Portrait of a Girl
“In the shadowed valley below, the mansion crouches square-faced beside a wind-driven copse of leafless trees. The vision is only momentary and quickly fades into a veil of drifting fog which finally resolves into something else — the cottage half a mile away that was to bring such beauty and tragedy into my life. Bushes wave in a thin breeze about its doors, swaying rhythmically to the haunted echo of singing.
For a few seconds I am a girl again, caught into the magic and mystery of the pas...t. I see Rupert riding through the fitful light to meet me.
And the pool.
It is still there, but the cottage has become an empty shell, and Kerrysmoor is no more.
A wave of chill suddenly floods me; then just as quickly it is gone, and I am real again, in a present I thought at times could never be.
The beginning of it all was so different. I had my ambitions, from an early age but they were the glittering fantastic dreams of childhood only — of riding like a princess in a shining chaise drawn by white-plumed horses through cheering crowds.MoreLess
For a few seconds I am a girl again, caught into the magic and mystery of the pas...t. I see Rupert riding through the fitful light to meet me.
And the pool.
It is still there, but the cottage has become an empty shell, and Kerrysmoor is no more.
A wave of chill suddenly floods me; then just as quickly it is gone, and I am real again, in a present I thought at times could never be.
The beginning of it all was so different. I had my ambitions, from an early age but they were the glittering fantastic dreams of childhood only — of riding like a princess in a shining chaise drawn by white-plumed horses through cheering crowds.MoreLess
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