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"How's Rain?" I asked him.

"Oh, boy, she's prime. Wait until you set eyes on her," he said.

"Who are you two talking about?" Great-aunt Leonora asked, overhearing.

"My racehorse, Mrs. Endfield."

"You named a horse after this girl?"

"A-huh. And the horse is mighty proud of it, too," he said.

If I wasn't coming home to a funeral, I would have laughed aloud. It would be a while until I could smile and giggle again.

"I always forget just how big this estate is," my Great-aunt Leonora said as we drove up the circular driveway.

It really was a big house, I thought. Endfield Place could fit inside of Grandmother Hudson's home.

"Ostentatious," Great-uncle Richard muttered at the four large, tall columns holding up a front-gabled roof. "I always thought so. Americans always think bigger means better quality."

"I did always like the front door, Richard," Great-aunt Leonora insisted. The large front door had four panels and was surrounded on the sides and top by a narrow band of rectangular panes of glass held in a delicate, decorative frame.

Of course, there was a great deal more land than they had back in England and there was the small lake as well.

"Ours has more class," Great-uncle Richard insisted.

"Yes, yes of course it does," Great-aunt Leonora was happy to agree.

Sibling rivalry, I thought, even reached across the ocean.

We all got out and went into the house where we found Victoria having a cup of coffee, her head bent over a pile of documents spread over the dining room table. She looked up when we appeared. She was pale, her eyes dull, but she always looked that way to me. If she was devastated by Grandmother Hudson's death, it was a well-kept secret, I thought.

"Victoria," my great-aunt cried and held out her arms.

Victoria rose slowly. She seemed even taller and thinner than I remembered, and not that much time had passed. She was dressed in a faded pink housecoat and wore no makeup, no lipstick. Her dull brown hair hung limply at her ears.

"Hello, Aunt Leonora," she said, She didn't move toward her to embrace her. "Uncle Richard."

"Hello, Victoria. We're sorry about all this," he said nodding slightly toward me.

"It's a mess," she said, gazing down at the papers. Then she finally took Great-aunt Leonora's hand and gave her a quick embrace. She kissed Greatuncle Richard on the cheek.

Jake made some noise coming through the front door with the luggage.

"Oh, Jake," Victoria said, stepping into the hallway. "Put my aunt and uncle's things in my mother's room and her things," she added, nodding at me, "in the maid's room downstairs."

"Not her own room?" Jake challenged.

"Alison will want to be in her room," she said. She turned to me. "I'm sure that's all right with you, isn't it?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm really not worried about which room I have at the moment."

"How sweet. Okay, Jake. Thanks," she told him and returned to the dining room table. "I've got some hot coffee if you'd like some," she told the Endfields. "Or I can put on some water for tea."

"What happened to Frances's maid?"

"Mother hasn't had a maid for some time now," Victoria replied, glancing at me. "There was a nurse here from time to time, but that didn't last either."

"Well, who's going to provide for us?" Greataunt Leonora asked with a frantic tone in her voice.