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Автор Аня Сетон

Dragonwyck, May 19th, 1844.

My dear Cousin Abigail:

Though we have never met, we are related, as you doubtless know, through our mutual grandmother, Annetje Gaansevant.

My wife and I, having discussed the matter at some length, have decided to invite one of your daughters into our home for an extended visit. We shall naturally be able to offer her many advantages which she could not hope to enjoy in her present station. In return, if she pleases, she may occasionally occupy herself with the teaching of our six-year-old child, Katrine, but she will in all ways be treated as befits my kinswoman.

I have had inquiries made and was gratified to find that you and your husband enjoy the honor and respect of your little community. Be so good as to let me know at your earliest convenience which of your daughters you select, and I will make all suitable arrangements for her journey to Dragonwyck.

Believe me, madam, your sincere friend and cousin.

Respectfully yours,

Nicholas Van Ryn

Miranda read the letter twice before turning in amazement to her mother. 'I don't understand this at all, Ma. Who in the world is Nicholas Van Ryn?'

'He is, I believe, a very grand personage,' answered Abigail with a half-smile. 'He is lord of a large manor up on the Hudson River somewhere near Albany. '

'And you're his cousin?' persisted Miranda, still more astonished.

'It would seem so,' replied Abigail dryly. 'I remember my mother telling me of the Van Ryns, though I haven't thought of them in years. Bring me the Patterson Bible. '

Miranda moved toward the shelf where her father kept his ponderous Bible.

'No, not that one, child,' Abigail stopped her.

'That one has no records from my side. I want the Bible I brought with me at my marriage. It's in the attic next your Grandfather Patterson's musket and powder horn. '

When Miranda had brought the great gilt-edged volume, they examined the records on the fly leaves between the Old and New Testaments.

It was clear enough. Annetje Gaansevant of Rensselaer County, New York, had in 1779 married Adriaen Van Ryn, patroon of the Van Ryn manor, and borne him a son, Cornelius, who must be the father of Nicholas.

Then after Adriaen Van Ryn's death, Annetje had married again, a Connecticut Yankee named Patterson, and thereupon produced a great many children, the eldest of whom had been Abigail's mother.

'So this Nicholas' grandmother is also my great-grandmother,' cried Miranda at last. 'I had no idea I had such fine relations. ' She looked down at her tapering hands. She had always privately thought them aristocratic, and it was pleasant to have confirmation.

'You haven't a scrap of Van Ryn blood,' snorted Abigail, 'so you needn't go puffing like a peacock. The connection is only through the Gaansevants; Dutch farmers they were like ourselves. And it's just as well, for the Van Ryns are a wild, strange lot with some kind of a skeleton in their closet, for all their money and land and hoity-toity ways. '

'Truly, Ma?' cried Miranda, her hazel eyes sparkling. 'How vastly romantic! Do tell me, please. '