Chloe's mother welcomes me, saying, "So this is Yiseul. Ah, you're so pretty."

Compliment indeed, from the beautiful, elegant woman. I have come a long way since my Ravenscrag days! 

My room is in one of the towers and is filled with massive old-fashioned furniture, including a large four-poster bed. 

"I am sorry that it looks like an antique shop," Chloe says, "but everything we have is old and shabby. The place looks like a morgue."

"I think it's lovely,' I say, and I mean it. 

Chloe is looking slightly embarrassed. 

"I did not tell you before," she says hesitantly. "I didn't want Madame to know, but ... well, the truth is ... we let accommodation during the summer. It helps, you see, and this big house,"she spreads her hands, "so much of it is empty most of the year."

"Why not?" I exclaim. "It's a thing lots of people do nowadays. Have you some guests here now? I hope they're nice people." 

Chloe perks up at once. 

"Two guys, my mum says. They are studying forestry. I haven't seen them, but I hope that they are nice. At least, they are guys. Last summer we had some old women, tourists, who asked such boring questions."

"Forestry? Wouldn't that be boring as well for you?" I laugh. "They'd be talking about forests all day."

We won't be able to see the lodgers until the evening, for it is their practice to take lunch with them and stay out all day. 

I have lunch with Chloe's parents. Mr. Lee is a gentleman, courtly and aristocratic. 

"Once we possessed the finest chateau in the country," he says, sighing, "but times change, and I can no longer afford the upkeep of the place."

"It's a beautiful place," I say. 

"It will have to be sold soon. Chloe does not care about it, she is all for life in the town, and I have no son to inherit it." 

I think of Ravenscrag. If only I had been a boy, it would have come to me, and I could have loved, and cherished it. 

And suddenly I think, perhaps Mark, like Chloe, would not care for life on a country estate. 

The thought chills me.

But he can't sell it without my consent, and I would never agree to selling it. The thought is comforting, and I cling to it, and after a while, my anxiety abates.

Evening comes, and I find Chloe going through her wardrobe in her room. However bad the family circumstances have become, her parents have continued to indulge her, and she has plenty of clothes. 

She is deciding what she should wear to impress the foresters. 

"It's the first impression that counts," she grins. "I wish to appear irresistible."

"You may be wasting your efforts," I say, smiling. "Very likely they'll be plain and very dull, and only interested in trees."

Chloe's eyes gleam wickedly. 

"When they see me they will forget about trees."

She finally selects a scarlet dress with transparent sleeves, the skirt reaching her ankles. With her black hair piled on top of her head, long dangling earrings, and a gold necklace around her slender throat, she looks more than striking. She has made up her eyes with long lines from the outer corners to give them an extra slant, and on her feet are delicate silvery high-heels. 

"You look like Cleopatra," I say in awe.

She sways sinuously. 

"If only one of them looks like Antony!"

I giggle. 

I am wearing my green silk and very little makeup. I feel pale and insignificant beside Chloe's magnificence, my only ornament the silver bracelet with its lucky charms. 

We sit down to dinner promptly at seven. Mr. Lee looks very distinguished in a crisp white evening suit, while his wife exudes class and elegance in an ash-coloured silk gown.

"Our guests are late." 

Mr. Lee frowns, glancing at the grandfather clock.

Hurried footsteps proclaim that the guests are aware of their fault. A young man bursts into the room. 

"Caspian won't be a moment,' he says in English. "The landrover broke down on our way back and he got covered in grease. It takes a bit of getting off, oh I say - " he breaks off self-consciously as he sees Chloe. 

"My daughter, Chloe," Mr. Lee says repressively. "This, my dear, is Mr. Alistair Brown." 

"How do you do," Alistair says, ing out a hand, staring at Chloe in open-mouthed admiration.

He's tall and fair, but there his resemblance to Chloe's dream stops short. He is fresh-faced and snub-nosed, with a pair of glasses perched on his nose. 

So much for Antony. 

He hardly looks at me, plainly dazzled by Chloe, and shakes my hand absently. 

Chloe raises her eyebrows at me, and seems to say, "Hardly Antony, but better than nothing."

I smile to myself.

Idly, I wonder what Caspian would be like. 

We start on the soup, and Alistair launches into a detailing of what he does in the forest, and  a lengthy explanation on misshapen trees, and clearing brushwood, his eyes on Chloe.

After a while, Chloe's eyes start to glaze over, and that is when the trout is brought in.

At the exact moment, the newcomer slips in, quietly and smoothly.

He murmurs a quiet apology to Mrs. Lee, declines her offer of soup, and stands behind the vacant seat beside Chloe, and across from me. 

He throws a startled glance towards Chloe as her father makes the introductions. 

"Mr. Caspian Jeong - Miss Jung Yiseul, my daughter Chloe." 

Caspian bows gracefully, before taking his seat. 

"Mr. Jeong, I am delighted to make your acquaintance," Celeste cries vivaciously, misshapen trees and brushwood forgotten in an instant. 

"I am equally delighted to meet you, but please call me Caspian," he says smoothly, smiling into her eyes.

"Of course, Caspian, and you must call me Chloe," she says huskily. I wonder how long she took to practise that tone.

"Caspian," she says animatedly, looking flushed, and very pretty, "what an unusual name. Isn't it, Yiseul?" She turns to me, sparkling, beautiful.

The merest flicker of golden brown eyes in my direction, eyes that are so achingly, heartstoppingly familiar. 

"Yiseul ... like Isolde, from the Cornish legend?" he says softly, his enigmatic eyes on me. 

I look down, my cheeks hot, my heart thudding.

Does he remember me?

Chloe claps her hand excitedly.

"Now why didn't I think of that? Yiseul, Isolde...yes, they do sound the same, don't they? Yiseul is rather uncommon too."

"I've heard it before..." he says, his eyes resting on me, a ghost of a smile playing upon his lips.

Does he mean that he has recognised me?

He turns away, and shifts his attention to Chloe. 

Caspian.

The name I should have learned long ago if I had had my wits about me. 

Naturally he would not have an ordinary name like Tom, or Harry. 

I grip my palms tight under the table, remembering in a flash of agony all that I had told him about myself below the cliff at Ravenscrag. How much of the conversation did he remember? 

No wonder he had laughed at my naivete.

I had been a child, but now that I am much more sophisticated, I would be able to meet him on equal terms. 

I take a bite of the trout, and chew it.

It tastes like rubber.

I have lost all my appetite.