I nodded.

“He had found some lace mats in his luggage … only small things. He said he had swept them up at some time when he was getting his things together. He thought they might be valuable … special lace and so on … and he wanted to return them.”

“And he did? And are they valuable?”

“I don’t know. I’d never seen them before. I did not know they were missing. I just put them back in the room which had been his. Surely you didn’t think …”

“Not really. But, you see, Benedict having quarrelled with him …”

“Benedict never talks to me of that sort of thing. Mr. Gerson said there had been some misunderstanding. He didn’t want Benedict to know that he had seen me … and he thought our meeting like that was the best way of returning the mats.”

“He could be rather dangerous, you know,” I said.

“Dangerous?”

“Well, there was this quarrel. I thought he would not be coming to the house again.”

“He did tell me that he had been badly treated.”

“And you believed his side of the story.”

She shrugged her shoulders.

I did not know how far I could go and it occurred to me that I was getting into dangerous waters. Benedict had spoken to me on the spur of the moment, in the heat of his anger against Oliver Gerson and because he knew that I had overheard enough to piece some story together. He would trust my discretion. Perhaps I was going too far now.

“I don’t think it is wise to see him,” I finished lamely.

“It is good of you to worry about me, Rebecca. I’m all right. I would never take a lover … if that is what you are thinking. I love Benedict. I always have. I wish I didn’t. I’m a fool, I know, but I do. He is the only one I want. It’s not easy … being here with him when he shows so clearly that he does not love me.”

“Dear Celeste, forgive me.”

“There isn’t anything to forgive. I’m so glad you are here. You’ve helped me a lot. Sometimes I am so wretched, Rebecca.”

“You can always talk to me.”

“Talking helps,” she admitted. “You understand how it is.”

“Yes, I understand. I meant forgive me for thinking …”

“You mean about Oliver Gerson?”

“I think he could be a dangerous man,” I said.

It was always interesting to drink a cup of tea in Mrs. Emery’s room. Her all-seeing eyes missed little. I knew at once that something excited her.

She poured out the tea in her special cups.

“My goodness, Miss Rebecca, that Mr. Marner is a one, isn’t he? You can’t help noticing that he’s around … singing that one about kangaroos and things. You’d think you was in the wilds of Australia. But you can’t help liking him. He’s got a smile for everyone … no matter who. Mind you, he’s not exactly what I’d call a true gentleman.”

“It depends on your definition of a gentleman, Mrs. Emery.”

“Oh, I know one when I see one. I’ve always worked for them. But he’s a bit of a caution. That Miss Belinda thinks the sun shines out of his eyes.”

“She is apt to get these feelings for people … and mostly men.”

“She’ll be a little Madam when she grows up, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“Some children are like that. They are attracted by people and put them on a pedestal.”

I was rejoicing that her adoration for Oliver Gerson had waned and that Tom Marner had clearly stepped into his shoes.

“It does you good to hear them all laughing away,” she said. “Another cup?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Emery. It’s delicious.”

She nodded, gratified.

“Have you noticed the change in that Leah?”

“Leah?” I queried.

“A bit of a misery, I used to think. Might have had all the troubles of the world on her shoulders. Well, she’s changed. Now there she is laughing away with the children and that Mr. Marner. Do you know, I heard her singing the other day.”

“What … Leah?”

“I couldn’t believe my ears. She used to go round with that mournful face as though she was going to a funeral. Now chatting away she is … and she was always such a close customer.”

“I’m glad. Mr. Marner seems to have made himself very popular.”

“I suppose he’ll soon be moving on.”

“I’m afraid so. There will be lamentations in the nursery.”

“Miss Belinda will be very sorry … that Leah, too. By the way, it’s good news about the shuffle. That’s what Emery calls it. Something to do with the government. It seems it’s really coming now … after all the talk about it.”

“You mean the Cabinet reshuffle.”

“Emery knows all about these things. I reckon he ought to have gone in for it himself. He thinks there’s a good chance of something coming out of it for our gentleman.”

“Mr. Lansdon?”

“Who else? It’s not only Emery. There’s a bit in the paper. Emery cuts bits out and saves them, you know. Emery would like the Foreign Office for him but he doesn’t think there is going to be a change there. The Home Office would be good. Or the War Office … Emery says.”

“You’re very ambitious for him.”

“Emery’s a very ambitious man.”

I could not help smiling at this perfect example of the joys of reflected glory.

“We’re keeping our fingers crossed … Emery and me …”

I was still smiling. A session with Mrs. Emery was as refreshing as her tea.

When I was passing Benedict’s study, he opened the door suddenly and stood smiling at me.

“Rebecca, could you spare a moment?”

“But of course.”

“Then come in.”

I went in, he indicated a chair and I sat down. He took his place at his desk and we sat facing each other.

“I thought I’d let you know,” he said. “I am definitely out of the club business. The deal has gone through.”

“That must be a great relief to you.”

“Yes, it is. The Devil’s Crown decided me. I only wish I could have done it years ago.”

“I hear there is a possibility of a Cabinet post.”

“A possibility,” he admitted. “There’s only a hint at the moment, but I think there is almost certain to be one.”

“Well, good luck.”

“Thank you.”

“The Emerys are very eager for your success.”

He smiled. “I gathered that from Emery.”

“They are very loyal.”

He nodded. “And one needs loyalty in this business.”

“It’s very acceptable in any.”

“I thought I’d tell you about the clubs because of our little talk the other day. It was what your mother would have wanted.”

We were silent for a moment.

Then he said: “By the way, Gerson hasn’t been prowling round, has he?”

I had a quick vision of him, coming out of The Hanging Judge with Celeste.

“Around the house … no, I shouldn’t think so.”

“That’s good. I never discovered how he got that key. I should like to know. I don’t suppose I ever shall. But that sort of thing shakes one. I’ve always been so careful.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s a mystery.”

I rose. Our conversation seemed to have come to an end and our relationship was still such that there was embarrassment between us.

I said: “I’m glad about the clubs. I am sure it is for the best.”

He nodded. “I thought you’d like to know.”

I went to the door and as I did so, he said: “You shouldn’t be so much in the country. You should be in London … getting out and about. That was what your season was for.”

“I prefer to be in the country.”

“Might you not regret it later?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Has something happened?” he asked.

“Something happened …” I repeated stupidly.

“You seem withdrawn lately. Brooding on something, are you?”

“I’m all right.”

“Well, if I can help …”

I shook my head.

“I really think you are making a mistake in shutting yourself away like this. What’s happened to Morwenna Cartwright? Wasn’t she supposed to launch you into society?”

“That was at the time.”

“Well, it goes on, doesn’t it?”

“I think I am supposed to be launched now.”

“It’s no good shutting yourself away in the country.”

“I assure you I’m all right.”

“If it is what you want …”

“It is.”

“Are you sure there is nothing wrong? Nothing I can do to help?”

“Thank you. There is nothing.”

He looked at me quizzically. He was trying hard to put things right between us. He would be telling himself that he ought to do it for my mother’s sake. He had now sold out of the clubs because that was what she wanted him to do. No. It was not because of that. Had he not clung to them for all these years? No, he wanted to become a Cabinet minister and as such he could not be involved in them. I must not forget that he had kept his secret papers in what was supposed to be a shrine to my mother.

In the midst of his sentimentality, Benedict would always be practical.

I went out and closed the door.

Benedict had gone to London and Celeste had not gone with him.

She had been very quiet and I was wondering whether she was seeing Oliver Gerson. I had a twinge of conscience because when Benedict had asked me if I had seen him round the place I had said no. What else could I have said? It would have been tantamount to a suggestion that there was some sort of relationship between Oliver Gerson and Celeste.

It was midmorning when Mrs. Emery came to my room. I knew something dramatic had happened by her expression.

“What is it? “I cried.

“It’s Mrs. Lansdon …”

“What of her?” I asked in alarm.

“She’s not in her room. Her bed hasn’t been slept in.”

“Could she have gone to London?”

Mrs. Emery shook her head. “It seems as if her things are all there.”

“You mean she has just walked out … taking nothing.”

“As far as I can see, Miss Rebecca.”

“I’ll come up there.”

I went to their bedroom. The room was in order. The maid had turned down the bed as she did every evening and it was as smooth as it would have been when she made it on the previous morning.

I turned to Mrs. Emery in dismay.

“She must have gone last night,” she said.

“Gone? Gone where?”

“Search me,” said Mrs. Emery. “She could have gone anywhere.”

“What has she taken with her?”

“Nothing as far as I can see. Better get that Yvette. She’s always been her personal maid. She’d know what’s going on.”

“Let’s get her right away.”

Yvette came.

“When did you last see Mrs. Lansdon?” I asked.

“Why, Mademoiselle, it was last night.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

Yvette looked blank. “She send for me when she is ready … to dress her hair … I wait till I am called. This morning … she has not call. I think she does not wish for me …”

“Did she seem all right last night?”

“A little quiet … perhaps. But then … she is so … now and then.”

“She didn’t say she was going to meet somebody?”

“No, Mademoiselle. She say nothing to me.”

“Do you not bring her something in the morning … tea … chocolate … coffee?”

“If she ask, yes. If not, I leave her. She likes to sleep late some mornings.”

“Will you look at her clothes, Yvette, and tell me if anything is missing?”

She went to the cupboard and the wardrobe; she opened the drawers.

“No … nothing … there is only the grey velvet she was wearing last night.”

“So that is the only thing that has gone?”

“Yes, Mademoiselle, and the grey shoes she wear with it.”

“Her coat?”

“There is a coat which go with the grey velvet. That here. Some of her clothes go … last week. She gave them away to people in the cottages … as she does … always. There is nothing else missing.”

“What about her handbag?”

“She have a beautiful crocodile one now. Yes, that is here.”

“It would seem that she went out without anything but what she was wearing.”

“Perhaps she take a walk.”

“Last night? And was she in the habit of taking walks?”

Yvette shook her head vigorously. “Non, non, non,” she said emphatically.

I told Yvette that she could go and when she had left I turned to Mrs. Emery. “This is very mysterious,” I said. “Where can she be?”

Mrs. Emery shook her head.

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

“Perhaps she went for a walk and has fallen and hurt herself … not able to get back to the house. Yes, that’s the most likely.”

“We’ll get Mr. Emery to organize a search. She has to be here near the house. Yvette says she did not go for a walk. But you never know. The impulse may have taken her. We’ve got to start looking without delay.”