Jane did.

“I heard Father say that she has never been confirmed. She wants to be and, of course, Mrs. Ellington is all for it. Get her over here on the pretext of discussing that.”

The message was sent and on the day before we were due to visit Lakemere House Kitty arrived. We arranged that I should keep out of sight until Lilias had talked to her.

I had a glimpse of her from my window as she arrived. She looked plumper and more contented. I thought: the life here suits her.

She had not been in the house long when Daisy came to my room and told me that Lilias thought I should now go down to the drawing room.

When I arrived Kitty ran to me and threw her arms about me. Then she withdrew—a little shocked, I think, at her temerity.

I kissed her cheek and said: “It’s good to see you, Kitty.”

“Oh, Miss D … er, Miss er … It was terrible … the things they said …”

“It’s over,” I said. “We try to forget it.”

She nodded. “But I’ll never forget what you done for me, Miss … you and Miss Milne. I just don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“So you’re happy at Lakemere House?”

“Oh yes. It’s nice. I really like it there.”

“I hope it will stay like that.”

“You mustn’t forget that it is Miss Diana now,” said Lilias. “Miss Diana Grey. It is important, Kitty, that you should not forget.”

“Oh, I won’t, Miss.”

She told us how different from Edinburgh it was living in Lakemere House. She had made friends and Mrs. Ellington took an interest. She knew she had done wrong, but she couldn’t think what had come over her. It was just that … She blushed and we changed the subject.

Lilias hustled her off to the vicar that the subject of her confirmation might be broached. Lilias was a stickler for the truth and she wanted to adhere to it as much as possible.

I could not help feeling a little apprehensive when we drove over to Lakemere House in the dogcart, even though I tried to repress my fear and assure myself that I must not feel so nervous every time I was going to meet someone new.

Lilias was saying: “As she regards herself as the guardian of the village, Mrs. Ellington likes to know everything that is going on. She is especially interested in the church. I think she believes it is her duty to watch over my father. She respects his goodness, but deplores his unpractical way of going about life. She regards him with a mixture of affection and exasperation. She admires his Christian virtues and despairs of his unworldliness. I daresay she will try to get you to give a hand in village affairs while you are here.”

“I shan’t mind that. Is there a Mr. Ellington?”

“Oh yes. He’s very rich. He goes back and forth to Exeter and is often in London. He never interferes with Mrs. Ellington’s affairs—he just supplies the comforts which enable her to continue with her good works. He is said to be a lion in business and a lamb in the domestic circle.”

“So Mrs. Ellington is the resident lioness.”

“That’s about it. Then, of course, there is Miss Myra Ellington—the fruit of the marriage. She must be approaching thirty. She is unmarried.”

“I’m surprised at that. I should have thought Mrs. Ellington would have found a suitable match for her daughter.”

“There are some who say that Miss Myra is not the marrying kind. She is pleasant … but rather quiet, self-effacing almost, which seems strange in Mrs. Ellington’s daughter. I believe that she is rather well off in her own right. Rumour says her grandfather left her money … the bulk of his fortune, they say. That would give her a certain independence, I suppose.”

“I see. I suppose a great many people marry for security.”

“A great many, I fear. Well, Miss Ellington doesn’t have to think of that. Though I did hear through Kitty that she seems to be rather interested in a man who is visiting the house.”

“I suppose in a village it is difficult to keep secrets, however much one tries …”

Lilias was looking at me severely. “You’ve got to stop thinking that everyone is obsessed by your case. It was just a nine days’ wonder. People quickly forget what doesn’t affect them.”

She was right. But so many conversations seemed to lead back to the subject.

Lakemere House was an impressive building of eighteenth century elegance. Marble steps led up to a portico. On the lawn, which was bordered by flower beds, was a large pond, in the centre of which was a statue which could have been Aphrodite.

A maid took us up to the drawing room where Mrs. and Miss Ellington were waiting to receive us.

Mrs. Ellington, seated in an armchair which resembled a throne, held out a hand. “Oh, Lilias … how nice to see you.”

Miss Ellington had risen and hovered beside her mother.

“This is Miss Diana Grey,” said Lilias.

The hand was extended. I took it, feeling I should curtsy, for there was something decisively regal about Mrs. Ellington.

“So nice. Welcome to Lakemere, Miss Grey. This is my daughter.”

We shook hands.

“So pleased you could come,” murmured Miss Ellington to which I replied that it was kind of Mrs. Ellington to invite me.

I studied the rich Miss Ellington. She was tallish and rather angular. There was an awkwardness about her and she had no real claim to beauty whereas her mother must have been a very pretty woman in her youth. But there was something appealing about Miss Ellington. It was due to a certain gentleness in her big brown rather spaniel-like eyes.

“I hear you have come to stay at the vicarage, Miss Grey,” said Mrs. Ellington. “What do you think of our little village?”

“I haven’t seen a great deal of it yet, but what I have seen I find charming.”

“We’re rather fond of it. So much is going on. It keeps us busy.”

A maid came in, wheeling a trolly on which everything needed for tea was laid out, including thinly cut sandwiches and a fruitcake.

“Thank you, Emma,” said Mrs. Ellington. “You may go. We’ll manage. Miss Grey, cream? Sugar?”

Miss Ellington took the cup and brought it to me.

A few minutes later the door opened and a man looked in. He stood in the doorway conveying surprise and penitence.

“Oh, I am so sorry. I had no idea you had guests. I’m interrupting.”

“Come along in, Roger,” said Mrs. Ellington warmly. “And indeed you are not interrupting. Mr. Lestrange is staying with us,” she said to me. “Come in and meet our guests.”

He was tall and powerfully built. I imagined he was in his late thirties. He was a very striking looking man—probably because of his physique. But it was something more than that. His complexion suggested he had been in a country with a warmer climate than ours; and he had intensely blue eyes which contrasted vividly with his almost black hair.

He advanced into the room, looking at me with interest.

“We have met,” said Lilias.

“Of course, but … er …” He was smiling at me.

Miss Ellington said: “This is Miss Grey who is staying at the vicarage.”

“How interesting!”

“Do sit down, Roger,” said Mrs. Ellington. “Myra, my dear, take Roger his tea.”

While the tea was being served Mrs. Ellington said to me: “Mr. Lestrange comes from South Africa. He is in England for only a short while, and he is spending a little time with us. He and my husband have business interests in common.”

“I’ve been riding,” he said, smiling at us all. “I find the countryside fascinating.”

“A little different from where you’ve come from, I daresay,” said Mrs. Ellington.

“Delightfully so. You are visiting, too, Miss Grey? From what part do you come?”

“From Scotland.”

“A beautiful country. What part?”

“From … er … Edinburgh.” I felt myself flush a little. I must control my fears. Since my ordeal I had felt so uneasy when anyone asked questions about myself.

“And what part of South Africa do you come from, Mr. Lestrange?” I asked quickly.

“A place called Kimberley. You may have heard of it.”

“Who has not heard of Kimberley?” said Mrs. Ellington. “Your diamonds have made you famous.”

“Perhaps notorious,” he replied, smiling at her. “Oh yes. There is no doubt that diamonds have put us in the news.”

“Mr. Lestrange is attached to one of the biggest diamond companies in the world,” said Mrs. Ellington proudly.

“Oh come,” he said with a laugh. “There are others.”

“You are a very modest man, Roger,” said Mrs. Ellington almost fondly.

“It must be very exciting when diamonds are discovered,” I said.

“Yes, and it can create chaos. Diamonds … gold … we’ve had our share of both. People begin to think they are lying in the ground just waiting to be picked up.”

“Once they are found there is a great deal of work to be done on them, I suppose,” said Lilias. “When people talk of diamond discoveries I do believe they think of bracelets and rings just waiting to be worn.”

“That’s true. And for every find there are hundreds of disappointments. I’m glad to say I have been one of the lucky ones.”

“Do you actually live in the town of Kimberley?” I asked.

“Yes. I have quite a large house … well, it’s adequate. I must say that since my wife died I have thought of moving. But … well … I have had to travel a great deal and have just not got round to it.”

There was a brief silence of respect for the death of his wife which he had spoken of with some feeling. He bit his lips and smiled brightly at us, and Miss Ellington said quickly: “It must be very interesting to be in a new country. Here, everything is so ancient.”

“Well, I would hardly call Africa new,” said Mr. Lestrange. “But here you have so much to remind you of a not-so-distant past. For instance your Norman churches and some of the houses.”

“The climate must be very different from here,” said Lilias.

“It is. But ours in Kimberley is healthy … so we are told.”

“One only has to look at you to see that,” said Mrs. Ellington.

“Are you staying long in England?” I asked.

“Until my business is completed. I am tempted to make it last a long time. You’ve no idea how they spoil me here.”

“We enjoy having you,” said Mrs. Ellington, “don’t we, Myra?”

Miss Ellington agreed, with real feeling, I thought.

“It makes a change in our simple life,” went on Mrs. Ellington. “My husband’s friends stay from time to time.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “But on this occasion Myra and I are finding it most enjoyable and we shall do our best to make you extend your visit, Roger.”

I could not help noticing Myra Ellington. She had changed since he came in. Her spaniel’s eyes strayed often to him. She is attracted by him, I thought.

As for him, he was different from anyone I had ever known. I wondered about him. He came from South Africa. Had he been born there or was he one of the men who had gone out from home in search of diamonds? He was not what I would imagine an Afrikaner … which would mean that he was of Dutch origin. His name suggested he might be French. I believed that when the Dutch agriculturists who were Boers settled in South Africa, they were joined by some Huguenots who were in flight from France. But he did not look French either.

However, since his arrival the tea party was turning out to be more interesting than I had thought it would be. Instead of the expected conversation of village affairs, we were given an interesting insight into a world of which hitherto I had known nothing.

Mrs. Ellington allowed Roger Lestrange to dominate the conversation, which surprised me; but she, like her daughter, was clearly very attracted by him.

He was a vivid talker and obviously enjoyed his attentive audience. He touched briefly on the beauty of the scenery, often rugged, majestic, awe-inspiring; he talked of the animals —lions, leopards, panthers, giraffes, buffalo, rhinoceros and hyenas; and as I listened I felt I was there in a new world, far away from all the fears and nightmares which seemed to be constantly with me.

“It sounds like paradise,” said Myra Ellington.

“There is another side to it,” he said ruefully. “You can see a lion descending on a beautiful deer—the poor creature’s terror when it realises its fate. That is nature. Every animal must fend for itself. They go in fear of their lives. One moment they are running along, exulting in the joys of being alive and free. They do not see the powerful enemy waiting for the moment to spring. Suddenly they are powerless. Death is facing them.”