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welling up from the tender web of flesh between thumb and index finger and running down his wrist, and
spotting the white lace; and dripping to the table between the dark clenched fingers
He stood up, and I checked my vague impulse to go to him, and stood shivering by my chair. He
opened hi: hand, and a few more bits of glass fell to the table. Ht turned the hand palm up and looked at
it. It is nothing,
he said. Only that I am a fool. He strode off down the long table without looking at me; a door
opened in a gloomy corner, and he was gone.
After a moment I left the dining hall and went upstairs. My long stiff embroidered skirts seemed
heavier than usual, the sleeves and shoulders more binding. There was no sign of the Beast.
My evening was ruined. I liked reading by an open fire, so my room arranged to be cool enough that
a fire on the hearth was pleasant to sit beside. But tonight I couldn t concentrate on Catullus, who
seemed dull and petulant; I couldn t find a comfortable position in my chair; even me fire seemed sullen
and brooding. The first flaw in my happiness here, always the stronger of the two, struck me with
particular force. I thought of my family. Richard and Mercy were over a year old by now; they were
probably walking, and might have said their first words. They would have no recollection of the aunt who
had left over four months ago, I could see Hope, smiling, playing with the babies, tickling their faces and
bare feet with daisies. I thought of Ger, black to the elbows, with smudges on his face, holding a horse s
hoof balanced between his knees in his leather apron. I thought of Grace in the kitchen, her face
delicately flushed with the heat, and a golden curl or two escaping from its net. Then I saw my father,
whistling between his teeth, whit-ding a long pole so that the chips flew. My eyes filled with tears; but
they didn t spill over till I suddenly saw the house covered with roses, huge, beautiful roses of many
colours; somehow that was the worst of all. I laid my face in my arms and sobbed.
I woke up the next morning still tired; a headache pricked behind my eyes, and the fresh sunlight
pouring through my window tike a golden gift looked fiat and sour. The mood refused to lift. I ate, and
walked in the gardens, and read, and talked to the Beast, and galloped Greatheart through the green
meadows; but the picture of a small dun-coloured house, covered with hundreds of climbing roses,
drummed in my head and let me see nothing else.
At supper I was silent, as I had been for most of the day. The Beast had asked me several times if I
was unwell, if there was something troubling me; I had put him off each time with a few brusque or
impertinent words. Each time he looked away and forbore to press me. I felt guilty for the way I treated
him; but how could I tell him what was hurting me? I had agreed to come and live in his castle to save my
father s life, and I must abide by my promise. The Beast s subsequent kindness to me led me to hope
that one day he might set me free; but I did not think I could rightfully ask. At least not yet, after only four
months. But I longed so much to see my family that I could only remember to hold to my promise; I
could not always do it cheerfully.
I was staring into my teacup when the Beast asked me once more: Beauty. Please. Tell me what is
wrong. Perhaps I can help.
I looked up, irritated, my mouth open to tell him to leave me alone please: But something in his
expression stopped me. I flushed, ashamed of myself, and looked down again.
Beauty, repeated the Beast.
I I miss my family, I muttered.
The Beast leaned back in his chair and there was a pause. You would leave me then? he said; and
the hopelessness m his voice shook me even from the depths of my self-pity. I remembered for the first
time since my home-sickness had seized me the night before that he had no family to wish for. It is rather
lonesome here sometimes, he had said at our first meeting; and I had been able to pity him then, before I
had learned to like him. My friendship was worth little if I could forget it, and him, so quickly.
I would be very sorry never to see you anymore, I said. But you have been so kind to me that I
have I have occasionally wondered perhaps if perhaps if after some term is completed, that you
would might let me go. I would still wish to remain your friend. He was silent, and I went falteringly on:
I know it is too soon yet I have only been here a few months. I know I shouldn t have mentioned it. It
is very ungrateful of me and dishonourable, I said miserably. I didn t want to say anything I wasn t
going to but you kept asking what was wrong and I miss them so very much, and I caught myself up
on a sob.
I cannot let you go, said the Beast. I looked at him. Beauty, I m sorry. He seemed about to say
something more, but I gave him no time.
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