. I saw the
drawing of the key, and the clerk told me what it
represented.
The key to the Primrose secret, Randy said
softly.
Exactly. Suddenly, everything fell into place.
When we found you at the studio and I saw where
the key had been ripped off your dress, I knew Nigel
must have taken it.
Did you suspect Nigel from the beginning?
Not right away. But by that time, I did. I was
pretty certain.
And Nigel was the one making the lights at the
Abbey? Celia asked softly. They didnt have
anything to do with my being in the plays at York?
Peggy nodded. It was Nigel all along, she said.
Remember, you told me yourself that he came to
the village last spring.
202

Celia nodded.
They sat in silence for a moment, wrapped in
their own thoughts. Well, Tony said at last, I
guess that about winds everything up.
I suppose so, Celia said with a sigh. In a way,
Im sorry. Its been sort of exciting.
Ill say it has, Randy agreed. A little too
excitingwhat with this play of ours opening so
soon. By the way, he said, with a touch of a smile,
would you care to come to the play on opening
night in London, Miss Primrose?
Aunt Agatha looked nonplussed. Me? Come to a
play?
Why not? Randy said cheerfully, as Peggy,
almost holding her breath, stared at Celias aunt,
waiting for her answer.
Aunt Agatha sat quite still. Finally, she smiled.
Well, why not indeed? she said suddenly. You
know, Ive always been curious to see one.

203

XX
Curtain Calls

There was a rap on Peggys dressing room door.

Fifteen minutes, called Ron Standish. Peggy could
hear him moving on down the passageway toward
the next dressing room. Fifteen minutes! And the
curtain would go up on the London premiere of
Come Closer. In fifteen minutes, she, Peggy Lane,
would be making her London debut!
Hastily, Peggy adjusted the makeup of her left
eyebrow. It wasnt quite dark enough to carry across
the bright footlights as both natural and youthful
looking. Fifteen minutes! The previews had gone
well. The audiences had liked the play. But the
London critics were a different matter. Would they
like this play? Would they experience both the
pathos and the humor that Randy intended the
spectators to feel? Would they find Peggy, playing
with a cast of well-trained and thoroughly
experienced actors and actresses, up to the
challenges of her role?
204

Peggy gave the eyebrows one last stroke of the

pencil, and put away her fears. It is going to be a
Another rap at the door interrupted her thought.
Telegram, Miss Lane, said an usher as Peggy
pulled open the dressing room door. Happily, Peggy
ripped open the envelope, unconsciously glancing at
the little pile of messages already collected on her
dressing table. They were greetings and good wishes
from her family and friends in the States. A huge
bouquet of red rosesCelia and Aunt Agathas
tributeadorned one corner of the tiny room.
Ill be sitting in the theater as you read this. Ill
see you immediately after your triumph. Kurt,
Peggy read.
Guiltily, Peggy added Kurts message to the
collection. She couldnt help being glad that Kurt
was in the audience. She would be happy to see him,
and she would value his reaction to her performance.
Kurt knew theater, and he was just honest enough
that if she wasnt good hed tell her. But Kurts
presence reminded her of other problemslike one
Randolph Clark Brewster, playwright. Peggy had
scarcely seen Randy since the night that she, Tony,
and he had returned from Primrose Abbey after
unraveling the secret of the Primrose coronet.
During the drive, Randy excitedly had begun
planning a spectacular opening night celebration,
telling Peggy that hed find some place special in
205

London for the party. Tactfully, Peggy had

mentioned that Kurt Werner had suggested on
shipboard that Peggy celebrate with him. She hadnt
reminded Randy that while aboard ship she hadnt
known Randy was coming to England; but she
hoped he would remember that little fact.
Places! the stage manager called urgently. And
Peggy knew it was time to take her place on the set.
Determinedly, she pulled herself into the
characterization that she had been building for
weeks. Personal problems could not now interfere.
She was no longer Peggy Lane. She was a confused
secretary just turned heiress to the fortune she had
earned as a child movie star. Descending the stairs,
Peggy made her way to the set, looking around in
wonder at the lavishness of the main reception room
of the hotel retreat where she had come to collect
her thoughts and determine what course her life
would take in the future. Completely engrossed in
her role, Peggy hesitantly touched a fringe on a satin
upholstered chair, just as the little secretary would
have done. The curtain wasnt yet pulled, but Peggy
Lane already was in character for her London
debut.
The next two and one-half hours were a blur.
Peggy, playing better than she ever had in her life,
could feel the response of her fellow actors, knew
she was responding to them. Tonight, timingan
206

all-important factorwas perfect. The ebb and flow

of action, mood, and emotion was just right. In the
auditorium, the audience with its laughter, its
suspense, its excitements, contributed its portion of
the creative effort necessary for a perfect
performance.
For a few seconds during the crucial second act,
Peggy herself was part of the audience as she
suffered with Sibyl Cranton during the difficult
scene that Celia hadnt been able to read at all. Sibyl
was marvelous. Then the pace of the play
quickened, Peggy had more to do, and she
wholeheartedly gave herself to her part.
Suddenly, too soon, it was over! Peggy held her
position as the curtain fell. Applause rocked the
theater. Sibyl Cranton ran over to Peggy and took
her by the hand.
Weve made it! she cried joyfully. You can
always tell when they applaud like that. Its a hit.
Places! yelled Ron Standish from backstage.
Places for curtain calls!
The cast members hurriedly lined up and were
smiling graciously when the curtain rose. Peggy
stepped forward to receive her share of the tribute.
Three timesfour times, the curtain rose and fell.
Suddenly, there were calls in the auditorium of
Author! Author! The applause deepened, the calls
spread through the house. And a smiling Tony
207

Barstowe led a smiling Randy Brewster onto the

stage. The curtain fell, rose, fell, and rose again. Still
the applause continued. Finally, Ron Standish
ordered the house lights on.
We dont want them to wear out their hands, he
said happily.
In the confusion backstage, Peggy made out
Tony. He had a dazed smile of happiness on his
face. I dont blame him, Peggy thought. His first
production and his first hit.
A familiar figure wriggled through the crowd. It
was Celia, her face shining with delight. Oh,
Peggy, she cried, you were wonderful!
Thanks, Celia! I cant believe it went so well.
I could never have done it, Celia declared
firmly. Never in a million yearsno matter how
many lessons I took. I realize that now, Peggy.
You mean
Celia laughed. I mean Ive retired from the
stage. From now on, my experience with the theater
is going to be strictly limited.
To going to the theater?
Well, yes, Celia admitted. But also as the loyal
wife of a director.
Peggy grabbed her friend by the shoulders. Oh,
Celia!
Celia beamed at her. Its true. Im going to be
Mrs. Anthony Barstowe!
208

of London and Primrose Abbey, Tony said

as he came up beside them, holding Aunt Agatha by
the arm. In London I shall be the West Ends most
dazzlingly successful director. But at Primrose
Abbey, I shall be a solid, pipe-smoking country
squire. He smiled down at Aunt Agatha. Ive
managed to convince my future aunt-in-law that I
too have an interest in the property.
Speaking of property, Peggy asked suddenly,
whats going to happen to the Primrose coronet?
Its going into a museum, Celia announced, as
a small part of Englands history. But youll have a
memento of it.
Whats that?
Well, I want you to be maid-of-honor at our
wedding, Peggy. And Ive got your gift all picked
out. Im having the key copied by a jeweler.
How lovely! Peggy cried, genuinely touched.
The news of Tony and Celias engagement was
spreading through the cast, and Randy, freeing
himself from a circle of admirers, pushed forward to
wring Tonys hand. He caught Peggys eye and
winked.
Suddenly, Kurt Werner, as tall, as handsome, as
immaculate as always, loomed above the throng, his
eager eyes searching out Peggy.
Celia and Tony greeted him simultaneously with
Peggys own greeting, but Kurt, answering politely,
209

had eyes only for Peggy. It is true, he murmured,

taking her hand. You are going to be among the
greatest. I have thought this when I saw you in New
York. Now I am certain. You are young. You need
experience. But the soul is there. It is a great
privilege to know you, he said reverently, bowing
over her hand.
You liked me? asked Peggy in a little-girl
voice.
It was beautiful, he said, breaking into excited
German.
Others around Peggy joined in the praise; the
moment of intimacy with Kurt was broken. Softly,
Kurt sought Peggys attention again, explaining in
apologetic English that he must leave her
immediately, that his boat train left within the hour.
He took her hand again, bowed over it, assured her
that he would write, and that a visit to Germany
must be arranged.
Peggy followed his departing figure with her
eyes, still caught in the pleasure of his praise, but
realizing with a touch of sorrow that for Kurt, the
artist in Peggy always would overshadow the girl.
Accidently, she met Randys sardonic eyes watching
her. Darn it, she thought. That darned Randolph
Clark Brewster.
And you? she said, moving forward to speak to
him. You havent given an opinion on my
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performance.
Which one? Randy said teasingly. On stage
or the one you just gave Werner.
Randy! said Peggy, outraged.
Come on, said Randy, taking her arm. Id
better take you out of here before any more of your
Stagedoor Johnnys show up. That is, if Im going to
get to enjoy any of London with you.
Randy? said Peggy, hanging back.
What? he demanded, pausing.
Well Peggy stopped. She didnt know
exactly what it was she wanted to say.
Randy studied her face. Its all right, he said
softly, exercising his playwrights gift of
understanding her motives before she understood
them herself. It took me a little while to accept it,
he explained. But Ive faced the fact that my girl is
an actressand a beautiful one. Of course, men are
going to fall for you. Its okay. Just so long as they
keep their distancelike Werner did. The actress
belongs to the world, Randy said softly, but the
girl is mine.
Randy, Peggy murmured, so surprised at his
words, and so happy that she couldnt form a
coherent sentence.
Dont get any wrong ideas, said Randy,
grinning down at her. Tomorrow morning at ten
oclock, you report to this theater while I personally
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rehearse you for that bit at the end of the first act. It
was the only sloppy thing in the whole performance.
Youre playing it much too broadly. It needs
Oh, Randy! Peggy protested, half in disgust,
half in pure joy that at last everything was exactly
right between them.

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