Everyone at the table declared they would not miss it for anything.

“Such a fussy little man, the Reverend gentleman. Mind you, he always remembers that he owes his living to us, and I suppose, understandably, he’ll look upon this wedding as his personal triumph.”

There was talk then about previous weddings and Lady Pettigrew went on: “Your turn next, Harry.” At which everyone all lifted their glass to Harry Farringdon and I noticed that Fiona Browning had turned quite pink.

We left the men with their port while Lady Pettigrew led her battalion to the drawing room, where she held forth on the blessings of marriage, and how happy she was to see Millicent joined in matrimony to a man of her parents’ choice.

“They have been lovers from childhood,” she said indulgently. “Isn’t that so, Millicent?”

“We have known each other since we were children.”

“That’s what I’m saying. And this, of course, has been in our minds since they were tots.”

I asked Fiona where she lived and I wondered why I had not met her before.

“We have only been in the south of England for two years,” she told me. “We come from the north.”

“That is why we have never met.”

“My father has estates in Yorkshire and he now has an interest in breeding sheep in Kent. He has bought a place on the Essex borders. He always went to London a good deal, but it was a long journey. It is so much easier for him to get up there now.”

“You like it here?”

“Oh yes.”

Gwen Farringdon leaned forward. “We have taken them under our wing,” she said with a smile. “We have become great friends.”

So, I thought, the Farringdons approve of Fiona as a future daughter-in-law. Another nail in the coffin of Evie’s aspirations.

Millicent said that she and Jonathan were going to London immediately after the wedding. They planned to spend the honeymoon near Maidenhead. “The Grenfells… You know Sir Michael and Lady Grenfell… they have offered us their place for the honeymoon, but Jonathan wants to be in London. Of course, I should have liked to go abroad. We’ve talked of Italy… Venice…”

I felt myself go cold and heard myself say: “Floating down the canals while a gondolier sings Italian love songs.”

Millicent gave her rather shrill laugh.

“That’s exactly it,” she said.

“Never mind,” said Lady Pettigrew. “We’ll soon defeat those wretched foreigners.”

“It looks as though the French are being successful all over Europe as they were saying earlier,” I said.

“Oh, it is this miserable Bonaparte or whatever his name is. What they should do is get him. That would soon stop them. It’s absurd… Those wretched revolutionaries allowed to overrun Europe. I can’t think what they are doing.”

I said, not without irony: “They should make you generalissima, Lady Pettigrew.”

Everyone applauded and Lady Pettigrew seemed modestly to agree that it would be an excellent idea.

The men joined us. David came over and sat beside me. Jonathan was engaged in conversation with Lord Pettigrew and Dickon. I saw Fiona smile rather tremulously at Harry.

I whispered to David: “We shall soon be able to retire. I’m tired.”

“Yes. Journeys are so exhausting.”

My mother joined us. “You look a little tired, Claudine,” she said anxiously.

I guessed that I must have looked strained. I found the situation an uneasy one. Jonathan’s cynical marriage to Millicent, and in the background of my mind was the thought of Evie Mather’s melancholy.

“I think I will suggest to Lady Pettigrew that we go to bed,” said my mother.

She did and it seemed that the others had the same idea, for after good nights were said the company broke up.

I sat brushing my hair at the mirror and from the bed David watched me.

He said: “What do you think of it… Jonathan and Millicent?”

“Oh, it’s the perfect marriage, isn’t it—uniting the family interests?”

“But that is not really what marriage is about, is it?”

“I should imagine that it is exactly what quite a number of them are about.”

“Millicent seems contented enough, and so for that matter does Jonathan.”

“David, did you notice Harry Farringdon?”

“You mean with that girl, Fiona Browning?”

“Yes.”

“H’m,” said David. “He seems to have taken a fancy to her.”

“Do you remember how he was with Evie Mather?”

“I remember… yes.”

“I thought something might come of that.”

“Marriage, you mean?”

“Well, I am sure that was what Mrs. Trent hoped for.”

“I’ve no doubt she did. Evie won’t have much coming to her and the Farringdons are rich.”

“I’m sorry. Poor Evie. She’s a nice girl. And now it looks as though Fiona Browning…”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that. Harry never seems to be able to make up his mind. There have been many girls like that in his life. I’ve seen it happen before. It’s serious… while it lasts… but it doesn’t last and some other charmer comes along. Harry will need a big push into matrimony. He’s that sort.” He yawned. “Come on. I’m getting sleepy.”

I blew out the candle and got in beside him.

David did not go to the rehearsal; nor did Dickon. I sat with Gwen Farringdon at the back. Fiona came in late and sat with Harry close by.

Lady Pettigrew was in command and it was amusing to see her hawklike eyes on the Reverend Mark Pollick, who had a will of his own and was very definite as to how matters should be conducted in his own church.

Lord Pettigrew walked in with Millicent on his arm. I saw Jonathan rise and they stood before the Reverend Mark with Lady Pettigrew audibly commanding Millicent to stand up straight and speak up.

It was really rather funny and as my mother said, unnecessary.

The music, chosen by Lady Pettigrew, was very stirring. The choir had been assembled to sing the anthem, and as the music filled the little church, I saw Harry Farringdon take Fiona’s hand and they turned their faces towards each other and smiled.

I thought: It is all over for you, Evie.

And I wondered how deeply she had felt for him. Evie was not a girl who betrayed her feelings. There was something secretive about her—just as there was about her sister.

Evie might have been more realistic than her grandmother and could have known that the Farringdons would not willingly have agreed to a match between her and Harry; and yet on the other hand, if Harry had been sufficiently in love, I was sure John and Gwen could have been persuaded to give way to his wishes. Now he was behaving with Fiona as, not long ago, he had with Evie.

We went back to the house, all talking about the wedding rehearsal and saying how beautiful the music was. Lady Pettigrew exuded satisfaction, so I presumed she was sure everything was as it should be.

When we were at dinner that evening Lady Pettigrew said she had something to tell us, and she thought this was the moment to make the announcement.

“A little bird has whispered to me,” she began in a somewhat coy manner quite alien to her usual forceful utterances, “that we have a matter to celebrate.”

There were exclamations of surprise at the table.

“Fiona and Harry… My dears. God bless you both. You have guessed. Fiona and Harry have become engaged to be married. Is that not charming? I know John and Gwen are absolutely delighted and so are Fiona’s parents, because they have all told me so. Dear Fiona, your happiness… and yours too, Harry, but that goes without saying… for what is Fiona’s will now be yours… and yours hers.”

All raised their glass and Harry and Fiona sat close together, their hands clasped, looking faintly embarrassed but undoubtedly happy.

“It seems that weddings are infectious,” said Dickon.

“It must have been that lovely ceremony in the church which made them feel they wanted it to happen to them,” said my mother.

Then once more everyone drank the health of Fiona and Harry.

Afterwards when I was in the drawing room with the ladies while the men were drinking their port at the table, I found myself next to Gwen Farringdon, who was looking very pleased.

She whispered to me: “I’m so glad. Fiona is such a charming girl. And we like the family. There was one time when I was very much afraid…”

“Afraid?”

She came a little closer. “Oh, you remember, there was that girl he rather liked. She was most unsuitable. She had that dreadful grandmother.”

“You mean Evie Mather.”

“That’s right. John and I were afraid… but then Harry’s not the sort to rush into anything, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Well, that was all a long time ago, but we did have some qualms, I can tell you. However, all’s well that ends well.”

Millicent joined us. “What are you two whispering about?”

“We were talking of weddings,” I said.

“Seeing how happy you and Jonathan are has had its effect on Harry,” said Gwen.

“Sent him flying into an engagement, I see,” said Millicent. “It’s very satisfactory. The Brownings are the right sort.”

“Absolutely. John and I are delighted… just like your parents.”

“And now all we have to do is live happily ever after,” commented Millicent.

I could not sleep that night. Tomorrow was the wedding day. I kept thinking of Jonathan and wondering whether anything would happen at the last minute to stop his marriage to Millicent.

What nonsense! As if it would! He wanted this marriage as much as the Pettigrews did. Dickon wanted it. It was the way they managed their affairs.

That night I said to David: “I’m surprised your father allowed you to marry me.”

“What?” cried David.

“I brought you nothing. Everything we had was lost in France. How strange that he should raise no objections to our marriage.”

David laughed. “If he had, it would have happened just the same.”

“What if you had been cut off with a shilling!”

“I’d rather have you and a shilling than Eversleigh.”

“That’s a pleasant note to retire on,” I said.

But I kept thinking about Jonathan, who would be Millicent’s husband tomorrow—and I could not entirely forget Evie Mather.

Jonathan and Millicent were married on the following day. The ceremony passed without a hitch. Millicent looked beautiful in her white satin gown with the Pettigrew pearls about her neck and Jonathan was a very handsome bridegroom.

We went back for the reception and during it Lord Pettigrew made a speech in which he formally announced the engagement of Harry Farringdon to Fiona Browning.

Toasts were drunk, more speeches made, and Jonathan and Millicent left for London. The guests who had come for the day began to leave and only those staying in the house remained.

It had been a wonderful wedding, everyone proclaimed; and now that the bride and groom had disappeared, there seemed little reason to continue the rejoicing.

My mother said we should go the next day. She hated to leave Jessica long, and I certainly felt the same about Amaryllis.

When I went to my room I found Mary Lee putting my things together; she told me my mother had sent her to do what she could for me.

“There’s very little, Mary,” I said. “I can manage.”

She went on folding my things.

“I shall be glad to get back,” I said.

“Yes, Madam. To see the little babies.”

“They’ll soon be old enough to travel with us.”

“The wedding was beautiful, wasn’t it, Madam?”

I nodded. I could not bring myself to speak of it. Beautiful! Jonathan so cynical… realistic, he would say; and Millicent, was she the same? I think there was a little more to it for Millicent. In spite of her rather worldly approach and an attitude which might have indicated indifference, I had caught a gleam in her eyes as they rested on Jonathan. He was an extremely attractive man. Was it possible that he had found a way to Millicent’s heart which I had thought must be a replica of her mother’s, only to be softened by conquest and material advantage?

“And what a surprise about Mr. Harry and Miss Fiona.”

“Yes, it was.”

“They talk downstairs,” she said. “They say Mr. Harry was one for shilly-shallying. He never seemed to be able to make up his mind.”

“Well, he has now, Mary.”

“Madam, I was wondering…”

“Yes?”

“Well, it’s about Miss Mather at Grasslands. At one time we thought… well, we all thought something was coming of that.”