“After luncheon you shall see it all and then you will be able to pass judgement.”

“You seem to be isolated, though, of course, you are not really,” I said.

“I’m glad you get that impression. And you are right, of course. No one can really be isolated in a town. But it is good to be here for business reasons and I like to create an impression of detachment, even if it is not strictly true. That was one of the reasons why I bought the house.”

“Oh? I had the impression that it was a sort of house which had been in your family for years.”

“Oh no. I bought the place … lock, stock and barrel … furniture and everything. It belonged to an old Dutch family who had been here for a hundred years. They decided they did not like the way things were going and they sold up and went back to Holland. It was very convenient for me. We … my first wife and I … wanted a place and this seemed to suit. So there it was, waiting for us. We just walked in and took on everything that was here … furniture, Mrs. Prost, most of the servants, I believe. Mrs. Prost would know how many.”

“You didn’t mind just walking in and taking over someone else’s possessions?”

“We didn’t mind in the least. We found it convenient … That was Margarete … my first wife.”

I glanced at Myra. I saw her flinch slightly. I wondered what that meant. Or did it mean anything? Was I imagining again?

We went into luncheon … to a similar room. I noticed the tiled floor, the heavy table and chairs.

Roger Lestrange sat at one end of the table, Myra at the other, Lilias and I facing each other.

As we ate Roger said: “There is one thing I wanted to ask you. It’s about my son, Paul. He is at present without a tutor. I was wondering whether it would be a good thing to send him away to school in England? It’s a big undertaking for him and I am not sure that he is ready. I thought that … for a while … if you would have him, I might send him along to your school.”

Lilias cried: “Of course, we should be delighted.”

“You must meet him before you go.”

While silent-footed Africans served the food, Roger Lestrange made a few comments about the weather and I could see that Lilias was impatient to hear more about Paul.

“Isn’t he rather young to be sent overseas?” asked Lilias.

“Oh no. He’s nine years old. Isn’t that the time boys go away to school? I should imagine many boys in England would be in boarding schools at that age.”

“Yes, but this is sending him overseas … right away from his home.”

“I don’t think he would mind that, do you, my dear?”

Myra agreed that he would not mind.

“He’s a strange boy,” went on Roger. “He keeps out of our way since we’ve been back.” He was looking at Myra, who seemed embarrassed, as though it were her fault that the boy kept away. Perhaps he resented his stepmother. Very likely. In any case, it appeared that Myra might be accepting the blame.

“Oh well, you’ll see for yourselves.” He wrinkled his brows and looked at us rather anxiously. “Do you know,” he went on, “I’m seriously beginning to wonder whether you were wise to come here.”

“Why?” I asked sharply; Lilias was looking at him questioningly.

“I don’t much like the way things are going. I haven’t liked it for some time … but now that I’m back, I see what’s happening more clearly.”

“What is happening?”

“Kruger is getting very stubborn. Trouble is blowing up fast between him and Chamberlain.”

“Chamberlain?”

“Joseph Chamberlain, Secretary of State for the Colonies. The trouble goes back a long way … you might say, right to the beginning of the century … ever since the British captured the Cape from Napoleon’s Dutch allies. I believe I have mentioned the trouble about the slaves when the British tried to reform conditions for the Khoi servants and made laws to protect them against cruelty. There has been antagonism between the Boers and the English ever since.”

“They don’t seem to be antagonistic towards us … individually.”

“Oh no. It’s the leaders who are at each other’s throats. They don’t blame us for what they call the arrogance of our leaders.”

“We have become quite friendly with a number of them now,” I said. “They have all been … well … rather especially nice to us.”

“It’s a quarrel between states. All the same, it can blow up. There would not be another Great Trek. This time they would stand firm and fight for their land.”

“What Great Trek was this?” asked Lilias.

“It happened about fifty years ago, but it’s still remembered. The conditions imposed by the British had robbed them of their slave labour, and they were unable to exist on the land, so they gathered their families and their goods together and set out across country in their ox-drawn wagons. Life was difficult. They were hard-working people, sternly religious, self-righteous, as such people often are, and they firmly believed that all who were not of their way of thinking were on the road to hell. All they wanted was to be left in peace with their slaves and their dogma, to work and make a living. So, harried by African tribes … the Zulus, the Ndebele and the Matabele … prevented from making a living by the British laws against slavery, what could they do? Only escape from their rulers to another land. Hence the Great Trek across country. They went as far as Natal and settled in the Transvaal.”

“They had a great deal of courage,” said Lilias.

“That’s something no one could accuse them of lacking. Then, of course, diamonds were discovered … and gold. That was to have a marked effect on the country. People came pouring in and Rhodes and Jameson dreamed of a British Africa. They managed to persuade Lobengula, King of the Matabele, to let them have mining concessions, and you know these lands are now Rhodesia … a British colony. But the trouble is between Kruger and Chamberlain.”

“That,” said Lilias, “means trouble between the British and the Boers.”

“There was a possibility at one time that Germany might come to the aid of the Boers and it seemed unlikely that the British would want to risk a war with Germany. It was a different matter with South Africa alone. That is what people are afraid of.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to come to some compromise?” asked Lilias.

“The Boers are not people to accept a compromise … unless it were forced on them.”

“And would it not be forced upon them by the power of Britain?” I asked.

“That might be, but I believe they are prepared to put it to the test. That is the crux of the matter: the franchise which Kruger is imposing in the Transvaal. The Uitlanders outnumber the Boers, so Kruger can’t give them the vote. Oh dear, I am spoiling this luncheon which I wanted to be so pleasant. It makes us very happy to have you here, does it not, Myra?”

“It does indeed,” she said fervently.

“Forgive me for bringing up a subject which would have been better left alone.”

“If it’s happening we would rather know about it,” said Lilias.

“Well, don’t let’s worry about it. There is peace so far. No one wants war. It is devastating to a country and almost always profits no one.”

“Yet there are constantly wars,” said Lilias.

He sighed. “That is the nature of man. Now … you must see more of this country. You will find it impressive, beautiful … often awe-inspiring.”

It came out during the course of the conversation that he had only been in South Africa some six or seven years. When I had first met him I had decided that he could not be of Dutch origin as so many of the people in South Africa were; but I had read somewhere that a certain number of French settlers in Africa were Huguenots who had left their own country to escape persecution, and I had assumed from his name that he was one of those. When I told him this, he said that he was indeed of French origin and his family had come to England at the time of the Edict of Nantes. So I was right in thinking that he came from a Huguenot family. He had, though, lived in England most of his life.

“You are very knowledgeable about your adopted country,” I said.

“I always believe in finding out all I can.” He looked at me steadily. “About everything,” he added.

I felt myself flushing and felt annoyed. Must I always suspect someone was probing my secret?

It was when the meal was over that a messenger arrived at the house asking that Mr. Lestrange go and meet a business colleague without delay as something important had turned up and needed his immediate attention.

“I am desolate,” he said. “At such a time as this! It is too bad I have to leave you.”

“Perhaps we should be going,” I said.

“Oh no!” cried Myra. “You have to meet Paul, and I want to show you the house.”

“Please do not run away because I have to go,” said Roger. “We will do this again … very soon. We must, to make up for my early departure. So … au revoir.”

It struck me that Myra was rather relieved when he was gone and with his absence she seemed to acquire a certain dignity. She’s afraid of him, I thought.

I was looking forward to meeting Paul Lestrange and I knew that Lilias was. We were different, Lilias and I. She would assess him as a pupil; to me he was an actor in what I felt might be some mysterious drama. I could not get rid of the idea that there was something strange about this household and that Myra was aware of it and that was why she appeared to be nervous.

Paul was tall for his age and bore no resemblance whatsoever to Roger. His hair was flaxen, his eyes blue-grey; and there was a cautious air about him.

“Paul,” said Myra, “these are the ladies who have opened the school, Miss Milne and Miss Grey.”

He came forward rather awkwardly and shook hands with us both.

Lilias said: “We have just heard that you may be joining us.”

He said: “I am going away to school.”

“Yes, we were told that, too. But it isn’t certain yet, is it?”

“Oh, no.”

“Do you think you would like to join us while you are waiting for things to be settled?”

“Oh yes, I should, thank you.”

“It is such a small school,” went on Lilias. “And there are pupils of all ages.”

“I know.”

“But, of course, we shall be expanding …”

“When shall you start?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Why not tomorrow?” said Lilias. “The beginning of the week.”

“I don’t mind.”

He was noncommittal … cautious still. But at least he did not appear to dislike us.

Myra said: “I am going to show Miss Milne and Miss Grey the house and after that the garden. Would you like to come with us?”

To my surprise he said he would.

I wondered if Lilias was thinking the same about him as I was. Rather shut in on himself. Difficult to know. A little suspicious of us. Lots of children were like that.

The tour of the house began. There were several rooms on the first floor, all similar to the ones we had already seen. The rather ornate spiral staircase descended from the top to the bottom of the house. The heavy furniture was everywhere and I could not help feeling that it had been lovingly collected over the years.

“You haven’t lived here all your life, have you?”

“Oh no. We came here … just after they were married.”

I was puzzled. “Who … were married?”

“My mother … and him.”

“But … ?”

Myra said: “Do you like these drapes? Look at the embroidery on them.”

Lilias took the material in her hands, but I turned to Paul. He was looking at me as though he wanted to talk.

“You thought he was my father,” he said. “He’s not. He lets people think it, but he’s not. He’s not.”

Myra said: “It came from Amsterdam, I think. You can tell by the style of the embroidery.”

I said to Paul: “You mean Mr. Lestrange is not your father?”

He shook his head vigorously. “My father died. He died in a diamond mine. That was before …”

I moved away from Myra and Lilias … with him.

“I didn’t know,” I said. “Mr. Lestrange always speaks of you as though he is your father.”

“No, my father died and then my mother married him. I’m not his son. I have a real father. Only he’s dead.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

He pressed his lips together and held his head high.

I was thinking: I knew there were secrets in this house.

Myra was saying: “Paul is very interested in the house, aren’t you, Paul?”