The same thoughts were in Zillah’s mind, I guessed from the looks she gave me. I felt ashamed of myself for continuing with this farce. I felt I was betraying myself, Jamie, Alastair … everyone.

I kept reminding myself that I had to do so. Jamie had suggested it. I had to think of our future together. That was more important than anything.

Jamie had changed. Some of the joy had gone out of our relationship. He was thoughtful, a little melancholy. He told me that he hated to think of my meetings with Alastair McCrae and the subterfuge I was forced to practise.

“But what can we do?” he demanded. “It’s this wretched poverty. If only I were as rich as Alastair McCrae.”

“Perhaps you will be one day, Jamie, and we shall laugh at all this.”

“Yes, we will, won’t we? But this happens to be now, when I am as poor as the mice in my father’s kirk. Does he talk to you … about marriage?”

“No. He is very kind really. He thinks that in time I shall agree to marry him. He thinks of my being young … younger than I really am. He wants to wait until I am ready. He is sure that in time I will agree. He’s trying to tell me how good he will be to me. I feel terrible really. It’s all such deceit. How I wish I could get away. I don’t want to stay in the house anymore. I don’t know what it is, but …”

“You get on very well with Zillah, don’t you?”

“Yes. She is a comfort in a way, but … I don’t always feel that I know her very well. I think she’s an actress at heart, and I never quite know when she is acting.”

“She’s a good sort.”

“My father dotes on her.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Oh, Jamie, what are we going to do?”

“Just wait. Something will happen. We’ll think of something.”

We tried to cheer ourselves by talking of what we would do as soon as we were able, but the joy had gone and had been replaced by a deep apprehension; and we could not shake it off, however much we pretended to.

THE NEXT DAY I was on my way to see Jamie and as I came into the hall I met Ellen.

She said: “Oh, I’m glad I’ve seen you, Miss Davina. Are you going out? I don’t like to ask you, but I wonder if …” She hesitated, frowning.

“What is it, Ellen?”

“I’d go myself, but I can’t get out just now, and I don’t want Mrs. Kirkwell to know. It will upset her. She’ll be in a real panic. I did ask Hamish … but he’s run out of it and he asked me to get it. He’ll show me how to use it, he said.”

“What is it you want, Ellen?”

“Well, this morning when I went to the dustbin which you know is just outside the kitchen door, I lifted the lid and a rat jumped out.”

“Oh dear!”

“Yes. I’m glad I was the one who saw it … not Mrs. Kirkwell. I told Hamish and he said he can’t get to the shop today. Mr. Glentyre wants him on duty. But he said it ought to be seen to right away. He’s killed two or three in the mews already and he thinks they are trying elsewhere. He said rats are clever things.”

“Mrs. Kirkwell will be horrified.”

“Yes, Hamish said you have to take prompt action; otherwise they’ll be in the house and they multiply quickly. I thought … as you are going out … you might drop in at Henniker’s and get some of that arsenic.”

“Is that what you ask for? Arsenic … just like that?”

“Yes. Sixpenny worth of arsenic. They’ll ask you what it’s for and you can tell them it’s for the rats. Lots of people use it for that. Then you have to sign a book, I think. That’s what Hamish said.”

“Of course I’ll get it.”

“Oh thanks. Don’t tell anyone. People get so panicky about rats and if it got to Mrs. Kirkwell’s ears she’d be hysterical.”

“All right. Don’t worry. I’ll get it and say nothing.”

“And as soon as you come back, I’ll put it in the dustbin. Thanks so much, Miss Davina.”

I went straight to the drug shop. There was a young man behind the counter. He smiled at me.

“I want sixpennyworth of arsenic,” I said.

He looked at me, faintly surprised. “Oh … er … Miss, I have to ask you what you want it for. It’s a sort of rule … if you know what I mean.”

“Of course. We have rats in the garden. They have been round the mews quarters and seem now to have come closer to the house.”

“It will do the trick,” he said. “But as it’s poison, I have to ask you to sign the book.”

“I understand that.”

He went to a drawer and brought out a book with a red cover. A label had been stuck on it which stated: “Henniker’s Sale of Poisons Registration Book.”

“Do you sell a lot of arsenic?” I asked.

“No, Miss. But people use it for vermin and things like that. It’s very effective. One lick and that’s the end of them. They do say it does something for the complexion and that ladies use it for that. I couldn’t say. Men take it, too.” He looked at me slyly. “They say it has powers.”

“Powers?”

“When they are not so young, you know.”

He opened the book, and wrote the date and my name and address which I spelt out for him. “Sixpennyworth of arsenic for vermin in garden. Now you sign here, Miss.”

I did and came out of the shop with a small packet in the pocket of my skirt.

I found Jamie waiting for me, and we talked as usual and I felt frustrated, for I knew it would be a long time before he could take me out of this difficult situation.

When I came back to the house Ellen was waiting for me. Surreptitiously she took the packet.

“I haven’t seen any more yet,” she said. “I’ll use this right away.”

A FEW DAYS LATER when I saw Ellen she told me that it had worked beautifully, she was sure. She had not seen anything since and Mrs. Kirkwell had no idea that the rats had been so close. She impressed on me not to mention it to her.

It was later that afternoon. Zillah had gone out in the carriage as she often did. She enjoyed going to the shops and sometimes, she told me, Hamish took her for a tour of the town. Listening to my talk of it she had become interested and was finding it fascinating.

Usually she was home before five o’clock when she would change for dinner—by no means a short operation with her.

I fancied my father had been weaker since his last bout of illness. Zillah thought so, too. Sometimes when he came home he seemed very tired and needed little persuasion to have his meal in his own room. Zillah would, of course, take hers with him.

“It makes him feel less of an invalid and he likes me to be there,” she said.

On this particular occasion it was getting late and Zillah had not returned.

I went over to the mews. The carriage was not there. Mr. and Mrs. Vosper were in. They told me that Hamish had taken Mrs. Glentyre out as he often did and they expected him to be back at any moment.

Mrs. Kirkwell was wondering whether to serve dinner. The master was having his in his room, but he would expect Mrs. Glentyre to have it with him there.

“He’ll have to be told,” said Mrs. Kirkwell. “You’d best tell him, Miss Davina.”

I went to his room. He was dressed for dinner and was sitting in a chair.

“Is that you, my dear?” he said with relief.

“No,” I replied. “It is I.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Zillah has not returned.”

“Where is she?”

“I thought she went shopping.”

“In the carriage?”

“Yes.”

“She wouldn’t be shopping at this hour surely?”

“No.”

“Then where is she?”

He was clutching the sides of his chair arid had half risen. I thought how ill he looked. He had lost weight and there were dark shadows under his eyes.

I remembered Mrs. Kirkwell’s saying how he had changed and repeating her conviction that it was not good when old men married young women.

It was just at that moment when I heard the sound of carriage wheels. I rushed to the window.

“It’s the carriage. She’s here.”

“Oh, thank God,” said my father.

In a few moments Zillah rushed into the room.

“Oh, my dears, what an adventure! Were you wondering where I was? The carriage broke down. We had driven out to take a look at Arthur’s Seat. I wanted to see it—hearing you talk about it, Davina …”

“Didn’t Hamish know what was wrong?” asked my father.

“Oh yes. He tried to put it right. He discovered that he needed something … I don’t know what. He said he would get a cab for me to come back … but it was so difficult right out there to get one. Anyway … he managed to fix it up … enough to get us home. But it made this terrible delay.”

“I have been so worried,” said my father.

“Oh, how sweet of you!”

“But of course I was worried.”

“He’s only just heard that you hadn’t come back at the time,” I said.

“I was wondering what could have happened to you,” went on my father.

She ruffled his hair. “Well, here I am. And we are going to have our cosy little meal for the two of us. You’ll excuse us, Davina … I think that’s how it should be tonight.”

“But of course,” I said.

I left them together and went downstairs and ate a solitary meal.

THE NEXT AFTERNOON Miss Appleyard called. Zillah had not gone out. I thought she was a little shaken by the carriage incident of the previous day. She and I were in the drawing room together when Miss Appleyard was announced.

We knew her only slightly. In the old days my mother had exchanged a word or two with her after church. I had heard it said that she was a rather malicious gossip who thrived on scandal. My mother had once said that she was a person from whom one should keep one’s distance.