'There.' She pointed. 'Beside his father.'

'There is no name.'

'Yes, well.' She smiled faintly, stepping forward. 'There is an explanation. It was the plague, you see. A month from Richard's death the plague came to Exbury, and the village mason was among the many who died. It was more than a year before they found another mason, and by that time Richard's nephew Arthur was installed at the manor house, and did not wish to spend his money to have the stone carved.'

'The plague came here?'

'Oh, yes. It was quite devastating. One out of every three people died of it, I believe. Nearly wiped the village from the map.'

'But Mariana lived.' I smiled humorlessly at the cold stone slab beneath my feet.

'Yes. Of course,' she qualified, 'she was not here, then. She went away, with Caroline, for several months.'

'I see.' I was only half listening. 'What happened to the ring?'

'Which ring?'

'Richard's silver ring, with the crest upon it. He gave it to Mariana, to remember him by.'

'Oh, that.' She nodded. 'Come, and I'll show you.'

I followed her out of the stale, silent church, and into the clear morning sunlight. The rain had stopped at last, and the world was fresh and clean and sweetly scented. High overhead the hawk was sailing, shrill-voiced and graceful, feathers spread to catch the rising currents in the air. By the churchyard wall, Mrs. Hutherson stopped walking and pointed downward. 'There,' she said. 'That's where the ring is, now.'

We were standing on Mariana's grave.

'She wore it always,' she continued. 'On a chain around her neck. John Howard found it when she died, and had her buried with it.'

'John ..." I shook my head slightly, trying to clear my muddled thoughts. 'But John Howard died in infancy. Jabez killed him. I saw it happen.'

'Yes.' She slanted an odd look at me. 'Curious, isn't it? Come along, now. It's time you had a cup of good, strong tea, and something to cat.'

I obeyed mechanically, without really thinking, and a short while later found myself once again ensconced in my chair in the manor-house kitchen, facing Mrs. Hutherson across the familiar teapot. The breakfast she made me was large and appetizing, but I chewed my food without tasting it, my mind drifting stubbornly back to that single point.

'John Howard died,' I said again. And yet, John Howard had lived to bury Mariana, some sixty years later. And John Howard had once owned the lap desk that I had bought at the estate sale, the desk that had held the gilt bracelet ringed with blue-eyed birds of paradise....

'Five people knew of the child's death,' she pointed out, counting them off on her fingers. 'Jabez Howard, who also died that night. Mariana and Caroline, who concealed it. And Richard de Mornay's two servants, the steward and the maid, both of whom kept the secret.'

I shook my head. 'But why? Why would anyone bother to ...' The answer struck me suddenly, and I lifted my eyes, startled. 'Oh, Lord.'

Mrs. Hutherson refilled my teacup. 'Could you not feel the child, inside you?'

'No. I mean, I didn't pay much attention to it.'

'Caroline knew.' Her tone was firm. 'She even helped in her own way. She went away with Mariana, into the country, just the two of them. And when they returned to Exbury in the spring, to Greywethers, they brought with them a baby called John. There was hardly anyone left who could remember the child, or judge with certainty his age. So Mariana kept Richard's baby, and her reputation, and Caroline—Caroline kept her Johnnie.'

I stared silently into my untouched cup of tea. 'I'd love to have seen him,' I said, finally. 'Richard's child.'

'You can see him, if you want to.'

'How?'

'My dear'—her eyes were kind—'you are not stuck in time, though it may seem that way. It's true your recollections have all followed a chronological order—what happened in September then, will happen in September now, that's true. But you have already skipped ahead, on one occasion.'

I blinked at her. 'I have?'

'The stables,' she said. 'Remember? You went inside the stables once, and saw Richard's horse. Well, that was a memory out of order. It happened in May, as I recall, but at that time in 1665 Mariana hadn't even arrived in Exbury.' She looked at me to make certain I was following along. 'The scene that you remembered was a later one, from the following year.'

I tried to remember the exact incident. I had gone inside the stables, and I had seen Navarre standing in his stall. That much I remembered. And then ...

'Someone was whistling,' I recalled suddenly. 'Outside. It sounded like Evan Gilroy.'

'Anyhow,' she went on, 'it is possible to see episodes from different times in your life as Mariana Farr, if you want to. Just try it, and you'll see. But,' she warned, 'you haven't much time left."

'What do you mean?'

She leveled her gaze on mine. 'You remember I told you that your journey was a circle?'

'Yes.' I nodded. 'You said that I had to go all the way round before I'd understand the purpose of it all.'

'Right. Well, the circle is almost closed. And in a short while, perhaps a very short while, you won't be able to live Mariana's life anymore.'

I stared at her. 'You mean I'll forget what happened?'

'Heavens, no.' She hastened to reassure me. 'No, those memories are a part of your essential makeup, Julia, you'll never forget them. You just won't be able to live them anymore, you understand?'