"Patsy and I will meet him," Jims offered eagerly, then his face fell. "Oh! We don't know what he looks like!"
"No," said Fee. "I'll meet him myself. On my own. I'm not in my dotage yet; I can still drive to Gilly."
"Mum's right," said Meggie firmly, forestalling a chorus of protests from her brothers. "Let Mum meet him on her own. She's the one ought to see him first."
"Well, I have work to do," said Fee gruffly, getting up and moving toward her desk.
The five brothers rose as one man. "And I reckon it's our bedtime," said Bob, yawning elaborately. He smiled shyly at Cardinal Ralph. "It will be like old times, to have you saying Mass for us in the morning."
Meggie folded her knitting, put it away, got up. "I'll say good night, too, Ralph."
"Good night, Meggie." His eyes followed her as she went out of the room, then turned to Fee's hunched back. "Good night, Fee." "I beg your pardon? Did you say something?"
"I said good night."
"Oh! Good night, Ralph."
He didn't want to go upstairs so soon after Meggie. "I'm going for a walk before I turn in, I think. Do you know something, Fee?" "No." Her voice was absent.
"You don't fool me for a minute."
She snorted with laughter, an eerie sound. "Don't I? I wonder about that." Late, and the stars. The southern stars, wheeling across the heavens. He had lost his hold upon them forever, though they were still there, too distant to warm, too remote to comfort. Closer to God, Who was a wisp between them. For a long time he stood looking up, listening to the wind in the trees, smiling.
Reluctant to be near Fee, he used the flight of stairs at the far end of the house; the lamp over her desk still burned and he could see her bent silhouette there, working. Poor Fee. How much she must dread going to bed, though-perhaps when Frank came home it would be easier. Perhaps. At the top of the stairs silence met him thickly; a crystal lamp on a narrow hall table shed a dim pool of light for the comfort of nocturnal wanderers, flickering as the night breeze billowed the curtains inward around the window next to it. He passed it by, his feet on the heavy carpeting making no sound.
Meggie's door was wide open, more light welling through it; blocking the rays for a moment, he shut her door behind him and locked it. She had donned a loose wrapper and was sitting in a chair by the window looking out across the invisible Home Paddock, but her head turned to watch him walk to the bed, sit on its edge. Slowly she got up and came to him.
"Here, I'll help you get your boots off. That's the reason I never wear knee ones myself. I can't get them off without a jack, and a jack ruins good boots."
"Did you wear that color deliberately, Meggie?" "Ashes of roses?" She smiled. "It's always been my favorite color. It doesn't clash with my hair."
He put one foot on her backside while she pulled a boot off, then changed it for the bare foot.
"Were you so sure I'd come to you, Meggie?"
"I told you. On Drogheda you're mine. Had you not come to me, I'd have gone to you, make no mistake." She drew his shirt over his head, and for a moment her hand rested with luxurious sensitivity on his bare back, then she went across to the lamp and turned it out, while he draped his clothes over a chair back. He could hear her moving about, shedding her wrapper. And tomorrow morning I'll say Mass. But that's tomorrow morning, and the magic has long gone. There is still the night, and Meggie. I have wanted her. She, too, is a sacrament.
Dane was disappointed. "I thought you'd wear a red soutane!" he said. "Sometimes I do, Dane, but only within the walls of the palace. Outside it, I wear a black soutane with a red sash, like this."
"Do you really have a palace?"
"Yes."
"Is it full of chandeliers?"
"Yes, but so is Drogheda."
"Oh, Drogheda!" said Dane in disgust. "I'll bet ours are little ones compared to yours. I'd love to see your palace, and you in a red soutane." Cardinal Ralph smiled. "Who knows, Dane? Perhaps one day you will." The boy had a curious expression always at the back of his eyes; a distant look. When he turned during the Mass, Cardinal Ralph saw it reinforced, but he didn't recognize it, only felt its familiarity. No man sees himself in a mirror as he really is, nor any woman.
Luddie and Anne Mueller were due in for Christmas, as indeed they were every year. The big house was full of light-hearted people, looking forward to the best Christmas in years; Minnie and Cat sang tunelessly as they worked, Mrs. Smith's plump face was wreathed in smiles, Meggie relinquished Dane to Cardinal Ralph without comment, and Fee seemed much happier, less glued to her desk. The men seized upon any excuse to make it back in each night, for after a late dinner the drawing room buzzed with conversation, and Mrs. Smith had taken to preparing a bedtime supper snack of melted cheese on toast, hot buttered crumpets and raisin scones. Cardinal Ralph protested that so much good food would make him fat, but after three days of Drogheda air, Drogheda people and Drogheda food, he seemed to be shedding the rather gaunt, haggard look he had worn when he arrived.
