She peered at me and I looked back boldly. It was not my fault that I was lost. I had not been treated as a guest should be.

"Why do you come to see me, little girl?" she asked in a high-pitched voice. She was very pale and her hands shook. For a moment I thought that she was a ghost.

"I didn't. I'm playing hide and seek and I am lost."

"Come here, child."

I went.

She said, "I have not seen you before."

"I live in the rectory. I came to tea with Lavinia and this is supposed to be a game of hide and seek."

"People don't come to see me."

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "I am reading his letters," she said.

"Why do you look at them if they make you cry?" I asked.

"He was so wonderful. It was ill fortune. I destroyed him. It was my fault. I should have known. I was warned ..."

I thought she was the strangest person I had ever met. I had always sensed that extraordinary things could happen in this house.

I said I should have to go back to the schoolroom. "They will wonder where I am. And it is not very polite for guests to wander about houses, is it?"

She put out a hand which reminded me of a claw and gripped my wrist. I was about to call for help when the door opened and a woman came into the room. Her appearance startled me. She was not English. Her hair was very dark; her eyes deep set and black; she was wearing what I learned later was a sari. It was a deep shade of blue, rather like the fan, and I thought it beautiful. She moved very gracefully, and said in a pleasant sing-song voice: "Oh dearie me. Miss Lucille, what is this? And who are you, little girl?"

I explained who I was and how I came to be here.

"Oh, Miss Lavinia ... but she is a naughty, naughty girl to treat you so. Hide and seek." She lifted her hands. "And in this house ... and you find Miss Lucille. People do not come here. Missie Lucille likes to be alone."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

She patted my shoulder. "Oh no ... no ... it is naughty Miss Lavinia. One of these days ..." She pursed her lips, and putting the palms of her hands together, gazed up at the ceiling for a moment. "But you must go back. I will show you. Come with me."

She took my hand and pressed it reassuringly.

I looked at Miss Lucille. The tears were slowly running down her cheeks.

"This part of the house is for Miss Lucille," I was told. "I live here with her. We are here ... and not here ... You understand?"

I didn't, but I nodded.

We went back by way of the gallery and then through parts which I had not seen before and it seemed to me some little time before we reached the schoolroom.

The woman opened the door. Miss York and Miss Etherton were deep in conversation. There was no sign of Lavinia.

They looked startled to see me.

"What happened?" asked Miss Etherton.

"They play hide and seek. This little one ... in a house she does not know. She was lost and came to Miss Lucille."

"Oh, I am sorry," said Miss Etherton. "Miss Lavinia should have taken better care of her guest. Thank you, Ayesha."

I turned to smile at her. I liked her gentle voice and kind black eyes. She returned my smile and went gracefully away.

"I hope Drusilla didn't, er ..." began Miss York.

"Oh no. Miss Lucille lives apart with her servants. There is another ... both Indian. She was out there, you know. The family has connections with the East India Company. She is a little ... strange now."

Both governesses looked at me and I guessed the matter would be discussed further when they were alone.

I turned to Miss York and said, "I want to go home."

She looked uneasy, but Miss Etherton gave her an understanding smile.

"Well," went on Miss York, "I suppose it is about time."

"If you must ..." replied Miss Etherton. "I wonder where Miss Lavinia is. She should come and say goodbye to her guest."

Lavinia was found before we left.

I said, "Thank you," in a cold voice.

She said, "It was silly of you to get lost. But then you are not used to houses like this, are you?"

Miss Etherton said, "I doubt there is another house like this, Lavinia. Well ... you must come again."

Miss York and I left. Miss York's lips were pursed together, but she did say to me, "I should not care to be in Miss Etherton's shoes from what she told me ... and the boy is worse." Then she remembered to whom she was talking and said it had been really quite a pleasant visit.

I could hardly call it that, but at least it had held elements of excitement which I should not easily forget.

Although I was not eager to visit the house again, its fascination for me had increased. Whenever I passed it I used to wonder about the strange old lady and her companion. I was consumed with curiosity, for I was by nature inquisitive; it was a trait I shared with Polly.

I used to go down to my father's study on some days when he was not busy. It was always just after tea. I almost felt I was one of those things like his spectacles which he forgot about from time to time; it was when he needed his spectacles that he looked for them and when a sense of duty came over him he remembered me.

There was something lovable about his forgetfulness. He was always gentle with me and I was sure that if he had not been so concerned about the Trojan Wars he would have remembered me more often.

It was quite a little game talking with him, the object being for him to get onto some classical subject and for me to steer him away from it.

He always asked how I was getting on with my lessons and whether I was happy with Miss York. I thought I was doing quite well and told him that Miss York seemed satisfied.

He would nod, smiling.

"She thinks you are a little impulsive," he said. "Otherwise she has a good opinion of you."

"Perhaps she thinks I am impulsive because she is not."

"That could be so. But you must learn not to be rash. Remember Phaeton."

I was not quite sure who Phaeton was, but if I asked he would take possession of the conversation, and Phaeton could lead to some other character from those old days when people were turned into laurels and all sorts of plants, and gods became swans and bulls to go courting mortals. It seemed to me such an odd way of going on and in any case I did not believe it.

"Father," I said, "do you know anything about Miss Lucille Framling?"

A vague look came into his eyes. He reached for his spectacles as though they might help him to see the lady.

"I did hear Lady Harriet say something once ... Someone in India, I think."

"There was an Indian servant with her. I saw her. I got lost playing hide and seek and I found her. The Indian took me back to Miss York. It was rather exciting."

"I did know that the Framlings were somehow connected with India. The East India Company, I suppose."

"I wonder why she is shut off like that in a wing of the house."

"She lost her lover, I think I heard. That can be very sad. Remember Orpheus who went down to the underworld to search for Eurydice."

I was so preoccupied with the mystery of Miss Lucille Framling that I allowed my father to win that session and the rest of the time was taken up by Orpheus and his trip to the underworld to find the wife who had been snatched from him on their wedding day.

In spite of that unfortunate beginning, my acquaintance with Lavinia progressed and, though there was always a certain antipathy between us, I was attracted by her and perhaps most of all by the house, in which anything might happen; and I never entered it without that feeling that I was embarking on an adventure.

I had told Polly about the game of hide and seek and how I had met the old lady.

"Tut tut," she said. "There's a nice little madam for you. Don't know how to treat her guests, that's for certain. Calls herself a lady."

"She said the rectory was small."

"I'd like to get her carrying coal up them stairs."

I laughed at the thought.

Polly was good for me. She said: "You're a sight more of a little lady than she is. That's for sure. So you just stand up to her. Tell her a thing or two and if she don't like it, well, there's no harm done, is there? I reckon you could enjoy yourself somewhere nice with me ... more than that old house. Time for it to go to the knacker's yard if you was to ask me."

"Oh, Polly, it's the most marvellous house!"

"Pity it's got them living in it that don't know their manners."

I used to think of Polly when I went into the house. I was as good as they were, I reminded myself. I was better at my lessons. That had slipped out. I had heard Mrs. Janson say that that Miss Lavinia led Miss Etherton a nice dance and refused to learn when she didn't feel like it, so that that young lady was at least a couple of years behind some people. I knew who "some people" implied and I felt rather proud. It was a useful piece of knowledge to be remembered when I was in the presence of Lavinia. Moreover I knew how to behave better than she did, but perhaps she knew and refused to act as she had been taught. I had been in Lavinia's company long enough to know that she was a rebel.

Then there was Polly's admonition to give her as good as I got, so I did not feel quite so vulnerable as I had on that first occasion.

My father constantly said that all knowledge was good and one could not have too much of it. Miss York agreed with him. But there was one piece of knowledge that I could have been happier without.

Lady Harriet had smiled on my friendship with Lavinia and therefore it must persist. Lavinia was learning to ride and Lady Harriet had said that I might share her lessons. My father was delighted, and so I went riding with Lavinia. We used to go round and round the paddock under the watchful eyes of Joe Cricks, the head groom.

Lavinia enjoyed riding and therefore she did it well. She took a great delight in showing how much more proficient she was than I. She was reckless and did not obey orders as I did. Poor Joe Cricks used to get really scared when she disregarded his instructions and she was very soon ordering him to take her off the leading rein.

"If you want to feel good on your mount," said Joe Cricks, "don't be afraid of him. Let him see that you are the master. On the other hand ... there's dangers."

Lavinia tossed her tawny hair. She was fond of the gesture. Her hair was really magnificent and this called attention to it.

"I know what I am doing, Cricks," she said.

"I didn't say as how you didn't, Miss Lavinia. All I says is ... you have to consider the horse as well as yourself. You may know what you're doing but horses is nervous creatures. They get it into their heads to do something you might not be expecting."

Lavinia continued to go her own way; and her very boldness and assurance that she knew better than anyone else carried her through.

"She's going to be a good horsewoman," was Joe Cricks's comment. "That's if she don't take too many risks. Now, Miss Drusilla, she's a more steady party. She'll come to it in time ... then she'll be real good."

I loved the lessons, trotting round the paddock, the excitement of the first canter, the thrill of the first gallop.

It was one afternoon. We had had our lessons and had taken the horses back to the stables. Lavinia dismounted and threw her reins to the groom. I always liked to stay behind for a few minutes to pat the horse and talk to him, which was what Joe had taught us to do. "Never forget," he said. "Treat your horse well and the chances are he'll treat you well. Horses is like people. You have to remember that."

I came out of the stables and started across the lawn to the house. There I was to join Lavinia in the schoolroom for tea. Miss York was already there enjoying a tete-a-tete with Miss Etherton.

There were visitors in the house. There often were, but they did not concern us. We hardly ever saw Lady Harriet—a fact for which I was extremely grateful.

I had to pass the drawing-room, which was open, and I caught a glimpse of a parlourmaid serving tea to several people. I went hurriedly past, averting my eyes. Then I paused to look up at that part of the house which I thought must be Miss Lucille's quarters.

As I did so I heard a voice from the drawing room. "Who is that plain child, Harriet?"