I smiled.

“I think a lot of young ladies are brought up with such aims and so-called ideals.”

“You weren’t?”

“Mine was not a normal upbringing. I was in India, you see, and that made a difference; and when I was in England I went to school and spent my holidays with some relations in a country rectory very humble compared with the society in which you obviously move.”

“Lucky Miss Pleydell! They were just waiting for me to come out. I don’t know why they should leave it to me to work the miracle.”

“You are very attractive.”

She grimaced.

“I’m not really pretty, if you take a close look.”

“It’s all that vitality, that gaiety. I suppose attractiveness is not so much a matter of features as of personality. They did a good job at your charm school or perhaps they didn’t have to because it was there already.”

“I’m beginning to wish I had been born with a squint and spots.”

“Please don’t despise the gifts the good fairies bestowed on you. They are bound to come in useful although sometimes they lead to difficulties. But go on.”

“Well, I came out most expensively. They invested in me, sure that they would get good dividends. There was a rather nice young man. I liked him very much. Good family … but no money … so I was steered away from him. And then Tom Carlton came on the scene. He was the answer to their prayers. He is one of the richest men in the country. Made a fortune and acquired a peerage, and what should he be looking for but a wife who could supply the background. The Marlingtons could do that all right. We could trace it right back to the Conqueror, or almost. It was to be the most convenient of marriages. They say it is the perfect union of the Carlton millions and the blue blood of the Marlingtons.”

“And the one person in the family who does not see it as ideal is the prospective bride.”

She looked at me and nodded.

“At first I thought it was wonderful. You see, Tom was so pleased with me. He is so generous and it was bliss not to hear all that growling about damp and dry rot. For a week or so I really was radiantly happy. We were saved and I had saved us all.”

“And then you realized that there is more to marriage than family pride.”

“Exactly. And I have been wondering ever since what I could do about it.”

“Why do you think I can help you to make up your mind? I am a stranger. This is only the third time we have met. I know nothing except what you have told me.”

“I have been frank with you. Will you be with me? I swear that not a word of what you tell me shall be passed on by me.”

She was dramatic in her moods, changing in seconds; a little while ago she had seemed almost tragic, the sacrificial lamb on the altar of family pride; now her eyes were flashing with excitement. She was the conspirator.

I found her charming. I could understand why the astute Lord Carlton, who must have known it was his fortune which made him so desirable to the Marlingtons, had become a victim to her charm.

I said: “I do not want my affairs talked about.”

“I will keep silent. I swear I will.”

“All right. I did marry Aubrey St. Clare. The marriage wasn’t successful. I had a little boy. I stayed with my husband because of him. When he died, I left.”

“You left? That was a brave thing to do.”

“There was nothing brave about it. I could not stay there, so I came away. I was fortunate. I had enough money from my father to live on not extravagantly but with a degree of comfort and that is what I am doing.”

“I have an income, too. The family think it is a pittance, but I dare say it is not all that small… only if you want to support a big house with a retinue of servants and prop up leaking roofs and fight the death watch beetle. If you were in my place, what would you do?”

I lifted my shoulders.

“How can I say? I don’t know all the details.

There must be a great deal more to this than you have told me. “

I think that was a fateful evening . last night. “

“Oh?”

“Yes, meeting you … and all that talk about Florence Nightingale.

I’ve met the Nightingales. Not Florence, but her mother and father. I didn’t take much notice of them. It would have been different if Florence had been there. I am sure that would have been most exciting.

Well, anyway, the talk last night made me feel that I could break out of the trap if I had the courage of people like you and Miss Nightingale. “

“Do you mean you want to break off your engagement?”

She nodded.

“If you feel like that, you should.”

“You see, at first I thought of all the rejoicing in the family and how pleased Tom was, and how nice it was to stop everyone worrying about what this and that cost… but then I thought of the things I should have to endure. Well, he’s very nice, but sometimes the way he looks at me to tell you frankly, Miss Pleydell, I feel a little scared, no, not a little bit, a lot. And then … and then …”

Memories were coming back; awakening in that bedroom in Venice and seeing Aubrey standing by the bed. How did one know what secret desires could take possession of people? I looked at this girl fresh, young and so vitally attractive. What had happened to me could scar one for a lifetime . perhaps for ever; it could colour one’s outlook on life; it could warp one’s healthy and natural instincts.

I knew that Henrietta should break off her engagement because when I looked into her lovely face I could see the terror peeping out.

She was looking at me earnestly, almost pleadingly.

I said: “It seems strange that you should come to me with your problem. You hardly know me. There must be someone else … someone near you.”

“Who? My parents? My parents’ friends? They think it is the catch of the season. They say there is not a debutante who isn’t green with envy because I have captured the prize. You know how people are. He’s highly respected. He’s a lord a title he earned for himself, which should be applauded, but as you know, people think more of those who have had their titles handed down. He’s a friend of important people like Lord Derby and Lord Aberdeen and Lord Palmerston. Prince Albert approves of him because he brings a lot of business to the country. I ought to be honoured and nattered, and I am. But I am scared, more scared than flattered.”

“It is a matter for you to decide.”

“I know what you’d do. You’d break it off. You’re strong. I admire you. You left your husband and they would all say that was social suicide. But you don’t care about that, do you?”

“I don’t seek to go into society.”

“Prince Albert wouldn’t receive you. He’s very straitlaced.”

“I can well do without Prince Albert’s company. I do not want to be received by anyone. I am comfortable here. I am quite ready to leave everything as it is until I find out what I can do.”

She looked at me with sparkling eyes.

“I thought it was wonderful the way you went into that hospital.”

“Wonderful! It was horrible.”

“I know. But to go in and get that girl out. It was magnificent. So I thought you were the one whom I should ask.”

“My dear Miss Marlington, you are the only one who can decide on that.”

“But if it were you, would you go ahead and marry him?”

I closed my eyes. Those memories persisted. This man who was so much older than herself, how did she know what he would expect other? She was not in love with him. That much was clear; and fears had come to her. I remembered the dream I had had on the night before my wedding.

Had that been a warning? I had not recognized it as such. But this girl was being more clearly warned.

I said: “You are not in love with him. If you were, you would want to marry him.”

“So you think I should break it off’ ” How can I advise you? It is for you to decide. “

“But if you were in my place, what would you do?”

I did not answer.

“I know,” she said triumphantly.

“Thank you, Miss Pleydell.”

Her mood changed. She became very merry. She told me amusing incidents about coming out in society; how the importance of making one’s mark was astonishing. Her first ball had been a nightmare before it started and turned out to be a triumph.

“I was so scared that I should be a failure and no one would ask me to dance. To be a wallflower is the haunting fear of every debutante.

And if you are a success, all the mamas are a-titter and terribly jealous except your own, of course, who is triumphant. It is an ordeal.”

“Which I am sure you came through with flying colours.”

“I had lots of partners and it was fun, and it went on being fun for a long time. Then Tom appeared, and there was all the excitement which grew and grew. I was petted and pampered, their darling, their ewe lamb, their saviour. It is a terrible responsibility.”

We had come round to the subject again.

When she left me, she took my hand and held it.

“May I call you Anna?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“And you will call me Henrietta.”

I agreed. I expected I should not see her again, but I should probably hear whether or not she had broken her engagement. It would be in the society columns of the newspapers.

I was unprepared for the sequel. Two days later a jar vie arrived at the house. I looked through the window and, to my amazement, saw Henrietta stepping out. The driver was carrying two travelling bags to the door.

Jane answered the knock.

I heard Henrietta’s voice.

“Is Miss Pleydell at home?” And then to the driver.