He said. “What a happy day it was when I stopped at the Green Man. Do you know I almost went to the Cat and Fiddle. Suppose I had? I should not have been in the street… I should never have noticed the girl pretending to be blind … never have rescued you … never have been here tonight dancing with you.”

“And where should I be?”

“Don’t think of that. I was just marvelling at the good fortune which has brought me here. Your father still thinks of it. I heard him talking to Lord Pettigrew.”

“He won’t let it rest. He has many concerns in London. If it is possible to find out who those people were … he will.”

“They are probably out of the country now.”

“Do you think so?”

“In that sort of criminal underworld you never know what is going on.”

“My father is the sort of man who would never let any detail escape him. He doesn’t go so much to London now that he is getting older, though. But he was in all sorts of things earlier … and so was his son, Jonathan. We hear whispers of it in the family. I think perhaps Jonathan would be more suited to that sort of work than running an estate … just like his father was. Some people have the temperament… others haven’t. Amaryllis has quite a gift. She goes round the estate with her father. She has a gentle personality and the people like her. I have heard David say that you have to establish a relationship with the people on the estate. It is not merely a matter of keeping down rents and repairing homes. It’s a sort of comradeship as well. Amaryllis has that gift, her father says. Her parents think she is quite perfect. Mind you, they are not far wrong. In our family there are the good and docile ones and the wild rebellious ones. Amaryllis and I are good examples of both types.”

“I think you are both enchanting.”

“But different.”

“Well, of course.”

“You dance well. Where did you learn?”

“I was sent to school in England and then I had a year in the North with some cousins where I was supposed to learn how to live in graceful society.”

“That was before you went out to help your father in Jamaica?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, they certainly taught you well.”

“Dancing or the social conduct required in English society?”

“Both.”

“It is amazing to remember that we have known each other such a short time.”

“Yes, but we have seen each other frequently since our first meeting.”

“I’m grateful to Enderby.”

“How are you liking it in that great barn of a house?”

“I like very much what is close to it.”

“How long shall you stay?”

“It depends.”

“You mean on what you find here? Have you discovered anything that might be suitable?”

“To tell the truth I’ve hardly had time to look—what with the Christmas festivities and the kind hospitality of my good neighbours. I like Enderby.”

“Do you? It’s amazing how people become fascinated by it. There was my Aunt Sophie. She saw it and immediately wanted it.”

“It is a family house really.”

“Of course. Far too big for one.”

“It would change completely … with many children.”

“You are right. We should look for a married couple with a considerable brood.”

“The marriage need not be of long duration. The house could wait for the patter of little feet.”

I laughed. This was exciting. I thought he was going to ask me then. And what should I say? Could I say, It is too soon. I am not yet sure …

The dance was over and the servants were bringing round cooling drinks.

We sat for a while and then he said: “Excuse me. I am engaged to your niece for this one.”

I watched him dancing with Amaryllis. She was laughing and talking quite animatedly. I was glad that she liked him too.

Edward came and sat beside me.

Peter was a gracious host at Enderby on Boxing Day. Amaryllis and I congratulated ourselves on the decorations which we had helped to put up; and I must say the old house seemed to have lost entirely that dour ghostliness which had been such a feature of it in the past.

Peter had devised a very clever treasure hunt through the house and this provided a great deal of merriment for he had wittily phrased the clues which led from one spot to another. It was rather uncanny to hear the old house echoing with laughter.

There was a good deal in what David always said, and Peter had seconded it, that with people in the house Enderby would be just like any other.

“I never thought we should have a jolly time in this house,” said my mother.

“You’ve laid the ghost,” my father told Peter.

It was two days later when Peter had been riding with Amaryllis and me and on the way home came into Eversleigh for a glass of wine before going on to Enderby.

We were in the hall. My parents were with us and so were Claudine and David—when one of the servants came in and said that Farmer Weston wanted to see my father—and added that Farmer Weston seemed rather upset.

“Bring him in,” said my father, and Farmer Weston came into the hall. He certainly looked agitated.

“I want to have a word with you in private, sir,” he said.

“You can say what you have to say here. Anything wrong at the farm?”

“No sir … not exactly. It’s my Lizzie and … another. I’d rather talk in private.”

“Come on in here then.” My father led him into the room we called the winter parlour.

They were there for about ten minutes before they came out—Farmer Weston was very red in the face and my father looked quite angry, not with Farmer Weston though for he said to him quite gently: “Don’t worry. I’ll speak to him. Perhaps no harm’s done. Young people …”

He went out with Farmer Weston and soon afterwards joined us. My mother looked at him interrogatively.

“That scamp Jonathan,” he said.

“What is it this time?”

“Weston’s Lizzie.”

“She’s only a child. What is she? Fourteen or so?”

“That makes it worse. Jonathan’s not much older. That boy’s got a few things to learn. If he’s got to sow his wild oats he’d better choose somewhere else to do it—not on my land.”

My mother looked at my father and then at Peter.

“I’m sorry about his,” she said.

“Well,” said my father. “Young people. Hot blood. These things happen. I had a job to calm down Weston.”

Peter, showing a slight embarrassment as though he realized he had strayed into something which my father would have wished to be private, said he must be going and took his leave.

“He has impeccable manners,” said my mother. “Dickon, need you have blurted that out in front of him?”

“You asked me and I told you. Nothing very unusual about it. I think we shall have some more of that sort of trouble from Jonathan. Or the Pettigrews will. I was wondering if I ought to speak to Millicent or her father.”

My mother said: “You know Millicent. She can see no wrong in her boy. And Lord Pettigrew is too softly spoken. Now Lady Pettigrew … No, Dickon, you are the one who will strike fear into his wicked little heart. You’ll have to do it.”

“He’s his father all over again.”

“Well, Jonathan was a fine worker and he died nobly,” said Claudine.

“Yes, but all this philandering doesn’t go down well on the estate.”

“You are quite content for him to do it elsewhere?” I said.

“My dear girl, you know nothing about these matters.”

“Weston’s a good man,” said David. “His farm is a model for some of them.”

“And now he’s going to worry about his Lizzie,” put in my father. “If she presents us with a baby in nine months’ time, our Jonathan will be in trouble.”

“I suppose that was why Weston came to see you at once,” said David. “He wants you to know that Jonathan is responsible.”

“The young can be a plaguey nuisance,” said my father. “He’s got to mend his ways. I’ll not have Eversleigh going to someone who is going to play ducks and drakes with it… that’s for certain. His father was no good on the estate.”