We sat in the drawing room drinking tea.

It was a warm October day and the French windows were wide open. The smell of burning leaves floated in to us and every now and then I saw a man pass to and fro, a long fork in his hand, picking up leaves and conveying them to the bonfire.

This was Toby Mann—a newcomer to the gardening staff. Old Robert, whom the Barringtons had brought with them from Nottingham, had died and Toby had come along at the right moment and taken the job. I had heard he was a very good worker. He did a little boxing and was known as the Champion by the servants. I was thinking of Jake, as I often did, and wondering if he was thinking of me. Was he planning to go to Cornwall? How I wished I could go with him! Should I take Tamarisk for a visit? How could I? It was too far away. If Tamarisk went Leah would have to go with her. That thought filled me with misgivings. Leah had been very fond of Jake. I expected she still was. She was a very beautiful woman and would be single-minded in her devotion.

Amaryllis was talking animatedly about her children and I fancied Peter listened with a kind of indulgent impatience. Perhaps he had heard accounts of their extraordinary prowess before.

He said suddenly: “Poor Jonathan seems a little melancholy these days.”

“It was that affair in London,” said Amaryllis. “You were there, weren’t you, Jessica?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you think your father will send him back to Pettigrew Hall?” asked Peter.

“I don’t think so. It will blow over.”

“There is little sign of it at the moment,” said Amaryllis. “Oh, I do wish they did not have to have all these quarrels.”

“A little discord I suppose is inevitable in the best regulated families,” said Peter. “What was the girl like, Jessica? I don’t remember ever seeing her at the house.”

“You wouldn’t notice her,” said Amaryllis almost teasingly.

“I confess I never did.”

“She hadn’t been there long. I thought she looked quiet and rather shy,” I said.

“And young Jonathan took advantage of that, eh?”

“He swears he didn’t.”

“Well, I suppose he would, wouldn’t he?”

“Not Jonathan. He’s amazingly frank. He told me seriously that she had come into his room of her own accord.”

“Why should she do that?” asked Amaryllis.

“Because, my dear, Jonathan is a very personable young man,” Peter explained. “That’s so, is it not, Jessica?”

“I don’t know much about these matters. If you say so, I suppose it is.”

“Well, his allure got him into serious trouble this time. I somehow don’t think it is going to blow over.”

“He is the heir, after David,” I said.

“Don’t forget we have our little Peterkin now. That has undermined the dashing Jonathan’s claim to the throne somewhat.”

Edward said: “It’s a sad business. From what I understand on the face of it it would seem that he summoned the girl… but things are often not what they seem.”

He was looking ahead of him and I felt a twinge of alarm. I was beginning to look for double meanings in all his remarks.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” put in Peter, “and perhaps it would be a good thing, if Jonathan was asked to slip gracefully out.”

“I agree with Jessica. He is the heir. After all his father would presumably have had a share in Eversleigh had he lived. Jonathan could become quite steady once he has his responsibilities.”

I smiled at Edward. He was so balanced in his judgments, and he always had a special word for the oppressed. It was hard to think of Jonathan in that category, but in this instance he was generally looked upon as the one to blame.

I said: “My mother and I are rather concerned about the girl. We have been wondering where she went when she left the house.”

“Poor child,” said Peter. “I do think this will set his grandfather against Jonathan more than ever.”

Tea was brought. I served our guests and then took Edward’s over to him. He smiled at me tenderly.

There was a little shelf which could be placed across the chair and which we found very useful. This had been set up and I placed the cup on it. But as I turned away my sleeve must have caught in the shelf and the cup went over; the shelf was dragged off the chair. Edward made an effort to save it and fell from the chair to the floor.

I cried out in dismay. Peter dashed over. Edward lay on the floor, looking very pale and I guessed he was in pain.

I said: “Call James. He knows the right way to lift Edward.”

Peter was trying to help Edward to rise and I could see we needed James’ expert hands.

He came to us and his face was creased in consternation when he saw Edward. He half lifted him and then gave a little cry. Edward was back on the floor and James was writhing in agony.

“What’s happened, James?” I asked.

“I’ve strained something. It’s my back. I can’t move without excruciating pain.”

“Let me help,” said Peter.

“It needs two,” said James.

“Toby is outside,” I cried. “I’ll get him.” I ran to the window where I could see Toby wreathed in the smoke from the bonfire.

“Toby,” I cried, “come quickly.”

He came running and, taking one look at Edward, he saw at once what was required of him.

“We want to get Mr. Barrington into his chair, Toby,” said James.

“Right,” said Toby. Peter stood by. “Best manage on my own, sir,” added Toby and, with the greatest of ease it seemed, he picked up Edward and sat him gently in his chair.

“Edward,” I said, “are you all right?”

“Yes, quite. It’s poor James I’m thinking of.”

James’ face was white and I saw the sweat glistening on his skin. He said: “It’ll pass.”

He was about to wheel Edward’s chair across the room. I said: “I am sure Toby would do that. You’re going to find it difficult, James. Do you know what’s happened?”

“I’ve done it before. It can come suddenly. But it will pass. All I need is a little rest.”

“Then for heaven’s sake take it. What about Toby’s coming to give you a hand?”

Toby smiled: “I’d like that, Mrs. Barrington.”

“I thought you were so fond of your work in the garden?”

“I am … but if I could be of more use …”

“You could, I believe. The others can weed and make bonfires. James, you ought to rest I’m sure. And Edward, you’ve had a shock. You go along and help with Mr. Barrington, Toby.”

James looked relieved, though a little ashamed of himself for being so weak as to have an ailment. He was the sort of man who would pretend it didn’t exist.

Peter said: “Let me help.”

“We can manage, sir,” said Toby, his expression showing the delight he felt to be of such use.

“I’ll come with you, Edward,” I said. And to the others: “Excuse me.”

Edward said. “No. You stay. Don’t fuss, Jessica. I’ll be perfectly all right.”

I nodded. I always obeyed Edward on such occasions.

The door closed on them.

“Poor Edward,” said Peter.

“It is so sad,” murmured Amaryllis, no doubt comparing my barren life with her fruitful one.

“It was good that the bonfire man appeared so fortuitously,” said Peter.

“He seemed very eager to help,” added Amaryllis.

And as I sat there, the smell of burning leaves permeating the air, and talked in a desultory way, I thought how fortunate they were to have met, loved and married and to have two beautiful children to prove the success of their union.

Then I looked ahead to my own future. As far as I could see it would go on like this for ever.

Edward was none the worse for his fall. He said he was pleased that it had happened because it had brought Toby in to help James. He had been anxious about James for some time.

“I knew I was too heavy for him to lift,” he said.

“Toby seems a very pleasant young man.”

“Yes. Very eager to help. I feel a great burden. There are you, James, and Clare … and now Toby all waiting on one useless cripple. But you are the one I worry about most. Sometimes I feel it is too much for you.”