Dorothy Ivanhallow admitted us into her seaside home with the charm and grace one would expect from anyone bearing perhaps the most esteemed name in Gordorf. Her large eyes were soft and wise, her face round and pudgy complimented with deep dimples which made one smile to see. The soft pink dress and matching cap suggested the leisurely comfort a woman in her mid years was apt to relish when free of such domestic responsibilities as husband and children to exhaust her soul. I could not help but feel that Miss Ivanhallow considered herself lacking in nothing except a new pianoforte for the drawing room.

"Yes, the old one was my great grandfather's, you know. He had always a taste for music of any kind, and was an excellent pianist himself. Well educated as well, despite his hardship of being born lame. He'd taught my grandmother to read and write her letters," here she smiled sweetly to herself. "It is a love story I never tire of hearing..." and she fell into dreamy silence as we sipped strong tea whose origin was wholly unfamiliar to me, and shelled the bountiful supply of silk nuts her head gardener had brought in.

"Malia looks well, Delewyn," said Ivanhallow, surveying me from her place on the plush sofa. She nodded. "Yes, she looks very well."

For Mrs. Ivanhallow herself, I could not say the same. She appeared frailer than ever, her skin drawn tightly over the bone of her face, her hair thinner and whiter than I remembered and her hands which were usually strong and steady despite their thinness, plucked at the yellow pillow she held with an irritable nervousness.

"Hope they haven't been too trying as of late," she said to me. "Petruny writes but never gets into detail as to how they're getting on. She has never been one for writing properly explanatory letters." She gave the cushion a shake with her little arms. 

Miss Ivanhallow rose to adjust her pillows with the patience of a devoted mother.

"Come now, Verese, how many times must I tell you not to vex yourself over simple trifles? You'll hurt your poor head and Doctor Rallaby will have to be sent for."

"Nonsense!" the old woman snapped colouring deeply. "You'll do no such thing, Dorothy--he'll be the death of me! His nasally voice makes my throat hurt and that ridiculous humming sets my teeth to grinding! Why did Doctor Bibbs ever recommended him? If I had met him beforehand I'd have shunned him on the spot! Never have I met a more obtrusive man!"

This was a new light to find my dear Ivanhallow in, and I sat in shock as the two other women did everything in their power to calm and soothe the much excited invalid.

"Fetch a glass of water, Lia. She's coughing so much and I don't like it."

Away I went in search of water and as Miss Ivanhallow kept only one help who was out for the day, I was left to find the glass and pitcher myself. This turned out to be a long ordeal as there were so many cupboards and closets in the oversized kitchen. At last, after a trip to the well, I returned to the Ivanhallows just as Aunt Winnie was saying,

"Well, I'm not sure how he'll feel about it."

"What do you mean?" said Mrs. Ivanhallow, sounding like herself again. "I know exactly how he feels about it, in fact, it is all settled. She's a sensible girl and we've agreed that it would be a good thing for them both."

They stopped when I entered, their countenances quite cool as I set the glass within Ivanhallow's reach.

"What a help you are, my girl," said Mrs. Ivanhallow, patting my hand. The others were almost too optimistic in their agreement.

"Come here, Lia, let me have a good look at you. Why, you seem to have grown! Isn't it so, Delewyn?"

Aunt Winnie only alluded to my seeming more mature. 

"Lia's always been quite grown for her age. I'll warrant she gets it from her father. Auraline was a sweetly childish girl and it always seemed to me that Lia only inherited her looks. As far as I can see, every bone in her body is that of Theseus." She looked me over once more. "How many years are you now, Malia?"

"One and six years since spring."

Interlacing her fingers, she nodded.

"I expect your stepmother has the business of putting you out in society. Your father does have you mingle with his city associates for good reason Lia; you're pretty, well-bred, polite, charming... and of a respectable family. This makes you 'quite the catch', as you young things say. But I imagine you'd find very good men in Gordorf if your father hasn't completely forgotten his heritage. He's Gordorfian first, I hope he remembers?"

Aunt Winnie and I exchanged discreet smiles. "I'm certain he does, Mrs. Ivanhallow."

She grunted before fixing me with those clear grey eyes. "And how old are Estle's boys now, Delewyn?"

My body froze as blood rushed to my face and there was no mistaking the twinkling gleam in my aunt's eyes.

"Well, Eres is her senior by four years, if I'm not mistaken. And she and Pete were born the same year."

Mrs. Ivanhallow looked towards the ceiling as if pondering something then said to my aunt, "Delewyn, be so good as to remind Theseus there are good and sensible stock here in Gordorf—and not just the Dacklefoys."

At this she gave me an odd look; her nose twitched and one eye seemed to bat uncontrollably. Even Aunt Winnie clasped and unclasped her hands. My gaze travelled from one to the other. Only Dorothy Ivanhallow remained impassively sweet and unbothered by the situation.

"It's time you rested, dear," she said, coming nearer. "You look weary, and what shall I say if the good doctor finds you in such a state?"

Mrs. Ivanhallow drew the sheets over her thin body. "You shall tell him nothing because I refuse to see him today. Let him come again when Clara's returned from her father. Only then will I bear that dreadful man; she keeps me in humour." And she gave Dorothy Ivanhallow such a firm look the latter was inclined to mutter, "As you wish," before ushering us from the room.

"Have Lia stay a while, Delewyn. She's a sensible girl and won't tire me so." Her wish was granted and I found myself seated across from her in the deep back armchair.

She sighed. "How I wish to be back in the comfort of my own home. It's this plaguing illness, you see. I've known it for months, but it never proved too much of a problem until—"

"The night Miss Palton arrived at Bedlaam."

She stared at me.

"Why, yes that was then, wasn't it?" She chuckled. "Ah, yes, yes it was. How good your memory is!" After a pause she gave a start, threw her sheets in a heap upon the floor and sprang to her feet. She hurried to the window. Peeping out the curtains she groaned then spun round to face me, her eyes wild with excitement.

"It's him!" She flailed her arms about. "Quick, child, to my room! Quickly now, I won't have him find me lying here. Lord knows that goodhearted woman won't send him away. Don't forget the sheets!"

Now if you can imagine a tall, motherly-like woman dashing along narrow corridors and climbing short flights of stairs with the bustle of a child, all because of a doctor she later said was 'so desperately trying that he made her queasy', then you'll have our beloved Ivanhallow; an image that would have made the average observer overcome with laughter.

Once in the safety of her room, she bade me bolt the door.

"Yes, there's a good girl, Lia, thank you. No, no, dear I'm not at all tired. Not in the least. Just settle on the ottoman and tell me something interesting. Wait a minute!"

She tiptoed across the room and put her ear against the door. A raised hand commanded me to hold my tongue and I sat stiffly on the sun flowered ottoman feeling absurdly awkward. This was so unlike my familiar Ivanhallow that I contemplated tackling the woman and calling the doctor at once.

It was only a thought of course.

"It seems Dorothy managed to be rid of him, didn't think she had it in her. I think she might be sweet on that man—quite a worrisome thought, if you understand. You can start now, dear, just let me get out the board. We'll have a quiet game while you talk. You've learnt to play, yes? I did advise you to take an interest in these sort of things. Such skills sharpen the mind in ways most others do not. A crying shame if you ask me...Now, what colour will you have?"

"White."

She chuckled. "White indeed! Well, here you go then." She wagged a finger. "But hear me well when I say it's not always good to be first, child. Patient study reveals much of your opponent's weaknesses and, if one is clever and observant, victory is almost always certain."

I smiled.

"I do not doubt your intellect in the least." I moved my pawn a space forward. "Tell me, do you have a logical explanation for every game you play? Or do you save them all for me?"

Her grey eyes flickered over the board.

"It's for you, child," she said at last, making a satisfied jump with her black horse. "I fear you may need it more than you think."

I laughed, bringing another pawn forward. "It appears the odds are against me. Uncle Jeff and Mr. Birch are convinced I am nearly lost to them. Ms. Cotts already thinks so, no doubt. Eres says I'm becoming a conceited 'high nose' with every journey home, and now you. Seems Aunt Winnie's the only one with some faith in me!"

Her forehead creased. "Nonsense, girl, they only mean to keep you from spoiling. You'll be no use to us then." She said after a pause, "You've met my cousin, Mr. Dayne, I presume?" 

"Yes, I have and was extraordinarily surprised that he came to Bedlaam to meet me. I learnt only afterwards that you'd written beforehand."

"Oh, yes," her tone was expressive. "Ms. Cotts informed me you had gotten the letters late. Only I know she forgot to give them to you because, like your father, you consider replying to your letters a duty. I'll send them to your uncle's in the future."

I didn't believe Ms. Cotts forgot to extend my letters at all but was ready to pardon her negligence since Mrs. Ivanhallow did not press the subject further.

"And what did you think of the old boy?" she said, deciding on her next move.

"I thought he was a pleasant old man. But I cannot help but feel there is something wanting in him, only I can't guess what it is." I paused. "He gave me the impression of being very clever."

"Now that he is, bless his heart," she said with a chuckle. "And his boy is the very incarnation of him, only with his mother's breadth of view. Such a sweet thing when he was young." 

Here she laughed with a twinkle in her eye before throwing me a look of caution. 

"You may need to be patient with him, Malia. He's rather opinionated, as you'll soon learn."

"I presume he is to be often at Bedlaam during the renovations?" I said thoughtfully 

She looked stupified. 

"He must! I need someone knowledgeable and trustworthy to oversee the workmen else they should put holes into my walls and forget to seal them, or worse," and this she added with a shudder, "they might ruin the plumbing!"

Her look was an indignant one. "You laugh, child but you know little of such things."

"Now, Mrs. Ivanhallow, I think you're being unfair," I said easily. "I can't recall a time when there weren't men going about our house with repairs. Papa has someone there four times a year and they don't go about ruining things. Their business is to repair damages, not add to them."

"I suppose in Olivington things are different among workmen, but tell me, has your uncle ever had someone at the cottage to fix something?"

"Goodness, no. Uncle prides himself on being quite handy. He does most things himself with a little help from Mr. Birch and friends from the lumberyard if he needs assistance."

"Well, see there, you know little of these men who call themselves carpenters and plumbers on our modest soil, Malia. You must keep both eyes on them. Oh dear, I wish I were well enough to look into the matter myself!"

She wrung her hands, then banged her wrinkled fist against the little table shaking the board.

"But that dreadful man won't write in that silly notebook he carries about that I am better. If I knew where to find his mother I'd tell her what an idiot her boy is!"

I moved my rook four places to the left. "Come, let us speak of other things. Disagreeable conversations make for a disagreeable game, you know."

"I suppose you're right. Ah! I see where you mean to cut off the king but now you leave your queen vulnerable and... there! You've lost the most valuable asset to the game."

My queen took her place among the other fallen soldiers.

"And how is Augustine Palton's girl getting on?"

"Well enough, I suppose."

She gave me a sharp look.

"She hasn't run off again I hope?"

"Again? You mean to say she's done it before?"

"Haven't they told you? Three times she ran off with the wind when you were at your father's. I expected it though. Augustine warned me in advance of her shortcomings, and running off is only one of them!

"But why should she have run away? She never did tell me. No one has."

Mrs. Ivanhallow looked thoughtfully at me.

"I will take you into my confidence, Malia, because I trust you."

She paused then nodded to herself.

"Yes, I will give you a few facts from Augustine's letters. He wrote when he found himself failing and was anxious to see that his girl was taken care of. Everything was in a bit of a scramble but it was enough for me to put two and two together. A pity he should have fallen ill just when he'd found someone to care for—the poor girl too! A father is what is wanting, I daresay...

"Augustine never stated how the child came to him but he was always a withdrawn man. He had a relation who'd been his first choice in taking the girl. She was rich with three children of her own and so handsomely positioned that his daughter could've been well advised, educated and cared for." Ivanhallow waved her hand. "But the woman was of a selfish nature, and wanted nothing to do with the girl; she couldn't care for any but her own. So much for family, eh?

"So he wrote to my husband, assuming he was still alive—they were good friends for an odd many years before Augustine began his wanderings. We hadn't heard from him in nearly fifteen years.

"Well, I responded promptly, and was informed of his predicament. I wasted no time in adjusting matters as his was a sad one: the house was to be sold off to clear some debts leaving the girl penniless. The little money left wasn't nearly enough to earn her an education in Leers. If only she could have had the house! She would've gotten along better somewhere out there than here. Gordorf is full of small minded people who are quite discriminative and bitter tongued."

"After I'd agreed to have her at Bedlaam, I wrote wishing to know something about her. Her peculiarities were far from few the most serious being running off, eating with her fingers, and climbing trees like a monkey! Imagine my shock on reading this! I imagined him laughing as he wrote the words for it seemed he enjoyed these unbecoming antics. He begged me to help her adapt to society as it was her only chance in attaining a nobler life from the poor one she suffered before."

Here she gave me a painful look.

"Yes, I imagined she suffered, only I couldn't imagine what until I saw those gold eyes staring out of that thin face. I lived long enough to know the tales that travel from those mountains. Morovis have a hard time there simply because they're valuable."

"You knew from a glance she was a Morovi? I found out when Ms. Petruny sent us hunting for mushrooms."

Mrs. Ivanhallow smiled. "I've lived a good many years longer than you, girl. You ought to remember that."

I sighed. "I ought to have read Papa's old books about them. I mean to when I get back."

Mrs. Ivanhallow only smiled at this and for a while silence reigned as our game continued.

I looked up at her. "Wait...whatever do you mean by valuable?"

She smiled at me but there was no mistaking the grief behind it.

"All things in due time, dear. All things in due time."

I frowned at this but didn't press the matter any further.

"I believe I have conquered you again, Lia," she said at last with a satisfied air.

I leaned away from the board.

"Quite naturally you should. You always do, but one day, I shall win."

"I'm sure you will, Theseus Malstoyke's daughter. I'm sure you will."

Once the table was cleared, I got her comfortably in bed.

"Lia?"

"Yes?"

"I trust you to keep what I've told you to yourself. Talk spreads faster than you can say the word in Gordorf and Quistelle's history ought to be left as a pondering fact."

"Absolutely."

"Has any of the girls taken a liking to her as yet?"

I hesitated. "Miss Partridge is very kind to her, it appears."

"That is to be expected, I should say. It is quite the way with that one, a finer young woman never slept under my roof. But what of the others? Do they fancy her?"

I shook my head. "None besides Phoebe and little Janie venture to speak to her but she bears it well—better than I could have."

She gave me a sympathetic look. "You're used to being liked by everyone, my dear. Augustine's girl is used to being alone or used, I imagine."

This made me think of how excited she'd been when I promised to be her friend.

Mrs. Ivanhallow frowned.

"To think there are eleven girls under my roof and only three show some decency, hmmf!"

She turned to me after a pause.

"Delewyn tells me you've taken a shine to her. I'm glad to hear it. But Malia, take her about with you whenever you can. The lower parts aren't exactly what I'd consider a worthy place for a young lady in her situation. Take her often to your uncle, he's a sensible man and will be a good source of education for our fair faced wanderer and your aunt will undoubtedly help cultivate her character. Help her along, Lia, for my sake, for her dear father's sake, for she is a rare thing and will need much looking after. Use your influence to guide her as best as you can and I will be most grateful."

How sweet and precious the charge to which I'd been called by the dear old woman who, though weary and ill, wished the best for the fatherless, motherless, and friendless Morovi beneath Bedlaam's roof. A soul whose situation was worse than any of the other girls sharing it! Mrs. Ivanhallow, the oldest, wisest, kindest mother I shall ever know in my years, grew dearer to me that minute as her weary eyes watched me hopefully. How could I refuse? And what's more, how could I fail?

"Thank you, dear. I know you'll do splendidly." She rested against the plush pillows as though a very great weight was lifted from her chest.

"Would you read a bit of Humer & Schiltz before I doze off? It's been some time since you've read for me..."

Anything for my dear Mrs. Ivanhallow.