I listened to the gentleman ahead, Gabriel Conroy, as he told me the story of what had brought him here today. He had begun first with the party his wife, and he had attended. It reminded me so much of those that I had helped throw in Darlington Hall. I wondered then if this man had ever been under my services at Darlington Hall, as he did seem to be quite a standup fellow – aside from the fact that this man was very clearly Irish bred and born. Not that I have a problem with the Irish; it is just they so often have a problem with the English. But not this gentleman. He is quite special in his own position – and most dignified. In fact, he appeared to have a dignified personality that resembled most English men I know.

‘I beg your pardon, sir. I do not mean to interrupt your tale – as I am most interested in it. However, I must ask where you come from. I do not mean to insult you, and I understand from your tone that you are Irish, but your demeanor tells me that you are an Englishman.’ I said to him, trying to approach politely. Some Irish folk can be quite sensitive about their country. Luckily, he said:

‘Why yes, I am Irish. However, I have traveled extensively within the United Kingdom, and I write a literary column for The Daily Express every Wednesday.’

After his response, he seemed to be puzzled by the fact that he had spewed forth for a moment. Yet, he eventually got his wits about him and continued on about his tale once again. I wondered if his work had been an issue of great pain for him perhaps. I did not mean to intrude with my questioning. I can see how work could be troubling for the gentleman. I relate on my own accord. I am endlessly proud of my work. I served Lord Darlington with the best years of my life. I only wonder if they may have been spent better – perhaps if Mrs Benn had remained Miss Kenton. That is, if she had remained with me at Darlington Hall. However tempting that thought may be, it is fleeting and dishonest. Mrs Benn lives a happy life. Separate from all of the hustle and bustle that remains at Darlington Hall. And I, too, have found my own path away from Darlington Hall – at least, I do hope to find the electricity if I ever do escape this churchyard.
The gentleman proceeded to divulge an epiphany that he had experienced that night regarding his wife. As he continued, all I could think was how insulted I was that he had ever compared us. How could we have ever been in similar states of mind? I am sure this man had honorable intentions with his wife, but from the sounds of it he could not be farther from the ideal sutor. I find it hard to understand why this man ever thought he was a good husband. I suppose I am no expert on the issue – I never was a husband. But perhaps, in one view, you could say I was married to my work. I served and protected the grounds of Darlington Hall to the absolute best of my ability, and is that not what a husband provides unto a wife?

Maybe my relationship with Darlington Hall was less of a convent of marriage than it was like a parent and child. I loved Darlington Hall, and I still do. But I do not believe I ever fancied Darlington Hall in the way a husband does a wife. No, I have only fancied one like that before. It was a terrifying ordeal to say the least.

That’s when I realized I was doing it again. I keep doing this, don’t I? I can hear Mrs Benn’s words rattling in my head:

‘One can’t be forever dwelling on what might have been. One should realize one has as good as most, perhaps better, and be grateful.’

It did not really settle until now, but I finally understood the message that she wished to convey. I shall, Mrs Benn, I shall. In doing so, my first action was to escape the dreadful conversation and company of Gabriel Conroy. I do not wish to remain dwelling on this time, wishing I had escaped but never had.

‘If you’ll excuse me, sir. It was a pleasure to meet you, but I must go now. Take care, sir.’ I said as I rose from my position. I left the churchyard that afternoon with damaged trousers but a much more content person as I had finally escaped that dreadful dwelling and buried it in the churchyard.