“It’s my gandmother’s genius and the Countess’s knowledge of salesmanship which has made us that.”

“Still, it bears your name, and I think you have a great pride in the place.”

“Of course I have.”

“It will be wonderful if we go to Paris,” said Cassie.

“We shan’t,” I said sharply. “We haven’t the money.”

“Your grandmother thinks we shall and so does the Countess. And you want to, don’t you, Lenore? I have seen your eyes sparkling at the thought of that shop in the Rue Saint-Honore.”

“Go to Paris!” cried Julia. “That would be marvellous. We should all be popping over to buy.”

“We should still have the Salon in London.”

”Oh, but there is something about a garment bought in Paris. Even if it were exactly the same as one you bought here you would feel it was different. It would have the Paris touch.”

Cassie and I exchanged glances. Those were almost exactly the Countess’s words.

Julia laughed. “Do you know, I am sure you will get that Paris salon because you are determined to. Something will turn up, you see.”

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it did?” said Cassie.

“Look,” cried Julia. “I didn’t realize the bride had disappeared and here she is all ready. That mulberry is… wonderful. It makes even her look pretty. Those silver grey ruffles at the neck and sleeves are a touch of genius.”

There was great excitement over the departure of the newly married pair; and finally the carriage left.

I turned to Cassie and said: “We can go now.”

I received a letter from Drake. He was working very hard in the constituency and there was a great deal to do. He missed our meetings in the park and he wanted to know if I with Katie, Caissie and my grandmother—and the Countess if she wished to come—would care to spend Christmas at Swaddingham.

We were all delighted at the prospect, but the Countess had already had an invitation to the Mellors’ country house and she thought she ought to take it. So it would be just Grand’mere, Cassie, Katie and I who should go.

I was delighted at the prospect of seeing the Manor House at Swaddingham. Those meetings in the park seemed a long way in the past and I had been realizing more and more every day how I missed them.

“We’re rather a large party even without the Countess,” I said. “I wonder if there will be any other guests.”

”Well, you could hardly be asked without a chaperone,” said the Countess, “and that must be Madame Cleremont. And you couldn’t go without Katie—and Cassie would then be on her own which would be quite out of the question. A thoughtful gentleman would think of that—so it was one and all. You must have a special gown for the occasion, Lenore.”

”I’d thought of that,” said Grand’mere.’ ‘Scarlet velvet would be nice.” She looked at the Countess who was nodding in agreement.

Secret glances passed between them. I knew them well enough to understand what they were expecting. And of course it concerned Drake and myself.

Katie and I walked in the park, she hugging a coloured ball in which she took great delight. She had to wait until we were in the park before she could bounce it and as soon as we arrived she began to throw it and run forward to catch it.

She chanted a little ditty to herself—laughing, smiling and giving out a little cry of mock despair when she failed to catch it.-

I thought back nostalgically to those days when it had been warm enough to sit about. There were fewer children here now. The nannies no longer sat on the benches knitting or chatting with one another about their charges.

I was thinking of Christmas. Grand’mere was engrossed in the red velvet gown. It would be a gown to make me look my best.

I was very much looking forward to the visit. I had missed Drake more than I had realized I should. I could imagine myself sharing his enthusiasms. And the salon? Well, I should keep my interest in that, of course.

I had a strong feeling that during this Christmas Drake was going to ask me to marry him. And if my premonition was right, was I going to say yes? I knew that therein lay happiness. I had, though, not quite recovered from Philip’s death; but I knew too that I could do no good by brooding on it. I needed a fresh start and Drake, with whom I was already falling in love, was the man to lead me to it.

Katie gave a shout of dismay. She had bounced her ball too high and it had gone over a low iron fence enclosing rose bushes which even at this time of the year sported a few blooms.

I ran up to Katie but someone was there before me. He was leaning over the fence and rescuing the ball with his walking stick. Katie stood beside him, jumping up and down in her glee because she saw that he was going to retrieve her ball.

He had taken it in the crook of his stick and drew it towards him; then he lifted it up and with a bow handed it to Katie.

“Oh, thank you,” she cried. “You are so clever. What a wonderful stick. Is it magic?”

”Ah,” he said in a foreign accent. ”Magic? Who shall say?”

Katie studied him with grateful eyes. She turned to me. “I have the ball back, Mama.”

He turned to me. My heart gave a jolt. It was the man I had noticed previously and who appeared to have been watching me.

I stammered: “It was so kind of you. Thank you.”

Katie went on jumping while he looked at me searchingly. I had a notion that the meeting was not accidental.

I said: “I…I think I have seen you before in the park.”

“Yes,” he replied. “I come here. It is great bonne chance that I am here when the ball goes over the fence.”

“I am sure my daughter thinks so.”

“She is most charming.”

“Well, my grateful thanks. She would have been so unhappy to have lost her ball. Come along, Katie. I think you should not bounce it so high near the fence.”

Katie held the precious ball tightly in one hand and took mine with the other,

“Thanks again,” I said to the man. “Good day.”

He took off his hat and stood bareheaded bowing, the wind ruffling his greying hair.

As I walked off I could sense his eyes following me. He was French, I thought, judging by his accent; and he had charming manners.

Katie kept talking about him. ”He was rather a funny man.”

“Funny?”

”He talked funny.”

“That was because he was a foreigner. But he was good with the ball.”

“Yes,” agreed Katie. “He pulled it up with his stick. He is a nice man.”

When we reached home Katie told Grand’mere about the man who had recovered her ball.

“That was nice of him,” commented Grand’mere.

“He was a foreigner. He talked like you … Grand’mere … a bit like you. He said bonne chance when he meant lucky.”

“Oh … French,” said Grand’mere.

“He was very charming and polite,” I told her.

“Of course,” she said.

We arrived at Swaddingham two days before Christmas Eve. Drake was at the station to meet us. He was delighted to see us. Katie could not keep still, so excited was she. Grand’mere was quieter than usual but there was a look of intense happiness on her face.

“I hope you are going to like my manor,” said Drake. “I’m growing more and more devoted to it. My sister Isabel and her husband Harry Denton are staying over Christmas. Isabel said I needed a hostess and has offered herself for the part. I think you’ll like her. She is longing to meet the famous Lenore … and you all of course … not forgetting Katie.”

Katie gave him her dazzling smile and bounced up and down on her seat.

She said: “Riding in a carriage is very nice. I like horses.”

“We ought to teach you to ride,” said Drake.

“Oh yes … yes …”

“Riding is not very easy in London,” I pointed out.

“It’s easy here.”

He smiled at me and I felt happy.

I was fascinated by the house when I saw it. It was predominantly Tudor—black beams with whitewashed panels in between, the upper part projecting beyond the ground floor.

Drake had pulled up. He sat for a few seconds watching the effect the house had on me.

I turned to him smiling. “It’s wonderful,” I said. “I could really feel I was back three hundred years.”

“That’s the effect it has. Isabel complains of the inconvenience of the kitchens and so on. But I wouldn’t change one little bit of it. I’m so glad you like it.”

He leaped down and helped us all out.

The big oak door opened and a woman came out. She was fresh complexioned and sufficiently like Drake to tell me that this was his sister Isabel. She smiled warmly.

“Welcome,” she said. “I’m so glad to meet you at last. Do come in.”

We went into the hall, which had a high vaulted roof. There was a fire blazing in the enormous fireplace.

“Are you cold and hungry?” she asked. “Oh, here’s my husband. Harry, come and meet our guests.”

Harry Denton appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had a charming, easy manner and I liked him on the spot just as I had Drake’s sister.

I felt this was going to be a very happy Christmas.

Isabel insisted on our drinking a glass of hot punch to warm us up. “Then you shall go to your rooms.”

“Punch?” cried Katie. “How can you drink punch?”

“You’ll see,” Isabel told her.

I said that Katie might have a little … watered down.

Katie was very intrigued. She thought she was in a very exciting household where people were named Drake—although she had accepted that one by now—but not to drink punch.

“What a funny house,” she said.

“Darling, it’s a wonderful house,” I admonished.

“Yes … but funny.”

Isabel showed us our rooms. We went up a staircase of solid oak. Drake could not resist telling us that the staircase had been put in for a king’s visit, for King Henry VIII had actually stayed at the house for two nights. That was when the house had been transformed and changed from a dilapidated Saxon dwelling into a Tudor house. On one side of the newel was engraved the Tudor rose and on the other the fleur-de-lys.

We came to a landing. Here were our bedrooms—a small one each for Grand’mere and Cassie, and for Katie and me a much larger room with a high ceiling and a floor which sloped, and windows with leaded panes looking out onto a garden.

“Are we going to sleep here?” whispered Katie.

I told her we were and she was awestruck.

Hot water was brought into the bedrooms as soon as we arrived.

“Could you be down in half an hour?” asked Isabel. “That will give you time to wash and unpack perhaps.” She smiled at me. “I’m so glad to meet you at last. Drake has talked so much about you.”

“Are you here often?” I asked.

“Yes. Since Drake was elected. He needs a hostess here. Harry and I like it. This house is part of my childhood. It has been in the Aldringham family since soon after it was Tudorized … so you see how we feel about it.”

“I can well understand.”

”I’ll be pleased to show you over it, but I daresay Drake will want to do that. He’s so proud of the old place. It has quite a history. Charles the First stayed in one of the bedrooms when he was being chased by Cromwell’s men. Of course he stayed in lots of houses … but we preserve his room. We never use it. It’s just as it was when he slept in it.”

“It must be wonderful to belong to such a family.”

“Well, we all belong to our families, don’t we? There is a family tree in the hall. I must show it to you. It goes right back to the sixteenth century. Collect the others when you’re ready and come down to the hall.”

Katie had been listening intently.

“What’s Cromwell’s men?” she asked.

I said: “I’ll explain later. It’s a long story and there isn’t time now.”

”Will they come chasing us … like they did that First man?”

I laughed. “Nobody’s going to come chasing us. It all happened a long time ago.”

When we went down to the hall Isabel was waiting for us. She said dinner would be served in about ten minutes.

I learned that Harry had a fairly large estate some thirty miles from Swaddingham. He had a good manager so it was easy for him to get away.

“It means,” said Isabel, “that we can almost always come here when Drake needs us. There is a certain amount of entertaining to do now that he is an M.P. He has to keep the constituents happy. There are all sorts of meetings here. Of course, he is in London a good deal, but I always tell him that I’m available when he needs me. I’ve always been something of a mother to Drake. He was only eight when our mother died. I was thirteen. I felt years older than he was. And that’s how it has always been.”