“Who had done it?”

She lifted her shoulders and raised her eyes. There was a sad brooding look in them.

“Perhaps it was unwise to go,” I said.

“Oh no … no …” She dismissed the subject. “Cassie tells me that Mr. Aldringham called.”

“Yes, I have met him now and then in the park. Katie’s taken quite a fancy to him … and he has to her.”

“I liked him when we met.”

“Yes, I know.”

She smiled at me. “I’m glad you’ve been seeing him.” Then she added cryptically: “You can’t go on mourning forever.”

It was my turn to change the subject. “The Countess I am sure thinks that in time we shall come round to her way of thinking.”

“I will never agree to borrow.”

“Nor I. So it seems a waste of time to look at shops in Paris.”

”She was right about us in the beginning and we did have to spend a little to get things going.”

“That was different. We were desperate then. Now we have a steady business. I would not want to go through that anxiety again.”

“There is only one way I would agree to go into it,” said Grand’mere.

“And that?”

“If we had the money. If some benefactor invested in us.”

“That is quite impossible.”

“Unlikely but not impossible.”

She was thoughtful again and I said: “Grand’mere, what’s on your mind?”

“Only that that shop in the Rue Saint-Honore” was very enticing.”

“Put it out of your mind. There is plenty of work here for us.”

“I can’t wait to get on with it.” She kissed me. “It’s good to be home,” she said.

We had settled down to the old routine. Katie and I met Drake frequently, and I looked forward to those meetings. They formed a certain pattern. We would often find him waiting for us. Katie would run up and give a quack to which he responded. It was the recognized greeting between them. The same joke would amuse Katie again and again.

She would play with her friends while we talked. There was much to tell each other. I found I could talk to him freely and I was sure he felt the same about me. He spent a certain amount of time at Swaddingham.

“I wish you could see the house,” he said. “It’s an Elizabethan manor. It was an inn at the beginning of the fifteenth century, then it became a private residence and enlarged, so that while part of it is Saxon, the lower floors are entirely Tudor. There is quite a bit of land. So I am a sort of squire. If ever I lost my seat in Parliament I should devote myself entirely to my squiral duties.”

”Would you like that?” I asked.

“It would only be second best.” He looked at me seriously. “Sometimes one has to settle for that.”

“That’s true. At least you have a second string. In that you are fortunate.”

“I wonder if you and Katie would visit me at Swaddingham?”

“It sounds exciting.”

“Perhaps you and your grandmother could bring Katie.”

“I am sure we should enjoy that very much.”

“Well, when the House is in recess we’ll go. One can never be sure when one is going to be called in for some important vote … so that would be the best time.”

“Do invite us.”

I told him about our dilemma.

“The Countess is rather different from Grand’mere and me. She is full of energy … something of a gambler. She wants to expand and open a place in Paris.”

“And you do not? You surprise me.”

“I do want to … very much, but I dare not take risks.”

“Is it such a risk?”

“It’s an enormous one. We should have to find the shop and it would be a very high rent in the right quarter. Then we have to stock it … and get staff. We should have to do it in style now. When we opened here we were just beginners and we could start in a humble way. We could not do that now. The Countess wouldn’t hear of it. She would say it would do us more harm than good. We have to do everything in grand style. Grand’mere and I see exactly what she means. If it worked it would be wonderful; but if it failed we could be ruined. Grand’mere and I do not take such risks.”

“I think you are probably wise.”

“Who shall say? The Countess thinks we are unenterprising.”

“Better be that than bankrupt.”

“I agree.”

“So you are in a dilemma.”

“Not really. Grand’mere and I are adamant.”

“But regretful,” he said.

“Yes, regretful.”

We were talking animatedly when Julia came along. She was stylishly dressed in a costume of midnight blue edged with sable. She looked very elegant in a type of riding hat with an ostrich feather trailing over the brim. I had seen the costume and the hat before for they had both come out of our showrooms and when I saw them, my first thought was: Grand’mere has genius.

Julia opened her eyes with surprise; but I immediately thought that this did not express her true feeling, and I had a notion that she had come out here to find us. It must have been that we had been seen together by some of her friends and that our meetings were a matter of some interest. As a widow with a child I was not expected to lead such a restricted existence as a young unmarried woman and the fact that I had been seen at the same spot on several occasions with an eligible bachelor would cause some speculation.

“Well, fancy finding you here! Of course … you come with Katie. Children do love the parks.” She sat down beside us. I felt insignificant in my simple walking costume beside her in all her glory.

“I like to take a walk now and then,” she said. “Exercise is supposed to be good for you. I have the carriage waiting for me not far off. I thought, Drake, that you were in Swaddingham.”

“I shall have to go down in a day or so.”

”Of course. You have to get them all in a good humour before the election. When do you expect it?”

“In the not too distant future.”

“I’ll come and help,” said Julia.

“That’s kind of you.”

“I find politics fascinating,” she went on. “All that going among the people and kissing the babies … and you’re half way there.”

“It’s not quite as easy as that,” said Drake with a laugh. “Our opponents might be good baby-admirers, too.”

“Poor Drake! He works so hard,” said Julia, laying a hand on his arm. “He really is wonderful.”

“You have too high an opinion of me.”

“I am sure that would be impossible. You must come and dine tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” he said.

She smiled at me. “Sorry I can’t invite you, Lenore. You see, it is so difficult. There is a shortage of men … and a woman on her own …”

“Oh, I quite understand.”

“You ought to get married. Don’t you agree, Drake?”

”I think that is a matter for Lenore to decide for herself.”

“Of course these things can be helped along.”

I looked at my watch and said it was time I was going. I called Katie who came running up.

“Hello, Aunt Julia.”

“Hello, my darling.” Julia kissed Katie effusively.

“You smell nice,” said Katie.

“Do I, dear? You must come and see me some time soon.”

“When?” asked Katie.

“We must wait to be asked definitely, Katie,” I said.

“We’re asked now.”

“Aunt Julia will tell us when she wants us.”

“But she said …”

“We really must go,” I insisted.

“Of course,” said Julia. “We’ll excuse you, won’t we, Drake?”

“I’ll escort Lenore and Katie home,” said Drake.

Julia pouted. Then she said brightly: “I’ll tell you what. We’ll ride in my carriage.”

I was about to protest when Katie cried: “Oh yes …please.”

And so we rode home.

Julia had somehow conveyed to me that she was displeased by my meetings with Drake. I remembered in the past how very taken she had been by him. She still was, I could see.

I was not sure of Drake. I think he was not pleased by the intrusion.

Katie was, however. She kept talking about the horses and sang clopetty-clop all the way home.

After that we often met Julia. She knew, of course, the time we should be there, and she would find us somewhere near the Serpentine; or if we were in St. James’s Park she knew we should be feeding the ducks.

“I do enjoy my little walks,” she said. “So good for one. And it is such fun to come upon familiar faces and sit down and talk.”

She dominated the conversation and managed to discuss people whom I did not know, so that I was often excluded.

I wondered what Drake was feeling. He was too polite to betray this, and sometimes I wondered whether he was pleased to see Julia. He did smile quite often at her inconsequential chatter. It was very feminine, I supposed, and perhaps he found that attractive.

She had a way of disparaging me through supposed compliments. “Of course, Lenore is such a wonderful business woman. I could never be that. It must be wonderful to be so self-reliant … such a wonderful manager … like a man really … Lenore doesn’t need any looking after.”

I don’t know why I should let it annoy me, but it did. She was, of course, calling attention to her own helpless femininity which was supposed to be so attractive to the opposite sex.

In any case those mornings were spoilt, and because I felt so bitterly disappointed I tried to analyse my feelings for Drake.

I so much enjoyed being with him; I was intensely interested in all he was doing and I felt I should like to share in it.

In his turn, he was interested in the shop. The Countess had said I must not call it “the shop.” It was “the salon.” “What’s in a name?” I had asked. “A tremendous amount,” she had retorted. ”I have often told you that it is not so much what things are as what people believe them to be. A shop is somewhere where things are sold over the counter. A salon is where artists deign to sell their work.”

“I’m learning,” I replied. “The salon it shall be.”

When I had told Drake this he had been very amused. He had listened intently to the story of our beginnings. He was so interested in everything I was doing. He enjoyed being with Katie and it was clear that she was fond of him. I had a cosy feeling that when we had walked back with Katie in between us, holding our hands, the Countess, who had seen us, had felt some approval. “You looked … right… like that,” she said.

As for Grand’mere, she had never been one to hide her feelings and her opinion was obvious.

I was very touched to consider how her one thought, throughout her life, had been to care for me. She had been heartbroken when Philip died; she had seen through my marriage all her dreams coming true. But I had been without Philip for a long time and she was visualizing another dream with Drake at the centre of it.

It would have been impossible for me not to consider which way I was going. Drake’s persistent visits to the park, our growing friendship, the manner in which a special light came into his eyes when he saw us—they were all significant. There was a possibility that he was falling in love with me.

He was eager for me to go down and see the manor at Swad-dingham and we were to pay the visit the first weekend after the Parliamentary recess.

And myself? I could never forget Philip and that honeymoon in Florence which had ended so tragically, and since my feelings for Drake were beginning to grow into something very serious, I thought of those days more and more.

I had grown up considerably since my marriage. I had been young, simple and innocent. I had known little of the world then. Perhaps Philip had been a little like that, too. We were like two children. Could we have gone on like that? I had suddenly been brought face to face with tragic reality. I had become a mother and there was now one person in my life who was more important to me than myself. I had learned something about the seriousness of making a living for myself and my child; and our close approach to failure and possible penury had matured me considerably. The worldly Countess had taught me a great deal about people. I no longer lived in that ideal world which I had believed lay ahead of Philip and me; there were things in life which were ugly and these had to be recognized and fully faced.

Now I was asking myself how deeply had my love for Philip gone; and had I built it up to such proportions since his death? Had I told myself I could never love a man again?

Had I really known Philip? Could it be possible that there had been some dark secret in his life and that he took his life rather than allow it to come to light? Was that just possible? No, I could not believe it. Philip had been good and true and innocent … as I was. Then why had it happened as it did? And if he had not shot himself who had and why? There was only one conclusion: Either Philip shot himself or someone else did. And in any case there must have been some dark secret in Philip’s life of which I had known nothing.