Listening Valley Read Free Page B

Antonia’s house. Your grandfather never lived there himself. He lived at Ryddelton Castle, a lovely big place about six miles out of Ryddelton. You’ve seen the picture of Ryddelton Castle hanging on the wall in your father’s study, haven’t you? Melville House—where my mother lives—is in Ryddelton, in the High Street. The family used to move into Ryddelton in the winter when the roads were so bad they couldn’t get in and out to Ryddelton Castle. That’s why all the big families that lived roundabout used to have houses in the town. Of course that was long ago. It’s a very old house, you know. It’s one of the oldest houses in the town. The front door opens right onto the High Street, but there’s a nice bit of garden at the back.”
    â€œWhy don’t we live at Ryddelton Castle now?”
    â€œBecause…oh well, because your mother doesn’t like the country. The castle was sold soon after Tonia was born. There now, that’s enough…too much I shouldn’t wonder,” added Nannie under her breath.
    It was at least sufficient to kindle the interest of Lou and Tonia, and they continued to pester Nannie with questions.
    â€œAsk your father,” said Nannie at last. “He was born and brought up at Ryddelton Castle. Perhaps he’ll tell you about it.”
    It was not easy to carry out this suggestion, for their father was away all day at his office, and when he was at home he paid very little attention to his daughters and showed no desire for their company. However, Lou was of a persistent nature so she bided her time, and one evening when her mother was out and Nannie was busy, she presented herself in her father’s study, dragging a reluctant Tonia by the hand.
    â€œWe want to know all about Ryddelton Castle,” said Lou firmly. “I want to know and so does Tonia—only she’s rather shy. So will you tell us, please?”
    â€œI suppose Nannie’s been talking,” said Mr. Melville, looking at his elder daughter and noting, for the first time, that she was a very good-looking child. “Well, never mind. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t talk—nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a fine place. I never would have sold it if one of you had been a boy.”
    â€œWhy?” asked Lou.
    â€œGood heavens, that’s obvious, isn’t it? There’s always been a Melville at the castle—ever since it was built hundreds of years ago. But what was the use of keeping it? Ella wouldn’t live there.”
    â€œMother?”
    â€œYes, your mother can’t stand the country at any price. She couldn’t get her bridge. There was no use keeping the place standing empty. Damned fine place it is. Sometimes I think I was a fool to sell it, but I got a good offer and I took it.” He sighed and relapsed into silence.
    â€œIs there a pond?” asked Tonia in a very small voice.
    â€œA pond!” exclaimed Mr. Melville in disgust. “My good child, there’s a river. That’s better than a pond, isn’t it? I’ll show you some photographs if you like.” He rose and took some large photograph albums off a shelf in his bookcase and handed one to Tonia.
    Tonia dropped it.
    â€œShe can’t help dropping things,” said Lou, picking it up and putting it on the table.
    â€œWhat d’you mean?” asked Mr. Melville. “Why can’t she help it? Carelessness, that’s what it is.”
    â€œNo,” said Lou earnestly. “No, she isn’t careless. She just can’t hold things with her hands.”
    â€œHolds things with her feet, I suppose,” said Mr. Melville with heavy sarcasm. “Well, never mind. There’s no harm done. No need to look so miserable about it.”
    The albums were full of photographs, and Mr. Melville turned the pages and expatiated on the glories of his ancestral home. He found his daughters a