"Perhaps," said Aunt Patty, "he was called away suddenly."

"He could have sent a message," said Violet.

"Perhaps he did and it went to the wrong place."

"Who could mistake Grantley Manor?"

"All sorts of things could happen," said Aunt Patty. "He could have had an accident on the road coming here."

"Shouldn't we have heard?" I asked.

"Not necessarily," replied Aunt Patty.

"Perhaps he changed his mind about coming," suggested Violet.

"He asked for the invitation," I said. "It was only yesterday.

"Men!" said Violet, speaking from vast ignorance. "They can act very funny at times. It could be anything ... You never know with men."

"There'll be an explanation," said Aunt Patty, spreading her meringue with strawberry jam and giving herself up to the ecstatic enjoyment of it. "I tell you what," she said when she had finished it, "we could send Jim to the Three Feathers. They'd know if there had been an accident."

Jim was the stable man who looked after the carriage and our horses.

"Do you think it looks as though we're too interested?" asked Violet.

"My dear Vi, we are interested."

"Yes, but him being a man..."

"Men have mishaps as well as women, Violet, and it seems a funny thing to me that he didn't come when he said he would."

They talked a little about Edward Compton and I explained how, with a party of girls, I had met him in the forest and afterwards by a strange coincidence he had been on the Channel boat. Then he happened to be here.

"Oh, I reckon he was called away suddenly," said Aunt Patty. "He left a message to be delivered but you know what they are at the Three Feathers. Pleasant ... but they can be forgetful. Do you remember, Vi, when one of the parents wanted to stay for a night and we booked her in and Mrs. White forgot to make a note of it. We had to put her up at the school."

"I remember that well," said Violet. "And she liked it so much she stayed an extra day and night and wanted to come again."

"So you see," said Aunt Patty and went on to talk of the preparations for Daisy Hetherington's visit.

It was an hour later when Jim returned from the Three Feathers. No Mr. Compton had been staying there. All they had at the moment were two elderly ladies.

That seemed very strange. Hadn't he said he was staying at the Three Feathers ... or had I imagined that he must be?

I was not sure. When he had told me his name I had begun to feel that mysterious air retreating. Now it was back again.

There was something odd about this stranger from the forest.


There was no message from Edward Compton and I went to bed mystified and disappointed, for he had, after all, expressed a wish to call. I was sure something unexpected had happened.

I spent a disturbed night of jumbled dreams in which he figured mixed up with Daisy Hetherington. In one near nightmare I dreamed that I was at Colby Abbey Academy, which was some great menacing Gothic castle, and I was searching for Edward Compton. When I found him he was a monster-half man, half woman, himself and Daisy Hetherington; and I was trying to escape.

I sat up in bed breathless and I guessed I had been shouting in my sleep.

I lay still trying to quieten my mind.

Such a lot seemed to have happened in a short Lime that it was small wonder I had disturbed dreams. As for Edward Compton if he had decided he did not want to visit us and had not the courtesy to let us know, so much for him. But I did not believe that was the case. What had been so striking about him had been that air of almost old-world chivalry.

It was all rather mysterious. I should probably find the solution soon. Perhaps a message would be on its way to me now.

When I went down, breakfast was over and the girls were on their way to their various classes. Lessons were always a Little perfunctory at such a tune with break-up so near and the Christmas spirit everywhere.

During the morning I went into the town.

Miss Stoker, the owner of the little linen draper's shop, was in the street inspecting her display of doilies and tablecloths laid out with branches of holly here and there designed to catch Christmas shoppers.

She greeted me with pleasure and said how upset she was because we were leaving. "The place won't be the same without the school," she said. "It's been here so long. Mind you, when we heard it was to be a school ... that was years ago ... there was some of us that wasn't too pleased. But then Miss Grant ... she was a great favourite ... and all the girls. It did you good to see them coming into the town. I tell you it won't be the same."

"We shall miss you all," I said.

"Times change, I always say. Nothing stands still for long."

"Not many people in the town just now," I said. "No. Well, who'd be here at this time of the year?"

"You'd notice strangers, wouldn't you?"

I looked at her expectantly. Miss Stoker had the reputation of knowing everything that went on in the town.

"The Misses Brewer are at the Feathers again. They were here last year. They like to break the journey on the way to visit their cousins where they go for Christmas every year. They know they can trust the Feathers. And they're glad of them there. Not much custom about in winter. Tom Carew was saying to me that there's a tidy trade for spring, summer and autumn but the winter it's as dead as a doornail."

"And so the Misses Brewer are the only guests just now."

"Yes. .. and lucky to have them."

That was double confirmation. If anyone else was staying there, Miss Stoker would know.

All the same, when I escaped from her I went into the Three Feathers and wished the Carews the compliments of the season. They made me welcome and insisted that I drink a glass of cider.

"We were struck all of a heap when we heard Miss Grant had sold the Manor," said Mrs. Carew. "Real shock, wasn't it, Tom?"

Tom said: "My word, yes. All shook up and no mistake."

"It had to be," I replied and they sighed.

I asked how business was.

"Stumbling on," said Tom. "We've got two guests ... the Misses Brewer. They've been here before."

"Yes, I heard from Miss Stoker. And they are the only two?"

"Yes, the only two."

I couldn't be more sure than that.

"Your Jim seemed to think we might have a friend of yours ..."

"We just thought he might be coming here. A Mr. Compton."

"Perhaps he'll come later on. We could give him a really nice room if he was to."

I came out of the Three Feathers very disconsolate. I wandered through the town and then I remembered the Nag's Head. It was scarcely an hotel, rather a small inn, but they did have a room or two which they let now and then.

I went into the Nag's Head and saw Joe Brackett whom I knew slightly. He welcomed me and said how sorry he was that I was leaving. I came straight to the point and asked him if a Mr. Compton had taken a room with him.

He shook his head. "Not here, Miss Grant. Perhaps at the Feathers ..."

"No," I said, "he didn't stay there either."

"Are you sure he's staying in this town? I can't think where else he could be unless it's Mrs. Shovell's. She lets a room now and then ... just bed and breakfast. But she's laid up this last week ... one of her turns."

I said goodbye and made my way back to the Manor. Perhaps there would be a message, I thought.

But there was no message.

In the afternoon I helped the girls decorate the common room and late that afternoon Daisy Hetherington arrived.


I was definitely impressed by Daisy Hetherington. She was a spare angular woman, very tall. She must have been five feet ten inches in her stockinged feet. I myself was tall but I felt almost dwarfed beside her. She had very clear ice-blue eyes and white hair, elegantly dressed. Her pallor and classic features gave her a look of having been carved out of stone. There was something stony about her, but there was an air of nobility. She would be a model headmistress, I knew at once, because she would inspire immediate awe and a great deal of respect. She would demand the best and those about her would give it because they knew she would accept nothing less. She would give perfection and want it in return.

The only thing which did not fit was her name. Daisy suggested a modest little flower hidden among the grass. She should have had a queenly name: Elizabeth, Alexandra, Eleanor or Victoria.

No one could have been less like Aunt Patty, who seemed to become more rotund, more easy-going, and more frivolously lovable in her presence.

Aunt Patty had sent one of the maids to my room to tell me that Miss Hetherington had arrived and they were in the sitting room before going in to dinner. Would I join them there?

I went down. I remember I was wearing a blue velvet dress with a white jabot at the neck. I had dressed my thick straight chestnut-tinged hair high on my head to give me further height and, I hoped, dignity. I felt that, in the presence of Miss Hetherington, I should need all the self-esteem I could muster. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was not by any means good-looking. My light brown eyes were a little too far apart; my mouth too wide; my forehead too high to be fashionable; my nose, as Monique used to say, was "enquiring", which meant it had a slight tilt at the tip which added a touch of humour to an otherwise rather serious face. I had wondered why Edward Compton had appeared to be more interested in me when Monique was very pretty and Lydia quite attractive. Frieda was a little severe but she had a directness which was appealing. I shared the freshness of youth but I certainly was not the most attractive of the four. It seemed odd that Edward Compton should have selected me. Unless, of course, our meetings had been by chance. The one in the forest was and so was the one on the boat, but he had taken the trouble to come to Canterton and that must have been to see me. Then why had he made the arrangement to come to tea and then failed to do so?

There was only one explanation. We had met in the forest and he had forgotten all about me until he saw me on the boat. He was passing through and had stopped off at Canterton. Then he remembered I lived there. We met by chance and perhaps I had forced him to accept the invitation, by making it so that it would be impolite to refuse. In any case he had thought better of coming and had slipped quietly away.

I must stop thinking of him. It was far more important to make a good impression on Daisy Hetherington.

I went down.

Aunt Patty was looking delighted. She sprang up and coming to me put her arm through mine.

"Here's Cordelia. Daisy, this is my niece, Cordelia Grant. Cordelia, Miss Hetherington, who owns one of the finest scholastic establishments in the country."

She took my hand in hers, which was surprisingly warm. I had expected it to be cold ... as stone. "I am delighted to meet you," I said.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she replied. "Your aunt has been telling me so much about you."

"Come and sit down," said Aunt Patty. "Dinner will be served in about ten minutes. Isn't it fun to have Miss Hetherington with us!"

She was smiling at me, almost winking. Fun seemed a strange word to use in connection with Miss Hetherington-except that, with Aunt Patty, all life fitted into that category.

I sat down, very much aware of the piercing blue eyes on me searchingly and I felt every detail of my appearance was being noted and that everything said would be weighed up and used in evidence for or against me.

"As you know, Cordelia has just returned from Schaffenbrucken," said Aunt Patty.

"Yes, so I understand."

"Two years she was there. Few people stay longer."

"Two or three years is the usual span," said Daisy. "It must have been a most exhilarating experience." I said that it was.

"You must tell Miss Hetherington about it," said Aunt Patty.

She was sitting in her chair smiling and nodding. Her pride in me was a little embarrassing, and I felt I must do my best to deserve it.

So I talked of Schaffenbrucken-the daily pattern, the classes, the social activities ... everything I could think of about the school until Violet coughed timidly and said we should go in to dinner.

Over the fish, Daisy Hetherington brought up the subject round which she had been skirting until this moment.