I thought often of Jowan Jermyn. It would be amusing to see him again. I rather liked the fact that we had to meet…well, not exactly secretly…but to take certain precautions not to be seen too frequently at the same place.

I wondered if Mrs. Brodie had reported that we had called in twice at Smithy’s. It was very probable. It had been tactful of him to suggest the meeting at the Horned Stag.

My father was delighted to see us. He said that he wished Dorabella could come home for a while.

My mother said: “She is at her own home now, and you could hardly expect her to leave her husband. And her husband has an estate to look after.”

“Gordon does that very well,” replied my father. “I don’t think Dermot would be missed all that much.”

It was as near as he could get to a criticism and very unusual with him. It showed how much he wanted to see his daughter.

I missed her, too, but I was sure it would not be long before I went to Cornwall again. I wanted to be with her. Moreover, it was exciting, and a little mysterious in a way, which appealed to my penchant for intrigue. I could not rid myself of the idea that there was something strange about the household, and I felt it would be very interesting to discover what it was. And then, of course, there would be meetings with Jowan Jermyn.

My mother was overjoyed to hear from Nanny Crabtree. She would be free at the beginning of September and would take a short holiday to stay with her cousin in Northamptonshire. She would be ready to go to Cornwall at the beginning of October which would give her a few weeks to settle in before the baby arrived.

We heard from Edward that he and Gretchen would like to come and see us and perhaps stay a couple of weeks. They had a friend who would like to see Cornwall. Should we mind very much if they brought him with them?

“I am sure you will like Richard,” he said. “He is a lawyer and has been a great help to me.”

My mother was always delighted to see Edward and wrote back enthusiastically of her pleasure at the proposed visit.

Edward was now attached to a law firm in London. He and Gretchen were living in the Greenham family house in Westminster at the time but were looking for a house of their own. Edward wrote to my mother regularly so that she could keep in touch with everything he was doing. Although she was only about fifteen years older than he was, he looked upon her as a mother, which was not really surprising, as she was the one who had brought him out of Belgium when the Germans had been invading that country.

They arrived in the early afternoon. Gretchen looked very happy; so did Edward. We were introduced to the friend, Richard Dorrington, a tall, pleasant-looking young man who thanked my mother profusely for asking him.

I could see immediately that she liked him. She told him that Edward’s friends were always welcome.

It was an interesting visit. My father quite obviously liked Richard Dorrington, too—but then he liked most people—yet I did sense a rather special feeling for this young man.

Edward said he was going to show Richard some of the local sights, for Richard, who had lived most of his life in London, did not know this part of the country at all.

Over the first meal Edward talked about the places he had in mind.

“You’d like to see some of these spots again, wouldn’t you, Violetta?” said my mother.

I agreed that I would.

“Robert will be very cross when he hears you’ve been here,” said my mother to Richard. “Robert is my young son. He’s always annoyed because he is at school when we have visitors here. Well, the four of you must go together. You must take Richard to that old Chidam place for lunch. It is really rather fun. Ye Olde Reste House, pretending to date back to the days of Henry VIII when it was actually built about ten years ago. Ye olde Tudor beams—put in all of ten years ago! I expect they have a ghost. Anne Boleyn will appear one day.”

“I don’t think she ever went near the place,” said Edward.

“That’s of no account. They’ll find a way of fitting her in with ye olde Tudor beams. It is really quite amusing with the waitresses in Tudor costumes, complete with lipstick and permanently waved hair.”

“It sounds amusing,” said Richard.

“It is…just for once. You will take him, Edward?”

Then we talked about Edward’s househunting in London.

“I’d like to be near Chambers,” said Edward.

“Richard has a fine place in Kensington,” added Gretchen.

“I think,” said Edward smiling at her, “we shall have to go for something less grand.”

“Our place has been in the family for some years,” said Richard. “My grandfather bought it. Then it went to my father and now to me.”

“In a quiet square,” added Gretchen.

“One of those big family houses, built round a garden square for exclusive use of the residents who surround it,” explained Edward.

“There are some lovely houses in those squares,” said my mother.

“You need a family to fill them,” put in Gretchen.

“I have my widowed mother and sister Mary Grace living with me,” said Richard. “It has always been home to us.”

“Then you have old Mrs. what’s-her-name to keep everything in order,” said Edward.

“That’s the housekeeper,” Richard explained to us. “Yes, she is one of the old faithful kind. She makes everything run smoothly.”

“I know the type,” said my mother.

My father liked to hear what people thought of the political situation. He always felt that people from London would know more of what was going on than we did in the country.

“What do you think of the new Prime Minister?” asked Richard Dorrington.

“It’s early days yet. He’s only been in office just over a month. He did some good work in the past, and it was time Baldwin went, I suppose. Though he did very well over the Abdication. He probably needed a rest after that, hence his resignation. I would say that Neville Chamberlain has not had long enough to be judged.”

“I don’t like the situation on the Continent.”

Edward said: “It is certainly thought-provoking.”

“Mussolini is being closely watched,” went on Richard. “Europe is very uneasy about him, but they all stood by when he invaded Abyssinia. They were horrified, shocked, and disapproving, but they did just nothing. If the countries had stood together then, if they had imposed sanctions, he would have had to withdraw in a few weeks. But they stood by, saying how disgraceful it was, while he snapped his fingers at them and went on. I was, in Rome this time last year…no, a little earlier. It was May. It was in the Piazza Venezia; the crowd was great. I heard there were about 400,000 gathered there, and I could well believe that. Mussolini came out and announced to us all that after fourteen years of fascist rule Italy had an empire.”

“What sort of a man is he?” asked my father.

“Powerful, charismatic in the extreme, with a hypnotic quality. One sensed he had them all in his power. I think these forceful dictators must arouse a certain uneasiness in the minds of many people. They are too powerful, and their people do not seem to question their actions. They can’t, I suppose. They dare not. He is modeling himself on his ally, Adolf Hitler.”

I saw the change in Gretchen. She lowered her eyes, and I was taken back to those terrible moments in the inn parlor at the schloss.

“What about the Rome-Berlin Axis?” asked my father.

Richard Dorrington smiled grimly. “It means Germany and Italy are allies. I think Mussolini longs to be a Hitler.”

Edward glanced at Gretchen and said: “Well, we shall have to wait and see. I want to tell you about the places I plan for us to visit.”

The next day we went off in the car—the four of us together. It was most enjoyable. A few days later there was a picnic in the nearby woods. My mother and father came with us and it was a very jolly party. My mother was overjoyed by Edward’s visit. I would often see her looking at him reminiscently, and I knew she was thinking of the helpless little baby whose life she had saved. Of course, my grandmother had undertaken the main responsibility of bringing him up, but he would always remember that but for my mother, he would not be one of us now.

There was something else. I detected a certain speculation in her eyes. I knew her well and could read her thoughts. She liked Richard; she was constantly talking of him to Edward. She wanted to know all about him. I thought, she is looking out for a suitable husband for her daughter. Dorabella is safely settled, now she thinks it is my turn.

I rather wished the thought had not struck me. It had an effect on my feelings for Richard, and I fancied I was a little more aloof than I might have been. Why did mothers always want to get their daughters married? They wanted to see them settled, and because they remembered them as babies, they thought they needed someone to look after them, I supposed.

I wanted to assure her that I was quite capable of looking after myself. And she must not, as so many mothers do, set out to find a husband for me.

The days were passing, and very pleasant they were. My father enjoyed discussing the state of affairs in Europe and was speculating with Edward and Richard whether Chamberlain would do well, and whether it was a pity that Baldwin had seen fit to resign at this time.

The visit was coming to an end. We were into July and that evening at dinner Richard said, looking at my mother, for he knew she would be the one to make the decision: “You must come to London. There is so much to do there. Everything won’t be so crowded at this time. Why not?”

“You must come as soon as we get our house,” began Edward, when Richard interposed:

“You must stay with us. Mary Grace loves having visitors. So does my mother. It would cheer her up a good deal.”

“Richard’s place is not very far from Kensington Gardens, and then there is the High Street with all the shops,” Edward added.

“Well, we should very much like to,” said my mother.

She came to my room that night when the household had retired.

“What do you think about this visit to London?” she asked.

“Well, perhaps sometime.”

“It sounds fun. I’d like to see that house and meet his people. Mary Grace sounds very charming.”

“Oh, yes…”

“I like Richard, don’t you?”

“Yes. Edward and he seem good friends, and I think he and Gretchen are happy.”

“I think so, too. It is a pity her people are so far away. I think we ought to pay that visit and we shouldn’t leave it too long, either.”

I smiled at her. I could read her thoughts so easily.

I did have a chance of a quiet talk with Gretchen. Although she was happy, and obviously cared deeply for Edward, I often saw anxiety in her eyes.

It was the day before they were due to leave when I found myself alone with her.

I said: “Gretchen, is everything all right?”

“You mean…my family…?”

“Yes.”

She did not speak for a while. Then she said: “They have not been molested. But I believe it is no better…perhaps getting worse.”

“You mean what we saw happen…is still going on?”

“Yes,” she said. “And more often. I wish…”

“What a pity they can’t get out.”

“It is difficult. I talk about it with Edward. I wish they could come to England. But it is not easy.”

“I can see that. They would have to leave the schloss, their home, everything.”

She said: “Some are getting out. Friends of ours have gone. They are in America. And some in Canada, South Africa, and other places.”

“If you and Edward get a house…perhaps…”

She shook her head. “My father would not go. Nor would Kurt. If they were rich, perhaps, as some have done.”

“It may all blow over…”

She lifted her shoulders. “There is such hatred for our race. My family is not important even to attract much notice, fortunately. It is the rich they attack first. But in time…”

I laid my hand on hers. “I am glad you are here.”

“I am the fortunate one. My family rejoice in my good fortune. But I suffer for them.”

“Dear Gretchen, I hope it all comes right soon.”

“One can hope,” she said, but I saw the hopelessness in her face.

My mother talked again of the proposed visit to London.

“It will be fun to go househunting for Edward,” she said.

The visitors left with the assurance that we should all meet again soon.