When we returned Lucie and Belinda, who were in the garden, came rushing up to us. Belinda caught Oliver Gerson’s arm.

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

“Ah,” said Oliver, looking mysterious. “On secret business.”

“What secret business? And what’s that?”

He put his fingers to his lips and smiled at me secretively.

Lucie hung on my arm. “What is it, Rebecca?” she pleaded.

“This,” said Oliver, holding up the parcel, “is the prize.”

“What prize? What prize?” shrieked Belinda.

“Shall we tell them?” asked Oliver, looking at me.

“I think so,” I replied judiciously. “It’s about time they knew.”

Belinda was jumping up and down, unable to contain her excitement.

Oliver said: “On Christmas Day … after the feast … there is going to be a treasure hunt.”

“Treasure … what treasure?”

“Miss Rebecca and I have planned it for you.”

“For us?” cried Lucie, as excited as Belinda.

“For you and all the children who are here. There will be others so there will be fierce competition.”

“Tell!” demanded Belinda.

“This, as I told you, is the prize … the treasure, you might say. The one who wins it will bring us the clues. We shall give you one to start with and then you will go off and search for the other five. They are all in the garden. When you have them you bring them to us … that is to Miss Rebecca and to me. We shall be in the summerhouse waiting for the first one to come in. When she … or perhaps he … as there will be other children … arrives with the six then the treasure will be handed over.”

“What a lovely game,” said Belinda. “You do think of the loveliest games, Mr. Gerson.”

“It is my pleasure in life to please you, Miss Belinda.”

“And me?” asked Lucie.

“You too, Miss Lucie … and Miss Rebecca, of course … and all the others who will join us on Christmas Day.”

“When can we have the clues?” asked Belinda.

“Not until you are all assembled. This has to be fair, you know.”

They talked about the treasure hunt for the rest of the day. There was no doubt that it had been a good idea.

“Now we have to pray for a fine afternoon,” I said. “Disappointment would indeed be bitter if the weather put an end to the treasure hunt.”

Christmas Day dawned dry but dull. There was a dampness in the air, but we hoped that the rain would hold off. At least it was not particularly cold.

We all went to the church in the morning and as soon as we were back the carol singers came. “The First Noël,” “The Holly and the Ivy,” “The Twelve Days of Christmas” and “O Come All Ye Faithful”—it was always moving to hear the well-loved words and music.

After the performance the singers came into the hall; my stepfather made a little speech of thanks; and all were served with hot punch and mince pies, which were handed round by the children, supervised by Celeste.

After that we dined … the children at the small table with Leah, and the rest of us at the great oak one in the center of the hall. There was a great deal of laughter. I watched my stepfather at the head of the table being very charming to his guests and I asked myself: Why cannot he be like that with his family? Celeste, at the other end of the table, was trying to do what was expected of her. I found myself next to Oliver Gerson. I think he had arranged that, but I was not displeased. It meant that I could enjoy a certain amount of lighthearted conversation.

Every now and then he would glance over to the little table. I saw him catch Belinda’s eye and lift his hand in acknowledgment. A smile immediately lightened her face. I warmed towards him. He had succeeded admirably in making hers a happy Christmas.

How different from my stepfather who was so completely immersed in his own ambitions that he had no time to spare for others.

I said: “It looks as though all is set fair this afternoon.”

“It must be. Otherwise we should have to devise some other entertainment.”

“It must keep fine. There is so much enthusiasm for the treasure hunt. Belinda and Lucie had been talking of nothing else since they heard of it. Even the excitement of Christmas gifts has taken second place.”

The meal seemed to go on for a long time but at last it was over.

All the children had been told of the arranged treasure hunt and were all eager to be there.

“It’s always a trial,” Mrs. Emery had said, “knowing what to do with them. They’re wide awake and everyone else is half asleep. It’s a fine way of getting them from under our feet. That Mr. Gerson knows what’s what. To see him with those two girls makes you think he should have some of his own.”

At last they were assembled and Oliver gave them the first clue.

He told them: “Miss Rebecca and I will be in the summerhouse. The first one who brings us the six clues will be presented with the mystery treasure. Here it is.” He held up the parcel which was tied up with red ribbon.

“We shall need six little pieces of paper like this one. Now … wait for the signal. Ready. Steady. Go!”

As we made our way to the summerhouse I said to him: “Don’t you think Belinda and Lucie have an unfair advantage? They know the garden so much better than the others.”

“Life is full of unfair advantages,” he replied. “It is impossible to avoid them.”

“Well, I suppose one or two others might be a little older. I know William Arlott is.”

“There, you see. One has it one way … one another.”

There were two chairs in the summerhouse and we seated ourselves.

“Do you think we shall wait long?” I asked.

“No. The clues were easy. Someone will triumph before long, never fear.”

“Belinda desperately wants to.”

“I hope she does,” he said. “Poor child.”

“You say that with real feeling.”

“She’s an interesting little girl. Bright too … oh, very bright. She is not entirely happy, is she?”

“No. She is often very difficult.”

He nodded.

“But,” I went on, “she is better lately. You have done a lot for her.”

“I think she misses her parents.”

“Yes. It is sad when a child is left as she has been. The most important person in the world to a child is its mother and she lost hers before she knew her.”

“What of Leah?”

“There couldn’t be anyone better in the circumstances. She has done everything for the child. I think she may have indulged her too much. Sometimes I’m worried about Lucie because there is a decided preference …”

“Lucie is a friendly child, isn’t she? Does it worry her?”

“I don’t know. Children are so secretive about some things. They don’t always tell you their innermost thoughts. Belinda reminds her now and then that she is the daughter of the house. Lucie’s birth was mysterious. Her mother was half crazy and no one knows who her father was.”

“And strangest of all … you adopted her.”

“It was my grandparents actually. I was only about fifteen at the time. But I just had this conviction that I couldn’t leave her. I could not have done it, of course, if my grandparents had not been so good. If it had not been possible for me to take Lucie with me they would have looked after her at Cador. But when we came to London my stepfather made no objection to her being with us … and she has been here ever since.”

“If there had been a reason for a child’s lack of feeling of security, one would have thought Lucie might have felt it rather than Belinda.”

“Lucie accepts what she is. She knew that she came into the family in an unconventional way but she accepts me as a mother-sister as a family relationship, I am sure; and she and Belinda are as close as two sisters. There are naturally occasional quarrels, but fundamentally they are fond of each other.”

He took my hand and held it tightly: “I think it was wonderful of you to take the child in,” he said.

“I had a compulsion to do so, as I told you.”

“Yes, you must have had.”

“And I have never regretted it.”

“And if you marry …?”

“I would never marry unless my husband accepted the child.”

I smiled, thinking of Pedrek who understood my feelings. My thoughts had slipped away to the future. We should be so happy. They would all understand about Lucie. There would be no problem as there would certainly be if I had contemplated marrying someone else.

The door was flung open. Oliver released my hand which he was still holding. Belinda stood there.

“You have brought me the clues and you have come to claim the treasure,” said Oliver.

She shook her head. She was near to tears.

“I have five,” she said. “I can’t find the last one. I’ve looked everywhere. Lucie’s nearly there … I want the treasure. It ought to be mine. This is my house.”

“That’s nothing to do with it,” I told her. “This is a game and you have to win fairly. You must not be a bad loser.”

Oliver Gerson held out his hand and she went and leaned against him. He opened her clenched fingers and took out the screwed-up pieces of paper.

“It’s the last one,” she said in heartbroken tones. “I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What does it say on number five?” he asked. He read aloud:

“‘Over the water you must seek

Beside the winged and noble Greek.’ ”

He took her by the shoulders and she watched his lips expectantly.

“You’re not thinking hard enough,” he said. “You know where the water is, don’t you?”

She shook her head.

“Who is the noble Greek?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Who’s got wings on his heels?”

She looked blank.

“Where do the water lilies grow?”

“On the pond.”

“Well, isn’t that water, and what’s above it? The statue, I mean?”

Her eyes widened with joy.

“Well, you know where to find it. So … go and get it.”

When she had gone I said: “That’s cheating. You practically told her.”

“I know.”

“But is isn’t fair to the others.”

“They won’t know.”

“But … Mr. Gerson …”

“Do you think you could call me Oliver? It’s quite a distinguished name really. Oliver Goldsmith, Oliver Cromwell … Oliver Gerson.”

“You’re straying from the point. You cheated.”

“I had to.”

Belinda came rushing into the summerhouse, proudly waving the six clues. “I’ve found them. I’ve found them. I’ve won the treasure.”

He took the pieces of paper from her hand.

“All present and correct,” he said. “You are the first. You have won the treasure. Now we must call in the others and they must witness the presentation.”

We came out of the summerhouse. I was still shaken by what he had done.

He called: “Children of the Treasure Hunt, the treasure has been found. All assemble at the summerhouse.”

Belinda was jumping up and down with glee. Lucie was already running up.

“I nearly had it,” she told me. “I was on the last one.”

The others arrived.

Oliver Gerson lifted the beribboned parcel aloft and cried: “The hunt is over. Belinda is the triumphant one. Miss Belinda Lansdon, the treasure is yours.”

He put the parcel into her hands. Her face expressed her delight. She put the parcel into Lucie’s hands and for a moment I thought she was giving it over to her. But all she wanted to do was put her arms round Oliver and hug him; she kissed him heartily when he stooped to her.

Then she took the parcel from Lucie and held it tightly in her arms.

Never had I seen such joy on her face before. Oliver Gerson had given Belinda the happiest Christmas she had ever known.

For some time Belinda was in a state of bliss. Long after the chocolates were eaten the box, complete with red ribbons, was given a place of honor in the nursery and I often saw Belinda’s eyes rest on it, alight with loving memory.

Oliver Gerson was her hero. It did not seem to occur to her that the method by which she had won the trophy was not strictly honorable. She had won it and that was all that mattered. She may have been helped to it by Oliver Gerson but that only endeared him to her the more. He was, to her, the perfect knight.

I talked to him about the treasure hunt the very next day. I was in the garden when he joined me.

He said: “You are looking at me a little reproachfully. Are you still thinking of the treasure hunt?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Come and sit awhile in the summerhouse. I want to talk and we shan’t be interrupted there.”