“I shall be glad to go to school. It’s a pity we’re all so young. “

That will change, of course,” I said, a little primly perhaps, and Tamarisk burst out laughing.

“You sound like old Lallie already,” she said.

“Tell us about your old home.”

I told them and they listened intently and while they were talking Lily came in with the tea.

Aunt Sophie followed.

“You’ll look after our guests, Freddie,” she said.

“I’ll leave you to it. Then you can all get to know each other without the help of the grownups.”

I felt important pouring out the tea and handing round the cakes.

“What a funny name,” said Tamarisk.

“Isn’t it, Rachel? Freddie! It’s like a boy.”

“It’s Frederica really.”

“Frederica!” Her expression was disdainful.

“Mine’s more unusual. Poor old Rachel, yours is ordinary. Didn’t Rachel do something in the Bible?”

“Yes,” said Rachel.

“She did.”

“I like Tamarisk best. I shouldn’t like to be called by a boy’s name.”

“Nobody would mistake you for one,” I replied, which sent Tamarisk into gusts of laughter.

Then we talked together freely and I felt they had accepted me. They told me about the vagaries of old Lallie, how easily she could be hoodwinked, though one had to take care when attempting this; how she had had a lover who had died when he was young of some mysterious illness and that was why she had remained unmarried and had to go on being a governess to people like Tamarisk, Rachel and me instead of having her own home, with a loving husband and a family.

By the time tea was over I had lost my apprehension and felt I could deal adequately with Tamarisk and had no fear of Rachel.

On the following Monday I set out for St. Aubyn’s Park, full of cautious optimism, to face Miss Alice Lloyd.

St. Aubyn’s Park was a large Tudor mansion with a winding drive bordered on each side by flowering shrubs. There was an impressive gatehouse under which Aunt Sophie and I passed and went into a cobbled courtyard. Aunt Sophie had come along with me, as she said, ‘to introduce you to the place’.

“Don’t let Tamarisk overawe you,” she said.

“She will if she has half a chance. Remember, you’re as good as she is.”

I promised I would not.

We were let in by a maid who said: “Miss Lloyd is waiting for the young lady. Miss Cardingham.”

Thank you. We’ll go up, shall we? “

“If you would be so good,” was the answer.

The hall was lofty. There was a long refectory table with several chairs round it and on the wall a full-length portrait of Queen Elizabeth looking severe in a ruff and a jewel-spattered gown.

“She stayed here once,” whispered Aunt Sophie.

“The family is very proud of it.”

She led the way up a staircase; we came to a landing and, after more stairs, passed through a gallery in which were several sofas, chairs, a spinet and a harp. I wondered if Tamarisk could play them. Then there were more stairs.

“Schoolrooms always seem to be at the top of the house,” commented Aunt Sophie.

“They were at Cedars.”

At last we arrived. Aunt Sophie knocked at a door and went in.

This was the schoolroom which was to become very familiar to me. It was large with a high ceiling. In the centre of the room was a long table at which Tamarisk and Rachel were sitting. I noticed the big cupboard, the door of which was half-open to show books and slates. At one end of the room was a blackboard. It was the typical schoolroom.

A woman came towards us. She was, of course, Miss Alice Lloyd. She was tall and thin and I imagined in her early forties. I noticed the faintly long-suffering expression in her face which must have come from trying to teach people like Tamarisk St. Aubyn. This was mingled with a wistfulness and reminded me that Tamarisk had said she looked back to a past which had held a lover and dreams of what might have been.

“This is my niece. Miss Lloyd, Freddie … that is, Frederica.”

Miss Lloyd smiled at me and her smile transformed her. I liked her from that moment.

“Welcome, Frederica,” she said.

“You must tell me all about yourself.

Then I shall know where you stand in relation to my two other pupils. ”

Tm sure you’ll get on well,” said Aunt Sophie.

“I’ll see you later, dear.”

She said goodbye to Miss Lloyd and left.

I was told to sit down and Miss Lloyd asked me a few questions. She seemed not dissatisfied with my achievements and the lessons began.

I had always been interested in acquiring knowledge; I had read a great deal and I soon realized that I by no means lagged behind my companions.

At eleven o’clock a maid came in with a tray on which were three glasses of milk and three plain biscuits.

“I’ve put yours in your room. Miss Lloyd,” she said.

“Thank you,” said Miss Lloyd.

“Now, girls, fifteen minutes only.”

Tamarisk grimaced at her back as she left.

The hot milk tasted delicious. We all took a biscuit.

“Free for a while,” commented Tamarisk.

“Do you do this every day?” I asked.

Tamarisk nodded.

“Milk at eleven. Eleven-fifteen, lessons, and they go on till twelve. Then you and Rachel go home.”

Rachel nodded in agreement.

“I expect you think this house is very grand,” said Tamarisk to me.

“It isn’t as grand as the house where my mother was brought up,” I said, feeling a little exaggeration was not amiss.

“It was Cedar Hall.

You may have heard of it. “

Tamarisk shook her head dismissively.

But I was not going to have that. I went into a description imaginary, of course, for I had never been inside Cedar Hall. But I could describe its gracious interior on what I had seen at St. Aubyn’s, making sure to make it more grand, more impressive.

Rachel sat back, listening intently, seeming to sink further and further into her chair.

“Of course,” said Tamarisk, eyeing Rachel, “Rachel doesn’t know what we are talking about.”

“I do,” said Rachel.

“Oh no you don’t. You only live in the old Bell House, and before that, where did you come from? You couldn’t know anything about houses like this, could she, Fred?”

I said: “You can know things. You don’t necessarily have to live in them. Besides, Rachel’s here, isn’t she?”

Rachel looked grateful and from that moment I decided to protect her.

She was small and pretty in a fragile way. I liked Rachel. I was not sure of Tamarisk.

We went on boasting about our houses until Miss Lloyd came in with the maid. The latter took away the tray and we settled down to the lesson.

On that first morning I remember we did geography and English grammar: and I became quite absorbed, to the pleasure of Miss Lloyd, which was apparent.

It was quite a satisfactory morning until we started to leave for home.

I was to walk back to The Rowans in the company of Rachel, for the Bell House and The Rowans were not very far from each other.

Miss Lloyd smiled benignly on me and said that she was pleased that I had joined them and she was sure I was going to be a satisfactory pupil.

Then she left us and went to the little room which she called her ‘sanctum’ and which was next to the schoolroom.

Tamarisk came down the stairs with us.

“Huh!” she said, giving me a little push.

“I can see you are going to be old Lallie’s pet. Sucking up, that’s what I call it, Fred Hammond.

“I am sure you are going to be a satisfactory pupil.”

” She mimicked Miss Lloyd.

“I don’t like suckers-up,” she added ominously.

“I was only being natural,” I said.

“I like Miss Lloyd and I shall be a satisfactory pupil if I want to. She needs at least one.” Then I looked at Rachel whom I had promised myself to protect, and went on:

“Or two of us.”

“Swot!” said Tamarisk.

“I do hate swots.”

“I’ve come here to learn and that is what we are all supposed to do.

What would be the use of coming otherwise? “

“Just hark at her,” said Tamarisk to Rachel.

Rachel lowered her eyes. No doubt she was used to Tamarisk bullying and felt she had had to accept it as payment for being able to share the lessons. But this sharing was no business of Tamarisk’s. It had been arranged by the grownups, and I was not going to pander to it.

Tamarisk decided to abandon the matter. I was to learn that her moods were short-lived. She could insult one moment and profess friendship the next. I knew in my heart that she was rather pleased that I had come to share the lessons; and the fact that I stood up to her amused her. It broke the monotony of Rachel’s meek acceptance.

As we came down the wide staircase a man was at the bottom waiting to come up.

“Hello, Crispin,” said Tamarisk.

Crispin! I thought. The brother! The Lord of the Manor who didn’t want people to forget it.

He was just as I had expected from Aunt Sophie’s description. Tall, lean, with dark hair and light greyish eyes cool eyes rather contemptuous of the world. He was in riding clothes and appeared just to have come in.

He nodded in acknowledgement of his sister’s greeting and his eyes momentarily swept over Rachel and me. Then he ran past us up the stairs.

Tamarisk said: “That’s my brother, Crispin.”

“I know. You said his name.”

“All this is his,” she said proudly, throwing out her arms.

“He didn’t take much notice of you!”

“That was because you were here.”

Then I heard his voice. It was one of those clear voices which carry a long way.

He said: “Who is the plain child with the others?” He was talking to someone up there.

“New, I imagine,” he added.

Tamarisk was suppressing her laughter. I felt the blood rushing to my face. I knew I was not handsome like Tamarisk or pretty like Rachel, but ‘the plain child’! I felt bitterly hurt and humiliated.

“Well,” said Tamarisk, who had little respect for the feelings of others, ‘he did want to know who you were. After all, it’s his house, isn’t it, and you are plain. “

I said: “I don’t care. Miss Lloyd likes me. My aunt likes me. I don’t care what your rude brother thinks.”

“That wasn’t rude. It was just truth.

“Trust must stand when all is failing” or something like that. You’d know that. You’re clever.

You’re old Lallie’s pet. “

We walked to the door and Tamarisk said, without rancour: “Goodbye, see you tomorrow.”

As I walked down the drive with Rachel, I was thinking:

I’m plain.

I had never considered it before and now I was faced with the bald truth.

Rachel slipped her arm through mine. She had suffered humiliation herself and knew how I felt. She did not say anything, for which I was grateful, and I walked along in silence, thinking: I’m plain.

We reached the Bell House. It looked attractive in sun shine. As we approached it, a man came out of the gate. He was middle-aged with wiry ginger hair which was beginning to turn grey at the temples, and he had a short spiky beard.

He had his hand on the gate and I noticed it was covered with ginger hairs. His mouth was straight and tight and he had small light eyes.

“Good day to you,” he said, and he was looking at me.

“You’ll be the newcomer from The Rowans. You have been having lessons at St. Aubyn’s.”

“This is my uncle,” said Rachel quietly.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Dorian,” I said.

He nodded, moistening his lips with his tongue. I had a sudden feeling of revulsion, which I could not quite under stand, so definite was it.

Rachel had changed too. She seemed a little fearful. But then I supposed she always was.

“The Lord’s blessing on you,” said Mr. Dorian, and he continued to look at me.

I said goodbye and walked on to The Rowans.

Aunt Sophie was waiting there for me with Lily. Lunch was already on the table.

“Well,” said Aunt Sophie, ‘how did it go? “

“Very well.”

“That’s good. I said it would, didn’t I, Lily? I reckon you put the other two in the shade.”

“I reckon you did and all,” said Lily.

“Miss Lloyd seemed to think I was all right. She said she was glad I was coming to her to be taught.”

They exchanged glances. Then Lily said: “I haven’t sweated over the fire all the morning cooking food that’s let get cold.”