At length it came. Mrs. Crown was writing to me and I should be hearing from her very soon.

And in due course the letter arrived. The heading was The Female Middle Class Emigration Society with an address in the City of London. Mrs. Crown would be pleased to see me round about three o’clock in the afternoon of the fifth of June.

This gave us a week to make our plans to go to London and this we did without delay.

WE HAD BOOKED into a small hotel recommended by Ninian which was not very far from the Society’s premises; and at the appointed time were mounting the stairs to Mrs. Crown’s office.

She came to the door to greet us—a fresh-faced middle-aged woman with a kindly smile.

“Miss Grey … Miss Milne … Mr. Grainger has written to me about you. Do sit down.”

When we were seated she went on: “You want to emigrate and take posts as governesses, I understand. This is the usual profession ladies such as yourselves undertake. Our Society deals with all kinds of employment, but governesses are the most usual because so many of our people are ladies of education and small means. Let me tell you something about the Society. It was founded by a lady who believed that women should be given more chances of employment. The lower classes have been engaged in domestic service for centuries, but she felt that the educated woman should be brought more into public life. She discovered that such ladies were badly needed in the Colonies and she believed that women of strong character and high moral sense should take charge of the young. So she formed this Society to help people like yourselves who want to go abroad for some reason. So many people in these circumstances cannot afford the fare and they need something to enable them to support themselves until they get settled. The object of the Society is to help them over this difficult time. It is, you might say, a philanthropic association, kept going by voluntary subscriptions, and the object of our members is to be of assistance in helping the right people to start a new life in another country.”

She then asked us for our qualifications. I could see she was impressed by Lilias’ experience, but, as she said, I was a young lady of obvious education and she thought we should have no difficulty in finding employment.

“So many of our colonists deplore the fact that they cannot get a good education for their children. The Society does what it can to find that employment, but it is difficult being so far away, and many of our people go out and find employment for themselves. The most popular countries are Australia, America and New Zealand. South Africa, too.”

“Mr. Grainger has given me some idea of the Society’s methods,” I said.

“Ah yes. Mr. Grainger, Senior, has a very high opinion of us; and has indeed been very benevolent towards us. I understand, Miss Grey, that you have a small private income.”

“That is true.”

“And you would not be needing financial help from us for your passage?”

“That is so. Does that mean … ?”

“It means that we will help in arranging your passage just the same. Now, Miss Milne …”

“I’m afraid I cannot afford to pay my passage,” said Lilias.

“I want to help Miss Milne,” I said. “But I fear I am not rich enough to pay for her passage as well as my own.”

“That’s perfectly easy. We will advance what is needed, Miss Milne, and you can pay us back gradually, when you are in employment.”

“I don’t care to be in debt,” said Lilias.

“I know how you feel. But you will pay back when you can. We have always found that most of our clients in time meet their obligations. We have no fears … nor need you have. You have to decide to which country you wish to go.”

“We heard that Australia is more like England,” I ventured.

“In the towns maybe. It depends where you are employed. However, would you like to think about it? If you know someone who is connected with Australia … then that would be good. But of course there is the difficulty of finding employment when you arrive.”

“That could be a little daunting,” said Lilias.

“It is an undertaking, of course,” agreed Mrs. Crown. “I will show you some of the letters we have received from people that will give you some idea of the difficulties and the rewards.”

She took us into a small room, the walls of which were lined with files, and she gave us letters to read from people whom they had helped. The letters were from Australia, South Africa, New Zealand and the United States of America.

They were very revealing. The majority of the writers had found posts fairly easily, but some had not been so fortunate. There were very few who regretted their decision to leave England.

We spent more than half an hour reading those letters before Mrs. Crown came back to us.

“It gives you an idea of what you may find,” she said. “How do you feel now?”

Lilias was more practical than I and therefore perhaps less certain. But perhaps she did not feel the same urgent need to escape as I did. I could not stop myself going over Mrs. Dalton’s words and hearing that sudden cry of horror from Kitty when she used my real name. I was sure I had to get away.

There was another point. Lilias was not very happy about borrowing the money, even though it was lent by philanthropists. I wished that I could have afforded to pay her passage; but she would not hear of that. I consoled myself with the fact that my money would be a bulwark against absolute destitution.

It was Lilias who said: “May we have a little longer to think about this?”

“But of course. It is your decision.”

“We shall have to think where we should go. It is very difficult to make up one’s mind when one knows nothing, or very little, about such places.”

“You are right to make absolutely sure that you want to go,” said Mrs. Crown.

“We could make up our minds in say a week,” said Lilias, appealing to me.

I said I thought we could do that and it was a good idea.

So we left the Society’s offices and after another night in our hotel we went back to the vicarage.

WE HAD, of course, made no secret of our intentions. Lilias’ father and sister had been informed right from the first. Jane understood absolutely why Lilias wanted to get away. She knew she had felt frustrated. I believed that Jane thought it was rather a reckless step to leave one’s country, but she understood the need for it. So did the vicar. They were saddened at the thought of Lilias’ departure but made no efforts to persuade her to stay. It was not quite the case with Daisy. She laboured under the assumption that heathens lived in foreign parts and the idea of Lilias’ travelling to such places appalled her. She expressed her disapproval and, as she was something of a gossip, very soon the whole village was aware of our plans.

So there was great excitement in Lakemere that summer with two major events about to take place: the marriage of Myra Ellington to Roger Lestrange and the possible departure to foreign parts of the vicar’s daughter.

The annual fete always took place in June and, since the Manor House was lax in its duties, the gardens of Lakemere House were thrown open for the occasion. This was posing some questions this year as the wedding was to take place about a week later.

Mrs. Ellington, however, was not one to shirk her duties and, awkward as it might be, she decided that the fete must go ahead.

We were all summoned to work for it. I was not sorry, because my thoughts were dominated—not so much as to whether we should go abroad as to where to. Lilias and I talked endlessly when we were alone; but it did seem to me that we covered the same ground again and again. Lilias’ doubts centred on the fact that we should have to find posts when we arrived at whatever place we decided on. She feared we might not do so immediately and she would already be in debt—a state of affairs which she deplored.

In vain did I point out that I had a little money of my own which I would share with her. It was no use. I was afraid that she might decide she had been rash to agree to come with me and would change her mind.

They were uneasy days and that was why it was a help to be caught up with the fete.

I was in charge of what was called bric-a-brac, which mainly consisted of articles which had been given as presents, put away in a drawer and never used, to be brought out and presumably passed on to others who would do the same with them as their previous owners. However, it was all in a good cause; Norman churches needed constant bolstering up.

It was a warm sunny day which was a blessing, for the stalls could be set up on the lawns. Lilias had said it could be a nightmare if the weather was uncertain. At least if it were definitely raining they could be set up in the hall which was quite spacious.

I was presiding over my stall, attending to the occasional customer, when Roger Lestrange strolled up.

“Good afternoon, Miss Grey,” he said. “How is business?”

He was smiling at me with that intent expression which made me feel a little uncomfortable. But that was only because I harboured secrets. It was something I had to live with while I stayed here.

“Hardly brisk.”

“What do you suggest I should buy?”

“Here’s a delightful little pig.”

“Not my favourite animal.”

“Look. There’s a little slit in his back where you can save your pennies.”

“How useful!”

“Here’s a pillbox. Such a pretty picture on the lid.”

“Enchanting,” he said, looking at me.

“Here’s a figurine. The Venus de Milo.”

“Certainly more attractive than the pig and I have not much use for pillboxes. Let me have Venus.”

I handed it to him and our hands touched. He was smiling. “I have been hearing news of you. You’re leaving this country.”

“Oh yes.”

“What a decision for a young lady to make!” Again that quizzical look. I was afraid I was going to blush. I took a firm grip of myself. I must overcome this terrible suspicion that everyone knew who I really was. It would be different when I was away, I consoled myself.

“It’s rather an exciting project,” I said.

“Indeed it must be. Miss Milne is going with you, I gather. I don’t remember hearing where.”

“We haven’t decided yet.”

“Oh?” He looked surprised.

“We have been making enquiries. There are several possibilities. Australia … America … somewhere like that.”

“And what did you propose to do when you get there?”

“There is only one thing women in our position can do. Take a post.”

“The ubiquitous governess?” he said. “Well, if that’s the case, why not here?”

“We like the idea of travel.”

He nodded. “It has its appeal … to the adventurous. But you say you haven’t decided. Does that mean you have no posts in view?”

“It’s something we have to arrange when we get there.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I would say you are adventurous. Why don’t you try South Africa? It’s a beautiful country. And I’m sure there is a shortage of the right sort of governesses—which you and Miss Milne would undoubtedly be. As a matter of fact there is a school in Kimberley. Not exactly the sort of thing you had in mind perhaps … but something on the lines.”

Someone had come up to the stall and had picked up a case containing needles and cottons.

“How much is this?”

I turned reluctantly from Roger Lestrange who lifted his eyebrows and smiled. I was afraid he would go away, and I wanted to ask him more about the school. That we might go into a school was a prospect which had not entered our minds.

While I took the money from my customer I was thinking: but wouldn’t they want qualified teachers for a school?

The woman had gone.

“Yes,” went on Roger Lestrange. “This school in Kimberley had to close down. There was no one to run it. I wonder … ?”

“It sounds interesting.”

Someone else had come up to the stall.

“Business is getting brisk now,” said Roger Lestrange.

He lingered. The newcomer fingered a few things, bought a glass ashtray and departed.

“We ought to have a talk,” said Roger Lestrange.

“With Miss Milne,” I replied. “Could you come to the vicarage? It’s impossible here.”

“Tomorrow morning, yes. Ten o’clock?”

“That would be kind of you. Oh dear, someone else is coming. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”