TWO ·;,

when they explored the upstairs, they discovered that the area over the main room on the ground floor had been divided into three good-sized bedrooms. Two were merely larger versions of the monks' cells. But one of them, presumably that of the original Thatcher, was more furnished — not better furnished, just more. There were hunting prints and more animal heads on the walls and a large, molting bearskin rug on the floor next to the double bed. There were also two leather easy chairs and a desk that sat before a large window with a wonderful view out over the woods.

“I guess I'll put Livvy in here since the bride should have the best room," Jane said, "and move Dwayne in after the wedding. I'll put Mrs. Crossthwait in the middle one so she has plenty of room for her sewing and fittings. She's deaf enough that she won't be offended by sleeping next door to newlyweds. And I'll put Livvy's father at the far end, since he's the Big Cheese who's paying for everything. The other relatives and the bridal party can stay in the broom-closetsized rooms."

“I wonder where that dear Uncle Joe lives?" Shelley said.

“Probably in a cave somewhere," Jane said. "I was hoping he'd be enthusiastic, maybe even have the urge to be helpful. He is, after all, employed by the father of the bride and apparently has nothing to do most of the time."

“Then you'll have to just insist that he make himself useful," Shelley said. "What's over the monks' rooms?”

They crossed the landing at the top of the stairs and found a room that was a gigantic attic. It had a long row of dormers along the front side, so it could have been made into more sleeping quarters, but apparently there had been no need and it had become the catchall. There was a whole floor down, but nothing but the studs on the walls.