'These old roses are more beautiful, said Ann. 'But of course the nursery really depends on the hybrid teas. Excuse me while I answer the phone.

She went into the dining-room and lifted the phone. 'Hello. This is Netherden 28.

After a moment a woman's voice at the other end said briskly, 'I wonder if l could have a word with Miss Emma Sands, if she's with you, please?

Ann felt confused, and then even before she knew the cause, angry.

She said quickly, 'Yes, could you hold' on, please? and put the receiver down on the sideboard. She felt herself blushing with a sudden mixture of anger and fear. It must be Lindsay Rimmer. With this there came back to her that sensation of being encompassed and plotted against with which she had first met the news of Emma's coming. The next moment she thought: is Randall with her? And she was near to tears.

She went back to the drawing-room. Emma was still examining the rose. 'You're wanted on the phone.

Emma looked surprised and began to get up. Ann helped her, supporting one Ann. The roses clung by their thorns to Emma's dress. Ann picked them off and pricked herself in the process. Emma followed her slowly to the dining-room.

'There it is, said Ann. She went out and shut the door. She intended to return to the drawing-room. But she found herself standing still where she was. Emma's conversation was audible through the door. 'Well, so I imagine. I don't know who else would ring me here.

How are things at your end? Pause.

'I see. So was it really necessary to phone me? Pause.

'Very comfortable, thank you. Hugh drives beautifully.

Pause.

'More or less. I'm not sure.

Pause.

'Naturally. I expect about eight o'clock. Would you do my sandwiches and milk as usual? Pause.

'I bless you, my child. Good-bye.

Ann had been standing listening and looking with fascination at the little bead of blood which had appeared upon her finger. As she heard Emma replace the receiver she retreated hastily to the drawing-room door, from which she advanced again to take charge of her guest. They returned to the drawing-room in silence.

Emma resumed her seat. Ann picked up the jumbled pile of roses from the floor and dumped them on the table. A few petals fluttered down. She put the tea-cups noisily on to the tray. A3 the silence continued and something new now hovered between them, Ann thought, if she mentions Randall I shall burst into tears. Anger at the possibility of being so humiliated brought her yet nearer to tears. She said, 'I must go and do the lunch. I'll return you to Hugh.

'Hugh can wait. He'll keep, said Emma. 'And lunch can wait.

'Don't go yet. She looked up at Ann with a questioning, pleading look. She seemed to be trying to frame some important request. 'What do you want? said Ann. She looked down at the older woman, standing one hand on hip with an air of hostility and authority.

The question, in its vagueness, was startling enough. 'What do I want? said Emma. 'Ah — many things. To understand you, for instance. But you must forgive me — you had forgiven me — for having come. I did once love your Absurd father-in-law very much indeed.

Ann was wondering how to reply to this when something else distracted her attention. She turned slightly to the window and saw that the very dark blue Mercedes had just swept in through the gates.

Everything left her mind except the proximity of Felix. No one else drove that car. A different blush now reddened her cheeks. She went over to the window.

The car stopped a little short of the house and Penn and Miranda came running towards it. Hugh also was hurrying across the lawn to greet the new arrivals. Mildred Finch got out and then Humphrey and Felix. When Ann saw Felix's tall figure beside the car she felt her heart turn over and fall like. a stricken bird. That 'yes' had done its work.

'What is it? said Emma.

'It's Mildred Finch, said Ann. 'She's just arrived with her brother.

'Felix Meecham! said Emma. 'Why, I was in love with him too, once upon a time.

'You in love with Felix! said Ann, turning in amazement. 'You too? She realized too late her misunderstanding and the suggestion which her words carried.

Emma laughed. 'Well, for about four days, you know. One can be in love for four days. It was long ago, when I stayed with them once, and he was a boy scarcely older than Penny. I was very sad about something at the time — well, about Hugh. And Felix consoled me. Quite unconsciously, you know. He just was, and that consoled me. He was an exquisite boy.

She got up and joined Ann at the window. The group was still by the car. Mildred was talking to Hugh and Humphrey was talking to Penn. Miranda had got hold of one of Felix's hands and was tugging him. He was laughing.

'You loved Felix, said Ann. She looked out at him laughing there With Miranda. Then he cast an anxious look at the house. Tears came up in Ann's eyes and began to pour down her cheeks. She turned away from the window with an exclamation and buried her face in her handkerchief. 'Ah, said Emma. And then, 'Tiens! She followed Ann and put an arm round her shoulder. 'There, there, my child. You go and do the lunch. You have been patient with an inquisitive old reptile. I shall go out and greet my oId friend Mildred Finch. Yes, I think I shall join them now. She will be pleased to see me!

Chapter Seventeen

'BUT what was she doing there? asked Mildred for the tenth time. 'Sort of sentimental journey, I suppose, said Felix. 'Cheese, Mildred?

They were sitting over lunch at Felix's flat in Ebury Street. Felix had prepared the meal. He prided himself on certain simple accomplishments. There had been pate de foie gras, a spanish omelette with an excellent salad, and now a good selection of cheeses with celery and various biscuits in a big tin. A bottle of Lynch-Gibbon Nuits de Young 1955 had been almost finished.

'Sentimental journey pooh! said Mildred. 'Is the Camembert ripe? No, well I think I'll have some of the Cornish cream cheese. Mildred helped herself to cheese and spent some time selecting a biscuit. As Felix was gloomily silent she went on, 'She seems to have got poor old Hugh back into her clutches.

'I wouldn't exaggerate that, Mildred, said Felix. 'You're such a schemer yourself, you're a bit too ready to attribute schemes to other people.

'Well, somebody's got to do some scheming, said Mildred. 'Or let's call it planning, shall we? As you won't raise a finger to help yourself, dear boy, I have to try to help you. And then I'm accused of scheming!

'I'm not accusing you of anything! said Felix irritably, cutting himself a piece of Stilton. He had in fact been very displeased with Mildred when he had learnt that she had, without consulting him, visited Ann and invited her to Seton Blaise. He had, about her refusal to come, mixed feelings. He certainly had a horror of seeming in any way to press or pursue. He was satisfied that Ann perfectly understood his sentiments; and for the present he preferred to wait and see.

He was, concerning Emma Sands, not quite as untroubled as he pretended to his sister to be. Emma had always seemed to him an exotic and slightly dangerous figure. He well remembered her curious brief attachment to him, of which he had been, without showing it, perfectly aware at the time; and he recalled with a mixture of aversion and fascination how she had kissed him when she departed. He had scarcely seen her since then, but she was the sort of person one remains aware of. He had felt dismay at finding her, so unexpectedly, at Grayhallock; and he agreed with Mildred in thinking, however irrationally, that she was up to no good. What no good she was up to he could not conceive; but he saw her obscurely as a threat to Ann.

He was additionally distressed by a dreadful thing which had happened, and of which he had said nothing to Mildred. Mildred had persuaded him against his better judgement to accompany her and Humphrey on the visit to Grayhallock, and he «cursed himself for not having had the sense to stay away. Emma had cornered him soon after his arrival there, before he had even caught a glimpse of Ann, and had made him accompany her down the hill as far as the roses. Then, as they stood there, looking at the scraggy multi-coloured lines of hybrid teas, she had suddenly intimated to him that Ann had confided in her concerning a sentimental understanding between Ann and himself. Felix had been so taken aback that he had made no denial, and his behaviour must have served as a confirmation of what Emma could only have surmised; for he realized almost immediately afterwards that Ann could not possibly have confided in Emma. Felix saw that he had been fooled, and he felt with pain that something sacred had been profaned, something delicate had been prematurely named, and something precious and fragile made known in a dangerous quarter: for whatever Emma might think about Ann's feelings, his own must, in his confusion, have been made fairly evident. Emma had certainly had a field day. But to Mildred, from whom he would never have heard the end of it, he said nothing of this.