Something someone had said flashed into my mind. I had heard of this place.

And there was the house-simple but beautiful clearly built at the time when architecture was at its most elegant-uncluttered, with long windows symmetrically placed on its brickwork, very plain so that the door with its fluted Doric type columns and glass fanlight seemed particularly handsome. The house was shut in by intricate ironwork which looked like lace and made a perfect frame for this charming residence.

I couldn't help pausing to admire and as I was about to ride on, the door opened and a woman came out. She was holding a child by the hand.

"Good afternoon," she called. "You can't go any further. It's a cul-de-sac."

"Oh thank you," I replied. "I was exploring and I paused to admire your house."

"It is rather pleasant, isn't it?"

"Very"

She was coming towards the railing. "You are from the school, aren't you?" "Yes. How did you know?"

"Well, I've seen most of them, but you are new." "I came at the beginning of the term."

"Then you must be Miss Grant."

"Yes, I am."

"One hears quite a lot in a place like this," she said. "How are you liking the school?"

She was up to the fence now. She was strikingly handsome in her dress of lilac-coloured muslin. Tall, willowy, she carried herself with an almost studied grace. Her abundant reddish brown hair was piled high on her head; her eyes were enormous, light brown, heavily lashed.

The child surveyed me with interest in her bright dark eyes.

"This is Miranda," said the woman.

"Hello, Miranda," I said.

Miranda continued to regard me with an unblinking stare.

"Would you like to come in? I'd show you the house. It's quite interesting."

"I'm afraid I haven't time. I have a class at three thirty."

"Perhaps another time. I'm Marcia Martindale."

Marcia Martindale! Sir Jason's mistress. Then the child was his. I felt myself recoil a little. I hoped she did not notice. I felt an immense pity for her. It must be most unpleasant to be a woman in her position. She would have placed herself in it, of course, but in what circumstances? My dislike for Sir Jason Verringer increased in that moment. What sort of man could he be to bring his mistress so near to his home and blatantly set her up in her own establishment with their child?

"Thank you," I heard myself say. "Another time ..."

"I'd be so glad to see you at Rooks' Rest."

I looked up at the tall elms. "Do the birds disturb you with their cawing?"

"One gets used to it. It wouldn't be the same without them."

"It is a beautiful house. It looks cool ... and aloof, as it were ... almost modern when compared with the Abbey and the Tudor Hall."

"It is very confortable and I am fond of it."

"You have lived in it for a long time, I suppose?"

"No. I came here just before Miranda was born. We're on the Verringer estate, you know. Well, most of the land about here is."

"Yes," I said coolly.

"Do come again. I like to hear about the school. Come when you have time. Have a cup of tea or a glass of something ... whatever you fancy. I hear that you are doing well at the school."

"Oh, where did you hear that?"

"One hears ..." She turned to the child. "I don't think we are going to persuade her to come in, Miranda," she said.

Miranda continued to regard me stolidly.

"She seems very interested in me at least," I said.

"Miranda is interested in everything about her and particularly people. Do promise to come and see me. I love to see people and I see so few."

"Thank you. I will. I'll wait until I have a free afternoon. That doesn't happen often but it does come round now and then."

"Do please do that."

"Goodbye," I said.

She stood waving to me, raising the child's arm and urging her to do the same.

I came quickly out of the lane past the dead tree which was raising its arms to the sky, despairingly it now seemed to me.

What a friendly woman! I thought. She is really beautiful. How could she so demean herself? His mistress... bearing his child ... perhaps in the hope that because she could bring about such an achievement, when he was free he would marry her. Well, he was free now.

My revulsion against him was increasing every minute. He was arrogant, I knew. Could it really be that he was a murderer. He appeared to believe he had a right to take what he wanted no matter what he did to others who were in his way.

Thinking of that woman I felt very depressed. I wished I had not let my afternoon's relaxation take me past Rooks' Rest.

June was almost over and at the end of July we should break up for the holidays. I was very much looking forward to seeing Aunt Patty and how she had settled into her new home, although of course she wrote often and told me the details of her new friendships and the frolics and mishaps which for her turned out to be hilarious adventures.

That afternoon I had a free session and was to take the girls on their ride. Miss Barston was to accompany me. I would rather have had Eileen Eccles or Miss Parker because Miss Barston was not the best of riders and was, I fancied, more nervous on a horse than she should be.

On another occasion she had made excuses so I was not surprised when Daisy called me to her study just as we were about to leave.

"Miss Barston says she has a great deal of preparation to do if she is to get the samplers ready for next lesson. She was planning to do it this afternoon. None of the others has any spare time."

"That's all right," I said. "I can manage. It is the older girls and most of them are good riders."

Daisy looked relieved. "I am so glad you add this accomplishment to your others."

"The riding sessions are very enjoyable," I said.

And that was how we came to set out that afternoon with only one mistress in charge-myself.

There were ten girls. Teresa was there. I knew that she would be riding close to me. She had never lost her nervousness but seemed to feel that I was a sort of talisman or lucky charm, and when she was close to me she lost much of that tension which conveyed itself to the horse-and that could mean trouble.

Charlotte was there with the two Verringer girls.

We trotted through the lanes in good order, Charlotte keeping up the rear with Fiona and Eugenie. I often had a niggling fear that when Charlotte was of the party she would attempt to show her superiority in some way and cause trouble. She was quite capable of urging some of them, who did not have her skill, to take risks. I had warned her of this with the only threat which would work with her. Unless her behaviour was beyond reproach she would find she was not riding so often.

Teresa trotted along beside me, a little uneasy as she would always be on a horse, but the improvement in her was amazing. In time she would Jose her nervousness, I assured myself.

We were talking about the trees and the plants, a subject in which Teresa was very interested and in which she certainly excelled; and she was delighted when she could tell me the names of plants of which I had never heard.

Ahead of us I could see the Hall. It was a most imposing house built in the Tudor style but seeming of an earlier age, because instead of the customary red brick it was in the grey stone of the Abbey. Much of the stone had been taken from the Abbey which gave it its distinction. I could see the broad low arch flanked on either side by tall octagonal towers. Many gables and turrets caught the eye - all dominated by the tall Gate House.

As we came close to it, suddenly a light carriage appeared on the road. It was drawn by two magnificent grey horses and was pelting along at a dangerous speed. It appeared to be coming straight for us. I called to the girls to slow down and draw in to the side of the road. The carriage was close. I heard Teresa cry out and then her horse was off. It bolted right in front of the carriage and across the road to the Hall.

I spurred up my horse and galloped after her.

"Don't be frightened, Teresa," I shouted .. . She wouldn't hear me, of course.

I reached her just as she was thrown out of the saddle onto the grass in front of the Hall. I dismounted and ran to her. She lay still and was very pale.

"Teresa ..." I cried. "Oh, Teresa ..."

To my immense relief she opened her eyes and looked at me. I thanked God she was alive.

The carriage was close by and a man jumped out of the driver's seat and ran towards us. It was Jason Verringer.

My greatest emotion then was anger. "So it was you," I cried. "You're mad ... This child ..."

He took no notice of me but knelt and bent over Teresa.

"Here," he said. "You've taken a toss. We all do that at some time. Anything broken? Let's see if you can stand up."

Teresa shrank from him. "Miss Grant," she whispered.

I said: "It's all right, Teresa. I'm here to take care of you. You don't appear to be badly hurt. Let's see if you can stand."

Jason Verringer helped her to get up. It was clear that she could stand without pain.

"I don't think there are any bones broken," he said. "I'll get the doctor to have a look at her right away. Now I'm going to carry you in," he said to Teresa.

She looked at me appealingly.

"I'll be with you," I said. "Don't be afraid, Teresa. I'm going to stay with you."

I remembered then that I was in charge of the whole party. I saw the girls on their horses, watching, appalled by what had happened.

My horse was quietly nibbling the grass. I could not see Teresa's.

I went over to the girls.

I said: "You've seen what happened to Teresa. They are going to send for a doctor. I don't think she is badly hurt. I want you all to go back to the school and tell Miss Hetherington what has happened." I looked at Charlotte. I went on: "Charlotte, I am putting you in charge."

There was a faint flush on her cheeks and I saw her head shoot up and the look of pride on her face.

"You are a good horse-woman and you are in the lead. Look after everyone. Make sure they keep with you." I had cast my eyes over the party and made sure that they were all there. "Get the girls back as soon as you can and tell Miss Hetherington that Teresa is at the Hall and that I shall stay with her until she is fit to ride back. Is that under stood?"

"Yes, Miss Grant," said Charlotte earnestly. "Now go," I said. "All follow Charlotte and do as e says. There is nothing to be afraid of. Teresa is not badly hurt."

I watched them ride off. Then I turned towards the Hall.

My fear was rapidly turning to anger. He had done this. He was the one who had thoughtlessly driven out at such a fast and furious pace. He had startled the horses and Teresa had been unable to control hers. And I was in charge!

I walked hastily into the Hall, through the door over which was an ornate coat of arms carved into the stone. I was in a vast hall with a vaulted ceiling. Weapons adorned the walls and a family tree was carved over the fireplace. Several people stood in the hall and they all looked scared.

"The little girl is in the blue bedroom, Miss," said a man who was clearly an important person in his own right-a butler or major-domo I imagined. "The doctor has already been sent for and Sir Jason says would you be so good as to go up there as soon as possible. One of the maids will take you."

I nodded and followed a girl up the carved staircase, the posts of which were decorated with Tudor roses and fleurs-de-lys.

In a bedroom with blue curtains and touches of the same colour throughout the room, Teresa lay on a bed. Her relief at the sight of me was obvious.

Jason Verringer turned as I entered.

"The doctor should be here within half an hour. I have told him he is urgently needed. I am sure she is not badly hurt, but it is wise to have a doctor in such cases. No bones are broken evidently. There may be a little shock, concussion ..."

"Stay here, Miss Grant," said Teresa.

"Of course I will."

"Miss Grant will stay here as long as you do," said Jason Verringer in a gentle voice which seemed somehow incongruous coming from him.

I could not look at him. I was so angry. This was his fault. He had no right to be driving at such speed through narrow lanes.

He brought a chair so that I could sit down by the bed.