I waited while she paused, searching for the word she needed to describe him.

“Overpowering,” she said at length. “Although he says very little, he does behave as though he is the son of the house. Well, I suppose we shall be going down again soon. I think Dorabella would have liked you to stay.”

“Well, I daresay I shall be making the journey back there very soon,” I said.

When I was back at Caddington I saw things differently. My mother was right. Everything was going well.

I thought often of Jowan Jermyn. It would be amusing to see him again. I rather liked the fact that we had to meet…well, not exactly secretly…but to take certain precautions not to be seen too frequently at the same place.

I wondered if Mrs. Brodie had reported that we had called in twice at Smithy’s. It was very probable. It had been tactful of him to suggest the meeting at the Horned Stag.

My father was delighted to see us. He said that he wished Dorabella could come home for a while.

My mother said: “She is at her own home now, and you could hardly expect her to leave her husband. And her husband has an estate to look after.”

“Gordon does that very well,” replied my father. “I don’t think Dermot would be missed all that much.”

It was as near as he could get to a criticism and very unusual with him. It showed how much he wanted to see his daughter.

I missed her, too, but I was sure it would not be long before I went to Cornwall again. I wanted to be with her. Moreover, it was exciting, and a little mysterious in a way, which appealed to my penchant for intrigue. I could not rid myself of the idea that there was something strange about the household, and I felt it would be very interesting to discover what it was. And then, of course, there would be meetings with Jowan Jermyn.

My mother was overjoyed to hear from Nanny Crabtree. She would be free at the beginning of September and would take a short holiday to stay with her cousin in Northamptonshire. She would be ready to go to Cornwall at the beginning of October which would give her a few weeks to settle in before the baby arrived.

We heard from Edward that he and Gretchen would like to come and see us and perhaps stay a couple of weeks. They had a friend who would like to see Cornwall. Should we mind very much if they brought him with them?

“I am sure you will like Richard,” he said. “He is a lawyer and has been a great help to me.”

My mother was always delighted to see Edward and wrote back enthusiastically of her pleasure at the proposed visit.

Edward was now attached to a law firm in London. He and Gretchen were living in the Greenham family house in Westminster at the time but were looking for a house of their own. Edward wrote to my mother regularly so that she could keep in touch with everything he was doing. Although she was only about fifteen years older than he was, he looked upon her as a mother, which was not really surprising, as she was the one who had brought him out of Belgium when the Germans had been invading that country.

They arrived in the early afternoon. Gretchen looked very happy; so did Edward. We were introduced to the friend, Richard Dorrington, a tall, pleasant-looking young man who thanked my mother profusely for asking him.

I could see immediately that she liked him. She told him that Edward’s friends were always welcome.

It was an interesting visit. My father quite obviously liked Richard Dorrington, too—but then he liked most people—yet I did sense a rather special feeling for this young man.

Edward said he was going to show Richard some of the local sights, for Richard, who had lived most of his life in London, did not know this part of the country at all.

Over the first meal Edward talked about the places he had in mind.

“You’d like to see some of these spots again, wouldn’t you, Violetta?” said my mother.

I agreed that I would.

“Robert will be very cross when he hears you’ve been here,” said my mother to Richard. “Robert is my young son. He’s always annoyed because he is at school when we have visitors here. Well, the four of you must go together. You must take Richard to that old Chidam place for lunch. It is really rather fun. Ye Olde Reste House, pretending to date back to the days of Henry VIII when it was actually built about ten years ago. Ye olde Tudor beams—put in all of ten years ago! I expect they have a ghost. Anne Boleyn will appear one day.”

“I don’t think she ever went near the place,” said Edward.

“That’s of no account. They’ll find a way of fitting her in with ye olde Tudor beams. It is really quite amusing with the waitresses in Tudor costumes, complete with lipstick and permanently waved hair.”

“It sounds amusing,” said Richard.

“It is…just for once. You will take him, Edward?”

Then we talked about Edward’s househunting in London.

“I’d like to be near Chambers,” said Edward.

“Richard has a fine place in Kensington,” added Gretchen.

“I think,” said Edward smiling at her, “we shall have to go for something less grand.”

“Our place has been in the family for some years,” said Richard. “My grandfather bought it. Then it went to my father and now to me.”

“In a quiet square,” added Gretchen.

“One of those big family houses, built round a garden square for exclusive use of the residents who surround it,” explained Edward.

“There are some lovely houses in those squares,” said my mother.

“You need a family to fill them,” put in Gretchen.

“I have my widowed mother and sister Mary Grace living with me,” said Richard. “It has always been home to us.”

“Then you have old Mrs. what’s-her-name to keep everything in order,” said Edward.

“That’s the housekeeper,” Richard explained to us. “Yes, she is one of the old faithful kind. She makes everything run smoothly.”

“I know the type,” said my mother.

My father liked to hear what people thought of the political situation. He always felt that people from London would know more of what was going on than we did in the country.

“What do you think of the new Prime Minister?” asked Richard Dorrington.

“It’s early days yet. He’s only been in office just over a month. He did some good work in the past, and it was time Baldwin went, I suppose. Though he did very well over the Abdication. He probably needed a rest after that, hence his resignation. I would say that Neville Chamberlain has not had long enough to be judged.”

“I don’t like the situation on the Continent.”

Edward said: “It is certainly thought-provoking.”

“Mussolini is being closely watched,” went on Richard. “Europe is very uneasy about him, but they all stood by when he invaded Abyssinia. They were horrified, shocked, and disapproving, but they did just nothing. If the countries had stood together then, if they had imposed sanctions, he would have had to withdraw in a few weeks. But they stood by, saying how disgraceful it was, while he snapped his fingers at them and went on. I was, in Rome this time last year…no, a little earlier. It was May. It was in the Piazza Venezia; the crowd was great. I heard there were about 400,000 gathered there, and I could well believe that. Mussolini came out and announced to us all that after fourteen years of fascist rule Italy had an empire.”

“What sort of a man is he?” asked my father.

“Powerful, charismatic in the extreme, with a hypnotic quality. One sensed he had them all in his power. I think these forceful dictators must arouse a certain uneasiness in the minds of many people. They are too powerful, and their people do not seem to question their actions. They can’t, I suppose. They dare not. He is modeling himself on his ally, Adolf Hitler.”

I saw the change in Gretchen. She lowered her eyes, and I was taken back to those terrible moments in the inn parlor at the schloss.