We alighted from the train and made our way out of the station.

"The church is not very far," I said. "Francine, Mr. Counsell and I went there in a trap and the people from the inn drove us there."

"Could you find the inn?"

"I am sure I could."

"Then we'll go there and have what they have to offer us to eat and then we can enquire about the trap to take us to Birley Church."

"I never felt less like eating."

"We need something. Besides, it will give us a chance to talk to the innkeeper."

We found the inn easily, and we were offered hot bread straight from the oven with cheddar cheese, sweet pickle and cider. It would have been tasty if I had been in the mood for eating.

"I have been here before," I told the innkeeper's wife.

"We get so many," she answered, apologizing for not remembering me.

"When I was here before, I visited Birley Church."

"We should really like to see it again," said Miss Elton. "How far is it?"

"Oh, some three miles or so from the edge of the town."

"Last time we drove there in a trap," I explained. "The trap was one of yours. Is it possible to take us again?"

She lifted her shoulders and looked faintly dubious. "I'll ask," she said.

"Oh, please arrange it," I begged. "It is so very important to me."

"I'll see what I can do."

"We shall have to pay her," I said when she had gone.

"Your grandfather gave me some money for this educational jaunt," said Miss Elton comfortingly. "And it won't be so very much surely."

The woman came back and said that the trap would be ready in half an hour. I was so impatient, it was hard to wait and as I sat there longing for the time to pass I saw a figure walk quickly past the window. I was sure it was the man I had seen getting on the train. So he had even arrived at this inn!

When the half hour was up, there was the trap waiting for us and I then saw the man again. He was examining one of the horses belonging to the inn and striking a bargain for it.

I immediately forgot him as we rattled along, for my mind was taken back so poignantly to when Francine and I had sat so close together as we drove along this road, and were so apprehensive of what awaited us at our grandfather's house.

We came to the church—small, grey and ancient—and made our way across the graveyard where many of the tombstones were brown with age and the engraving on them almost illegible. I remembered how Francine had read some of them aloud and I could hear her high laughter at the sentiments expressed. We went into the porch and I smelt that odour indigenous to churches of this kind—damp, age and some sort of furniture polish used for the pews. I stood facing the altar; the light flickering through the stained glass windows shone on the brass lectern and the gilded fringe of the altar cloth. There was silence everywhere.

Miss Elton at length broke it. "I suppose we should go to the vicarage," she said.

"Yes, of course. We must see the vicar."

We turned to go and as we did so the door creaked and a man came into the church. He looked curiously at us and asked if he could help.

"I'm the churchwarden here," he said. "Are you interested in the church? It's Norman, you know, and a very fine example for its size. It's been restored recently and we have had to repair a great deal of the tower. People don't come to see it very often, but that's because it's a bit off the map."

Miss Elton said, "We have a purpose other than to see the architecture. We wanted to know if it is possible to see the records. We want to make sure that a wedding took place here."

"Well, if you have the dates and the names of the parties that should not be an impossibility. Our vicar is away until the week-end. That's why I'm looking in, you see. If I can be of any help... ."

"Could you show us the records?" I asked eagerly.

"I could do that. They're kept in the vestry. I'll have to get the keys. Was it very long ago?"

"No. Four years," I said.

"Well, there should be no problem there. People usually want to see a hundred years back. They're chasing their ancestors. There's a lot of that done nowadays. I'll just pop into the vicarage. I'll be back with you shortly."

When he had gone we looked at each other triumphantly. "I do hope you find what you want," said Miss Elton.

True to his promise, the churchwarden soon returned with the keys, and tingling with excitement I followed him into the vestry.

"Now ..." he said. "What date did you say? Ah yes ... Here it is."

I looked. It was true. There it was. Their names as clear as I could wish.

I gave a cry of triumph and turned to Miss Elton. "There!" I shouted. "There is no doubt. It's proved."

I was possessed by a great excitement for I knew that having proved Francine had been married, I was not going to leave it at that. I had to find out more of what happened. Moreover I had begun to be haunted by the thought of that little boy, the child who had liked to say my name and had called his troll after me.

As we came out of the church I thought I saw a figure lurking among the tombstones. It was a man. He was stooping over a grave and seemed to be reading the inscription on the stone.

I took no further notice. I was so elated by what I had seen that I could think of nothing else all the way home.

I could not wait to see my grandmother. I sat on the stool at her feet and told her what I had seen in the church register. She listened intently. "I'm glad," she said. "So Francine was speaking the truth."

"But why should they say that she was his mistress?" "I suppose it was because he was a man who was in an important position. It may be that he already had a wife." "I don't believe it. Francine was so happy." "My dear Philippa, you must stop thinking about it. Whatever happened, it's over and done with. You have your own life to think of. Soon you will be seventeen. What are you going to do?"

"I wish I could go to Bruxenstein. I wish I could find out what it was all about."

"You could not do that. Now if I were younger ... if I had my sight—"

"You would go with me, wouldn't you, Grandmother?" "I should be tempted to do so ... but just as it is impossible for me to do that, so is it for you. Dear child, what are you going to do about this matter nearer home? I have been thinking that if your grandfather insists that you marry your cousin, you might go and stay with Grace." "How could I? They have only one room in the vicarage." "It would be difficult I know. I am just trying to find a solution. You are clutching at straws, my dear child. You have immersed yourself in this mystery which you cannot solve, and even if you did, that would not bring your sister back. Meanwhile you yourself are in danger."

She was right, of course. Perhaps I should try to find a post as Miss Elton and I had at first thought I should. But who would employ me? When I considered that, the whole scheme seemed ridiculous.

The next day there was a dinner party. The guests were the Glencorns with their daughter Sophia. "Just a small,intimate dinner party," my grandfather had said, looking at me with the satisfaction he was beginning to show towards me. "Six is a pleasant number," he added.

I dressed disconsolately in the brown taffeta which Jenny Brakes had made for me. It didn't suit me. Brown was not my colour. I needed reds and emerald greens. Not that I was the least interested in clothes or how I looked now. My thoughts were far away with Francine's little boy. I felt I knew him. Fair-haired, blue-eyed, a miniature Francine holding a troll. What did a troll look like? I imagined some sort of Scandinavian dwarf. A troll whom he had named Pippa after me.

He was somewhere far away ... unless they had murdered him too. Perhaps they had, and being a child he did not rate a mention in the English papers.

I piled my hair on top of my head. It gave me height and took away that look of extreme youth. Now I looked like a person who might be able to defend herself.

I hated the thought of the dinner party. I had met the Glencorns once or twice. They lived in a big house on the edge of my grandfather's estate. I gathered he had bought land from the Glencorns who had reluctantly sold it because, as my grandfather remarked gleefully, they had no help for it. Sir Edward Glencorn had never been able to manage the estate he had inherited. He was a fool, said my grandfather. He despised fools, but the Glencorns were neighbours and when their property came on the market, which he was sure it must within the next few years, he wanted to get the first chance of acquiring it. Acquisition was the aim of my grandfather's life, which was why he had been so angry when the Grange had passed out of his orbit.

Land and people—he had a desire to possess them all, to make them work for him, to fulfil his plans. He was like an earthly God creating his own universe. So although he despised Sir Edward Glencorn he liked to be in his company, which naturally gave him an even greater sense of his superiority.

Dinner was an ordeal, as all meals were, and I found it hard to concentrate on the conversation. Being in the company of Cousin Arthur was making my flesh crawl more than ever. I knew the time was getting nearer when I should have to accept him or find myself alone and destitute.

At a gathering such as this it was hard to put all that behind me, and as I was still in a state of shock over Francine's fate, I was to say the least absentminded.

Sophia was a quiet girl, although I had always had the feeling that one could never really know her. Often I would find her watching me intently as though she were trying to read my innermost thoughts. If Francine had been with me and this terrible fear and uncertainty had not been hanging over me, I realized we should have been rather interested in Sophia Glencorn.

Sir Edward was complimenting me on my looks—quite conventionally, I was sure, for I knew that the brown taffeta suited neither my skin nor my colouring, and I must surely show some sign of my anxieties. Moreover he had been talking to me for some time and I couldn't remember what I had answered, so he must be thinking me half-witted.

"No longer the little girl, eh? Quite the young lady."

My grandfather was looking almost benign. "Yes, it is surprising how quickly Philippa has seemed to grow up."

Ominous words. I could see the plans in his eyes. The wedding ... the birth ... the heir, the little Ewell who would be moulded by my grandfather.

"Philippa is taking a great interest in the estate," added Cousin Arthur.

Was I? I hadn't noticed it. I cared nothing for the estate. My thoughts were entirely occupied with my own affairs and my sister.

My grandfather nodded, looking down at his plate. "One has to consider all the time," he said. "One inherits lands, possessions, and with them responsibilities."

How amused Francine would have been.

"Philippa is taking an interest in architecture also," went on Cousin Arthur.

How I wished they would not talk about me as though I weren't there.

"Miss Elton has groomed her in the subject," went on my grandfather. "What was that church you visited recently?"

I said it was Birley Church ... not far from Dover.

"Quite a way to go to see a bit of stone," commented Lady Glencorn.

Grandfather gave her an indulgent but rather contemptuous smile.

"Norman, wasn't it?" he said. "I believe the most interesting feature of Norman architecture is the way they built the roofs—timber boarding in the roof-trusses to make tunnel-shaped ceilings. Is that so, Philippa?"

I was only vaguely aware of what he was talking about, for Miss Elton and I had not thought of architecture until I wanted to go to Birley Church.

"Oh yes, yes," I said. "Miss Elton is rather sad because she will be leaving us so soon."

My grandfather could not hide his contentment. "Philippa is getting too grown up for a governess now. She will have other matters with which to concern herself."

It was strange, really, for I had never felt so important. But it only meant that I was now quite a significant piece on the chess-board to be moved this way and that at his pleasure.

I was glad when the meal was over and we went into the solarium where after-dinner wines and liqueurs were served when we had guests. Sophia was invited to play for us on the piano. She had quite a strong voice and she sang some of the old songs like "Cherry Ripe" and "Drink to me Only with Thine Eyes." This last she sang very soulfully while Arthur stood beside her and turned the leaves of the music as she sang. I noticed that when he leaned over and turned the page, his hand rested on her shoulder and lingered there for quite a while.