I used to hate leaving them and going back to Keverall Court and my onerous duties, and consoled myself by doing malicious imitations of Lady Bodrean as I paraded round the cottage sitting room brandishing an imaginary lorgnette.

"And Sir Ralph," they asked timidly. "Do you see much of him?"

"Very little. I'm not exactly one of the family, you know."

"It's a shame," said Dorcas hotly; but Alison silenced her.

"When you were having lessons there it was so different," complained Dorcas.

"Yes, I never thought then that I wasn't one of them. But then I hadn't a post, and it was amazing how little I was aware of Lady Bodrean . . . fortunately."

"It may change," hazarded Alison.

I was optimistic by nature, and even at that dreary time I had my dreams. The dinner party—one of the guests, a lady, was unable to come. They could not sit down with thirteen. Very well, there is the companion. "She's quite presentable. After all she was educated here." And so I went down to dine in a gown which Theodosia found for me— she had looked frightful in it but it was just right for me— and there I was "Next to someone you know," whispered Theodosia. "Oh!" cried Tybalt. "How delightful to see you!" And we talked and everyone was aware of how absorbed he was by his neighbor at the dining table and afterwards he would not leave her side. "How glad I am," he said, "that Lady X ... Y ... Z ..." What did her name matter? "How glad I am that she could not come tonight."

Dreams! Dreams! But what else was there for me during that unsatisfactory period of my life?

I had read until I was hoarse.

"Your voice is not good today, Miss Osmond. Oh dear, how tiresome! One of the chief duties I look for is your reading."

She would sit there and in and out went the needle with its trail of red or blue or violet wool and I was sure she was not listening to what I was reading. If only I could have read from one of the books I brought from Giza House! Sometimes I had the mischievous thought that I would substitute one and see whether she knew the difference.

Sometimes she would lay aside her tapestry and close her eyes. I would go on reading, unsure whether she was awake or not. Sometimes I stopped to see if she had noticed. Often I caught her sleeping; but then she would catch me for she would awake suddenly and demand to know why I was not reading.

I would say meekly: "I thought you were sleeping, Lady Bodrean. I was afraid I should disturb you."

"Nonsense," she would retort. "Pray go on and I will say when we shall stop."

She kept me reading on that day until my eyes were tired and my voice weary. I began to think of escaping at any price, but I always came back to the thought of going away and never seeing Tybalt again.

Orange and Lemon turned out to be blessings for they needed daily exercise and this gave me the opportunity to get away from the house and it was easy to slip over to Giza House and have a chat with Tabitha.

One day I called and knew immediately that something exciting had happened. She took me into the drawing room and told me that Sir Edward was planning an expedition to Egypt. It was going to be one of his most ambitious efforts. She hoped to accompany the party. "Now that Sabina is married," she said, "there is no need for me to stay here."

"You will have some job to do?"

"Not an official job, of course, but I can make myself useful. I can housekeep if that should be necessary and I have picked up quite a lot. I can be useful in a fetch-and-carry sort of way as amateurs are."

I looked at her ecstatically. "How I envy you!"

She smiled that gentle sweet smile of hers. "Lady Bodrean can be trying I daresay."

I sighed.

Then she went on to talk about the expedition.

"Will Tybalt be accompanying his father?" I asked.

"Indeed yes. It's going to be one of the most important missions so far. I gather the archaeological world is talking of nothing else. Of course you know that Sir Edward is perhaps one of the greatest men of his profession in the world."

I nodded. "And Tybalt is following in his footsteps."

She looked at me shrewdly and I wondered whether I had betrayed the state of my feelings.

"He is his father all over again," she said. "Men such as they are have one great passion in their lives . . . their work. It's something that those about them must always remember."

I could never resist talking about Tybalt.

"Sir Edward seems so much more remote. He hardly seems to see anyone."

"He does come down from the clouds now and then . . . or should I say up from the soil. One should never expect to know men like them in a few years. They're a lifetime study."

"Yes," I said. "I suppose that's what makes them interesting."

She smiled gently. "Sometimes," she went on, "I have thought that it would be well for such men to live the lives of hermits or monks. Their work should be their families."

"Did you know Lady Travers?"

"At the end of her life, yes."

"And you think Sir Edward is happier as a widower than he was as a husband?"

"Did I give that impression? I came to them as a rather privileged housekeeper. We had known them for some years and when the need arose ... I took this post as you have taken yours."

"And Lady Travers died after that?"

"Yes."

I wanted to know what Tybalt's mother was like, and as Dorcas and Alison had often told me, I was far from tactful. So I blundered on: "It wasn't a very happy marriage, was it?"

She looked startled. "Well. . . They had little in common and as I said men like Sir Edward perhaps don't make model husbands."

I was certain then that she was warning me.

She said brightly: "You remember Evan Callum."

"Of course."

"He's coming to visit us. I hear that Hadrian will be returning also. They'll be here soon, both of them. They'll be interested to hear about Sir Edward's expedition."

I stayed talking although I knew I shouldn't. I wanted to glean all I could. Tabitha was quite animated.

"It would be wonderful if you could come," she said. "I am sure you would prefer it to looking after that not-very-agreeable lady."

"Oh, if only I could."

"Never mind. Perhaps some day ..."

I went back to Keverall Court in a daze. I was dreaming again. That was my only comfort. I dreamed that Tabitha was taken ill; she couldn't go. Someone must take her place, said Sir Edward. "I know," cried Tybalt. "What about Miss Osmond? She was always interested."

How ridiculous and how unkind to wish an illness on Tabitha!

"I am surprised, Miss Osmond," said Lady Bodrean. "I have been ringing my bell for half an hour."

"I'm sorry. I forgot the time."

"Forgot the time! You are not here to forget time, Miss Osmond. You are not paid for that, you know."

Oh, why didn't I tell the disagreeable old woman that I would serve her no longer!

Simply because, said my logical self, if you did you would have to do something. You would have to go away and how would you ever see Tybalt if you did?

I had somehow betrayed my inability to accept my position with resignation and this was something Lady Bodrean seemed to have made up her mind to enforce.

She reminded me far more than was necessary that I was a paid servant. She tried to curtail my liberty whenever possible. She would send me on an errand and time me. She would make me walk round the gardens with her carrying her basket while she cut flowers; she would tell me to arrange them—and my efforts in this artistic endeavor had always amused Dorcas and Alison. They used to say, "If anyone can disarrange a bowl of flowers, that is Judith." At the rectory it was a joke; here it was a serious matter. If she could humiliate me, she did; and she was seeking and finding many opportunities.

At least, I said to myself, this has taught me what a happy home Dorcas and Alison gave me and I ought to be forever grateful for that.

I shall never forget the day she told me that there was to be a ball at Keverall Court.

"Of course a young lady in my daughter's position must be brought out formally. I am sure you realize that, Miss Osmond, because although you yourself are not in the same position, you did learn something of gracious living when you were allowed to take lessons here."

"Graciousness is something that I miss nowadays," I retorted.

She misunderstood. "You were very fortunate to be allowed to glimpse it for a while. I always think it is a mistake to educate people beyond their stations."

"Sometimes," I said, "it enables the sons and daughters of erudite churchmen to be of use to their betters."

"I am glad to see you take that view, Miss Osmond. I have to confess you do not always show such becoming humility."

She was an exceedingly stupid woman. I had learned that Sir Ralph had married her for her fortune. Why he should have done so was beyond my understanding when he was a rich man in his own right. But what I could understand was why he had acquired his reputation for seeking consolation elsewhere.

"Now," she went on, "there will be a great deal for you to do. Invitations to be drawn up and sent out. You've no idea, Miss Osmond, what giving a ball like this entails."

"I can hardly be expected to," I replied, "coming from such a stratum of society."

"Dear me no. It will be an education for you to learn. Such experience for one in your position is so useful."

"I shall do my humble best," I retorted with irony.