He replied that he was going to visit his old friend Ned Netherby and planned to stay the night at an inn about four miles on and then go to Netherby the following day.

“But you cannot do that,” cried my mother. “You must stay here for the night. We wouldn’t hear of your going to stay at an inn, would we Leigh?”

Leigh said that the General must stay and the latter needed little persuasion.

“Then that is settled,” said my mother. “You will excuse me and I will see that they get your room ready. Carlotta, Damaris, come along and help.”

We went out with her.

“I could see that the General wished to talk to your father,” she said. “They will have memories to share. I know they served together at one time.”

I went to my room and Damaris went to help my mother. I was mildly excited as I always was by visitors; and there was something about the General which made me feel that this was not an idle call. There was something purposeful about him. He was an attractive man. He must have been about six feet tall and a little older than Leigh, I imagine. He had a very military bearing and there was no doubt that he was a soldier. There was a scar on his right cheek to confirm this. It added to rather than detracted from his rugged good looks.

I had an idea that he might have come to persuade Leigh to come back to the army. A thought I was sure could not have occurred to my mother or her welcome would not have been so warm.

At dinner there was a great deal of talk about the old army days and Leigh quite clearly enjoyed these reminiscences.

The General talked about the King, whom he clearly did not like. “The Dutchman,” he called him and used the term as one of contempt; and when he mentioned his name his colour deepened and the scar showed up whiter in contrast to the reddish tinge of his skin.

We left them talking together over their wine and my mother said to me: “He is a charming man but I hope he is not reminding Leigh too much of his life in the army. He talks about it as though it is some sort of paradise.”

“My father would never want to leave you again, mother,” said Damaris.

My mother smiled. Then she said: “I wonder why the General came?”

“It is because he was passing on his way to Netherby Hall,” said Damaris. “He said so.”

I smiled at my dear innocent sister. She believed everything everyone said.

The next day was Sunday and we were going to Eversleigh to dine, as we always did on Sundays. Although Leigh and my mother had bought the Dower House, they both regarded Eversleigh as their home. I had lived part of my life there and my mother all her life until recently. Damaris had been born there and it was only within the last year or so that Leigh had bought the Dower House. There was a walk of five minutes between the two houses and my grandparents became indignant if we did not call frequently. I loved Eversleigh, although perhaps Harriet’s Eyot Abbass was more like home to me.

It was dinnertime and we were all at table in the great hall. My grandmother Arabella Eversleigh loved to have us all together. Damaris was a special favourite of hers, in a way that I could never be; but my grandfather Carleton had always had a special feeling for me. He was a most unconventional man, of fiery temper, arrogant and obstinate. I felt especially drawn towards him and I believe he did to me. I think he was rather amused by the fact that I was his daughter’s bastard and there was a grudging admiration in him because my mother had defied conventions and produced me. I liked Grandfather Carleton. I fancied our characters were not dissimilar.

The house had been built in the days of Elizabeth in the E style with a wing on either side of the main great hall. I was attracted by that hall with its rough stone walls and I liked the armoury which adorned it. There was a military tradition in the Eversleigh family. Carleton had only briefly been a soldier; he had stayed home after the Civil War to hold the estates until the Restoration; the part he had played, I had always heard had demanded far more courage than a soldier needed and infinitely more skill; for he had posed as a Roundhead when his sympathies were Royalist in the extreme and so saved Eversleigh for posterity. I could well imagine his doing that. Every time he looked up at the vaulted ceiling with its broad oak beams, every time he glanced at the family tree which had been painted over the great fireplace, he must have reminded himself: If it had not been for my courage and resource during those Commonwealth years all this would have been lost.

Yes, the military history of the family was apparent everywhere. Leigh had been a soldier until recently; my grandmother Arabella’s son by her first marriage was Edwin, the present Lord Eversleigh, and he was away from home now in the army. Jane—a rather colourless female—and their son, Carleton—called Carl to distinguish him from Carleton—lived at Eversleigh, which was indeed Edwin’s, although my grandfather regarded it as his, which was not surprising since he managed the estate for years and had saved it for them in any case. There would not have been an Eversleigh Court but for him. My grandmother’s father had been General Tolworthy who had distinguished himself in the Royalist cause. I remember that Beau had been in the army for a while. It was during the Monmouth Rebellion, he told me once and had seemed secretly amused by this. Even Carleton himself had been in the army then—on the side of Monmouth. Not that he had been a professional soldier. He had just been fighting for a special cause then.

So we were sure that our guest General Langdon would feel at home in such a household.

At the table on this day were my grandparents, Carleton and Arabella, Edwin’s wife, Lady Eversleigh, and young Carl; Priscilla, Leigh, myself and Damaris. Also present were our neighbors of Grasslands Manor, Thomas Willerby and his son, Thomas Junior, who was about a year or two younger than I. Thomas Willerby was a widower whose wife had died recently. He was very sad about this, for it had been an exceptionally happy marriage. My mother felt the death of Christabel Willerby deeply, for Christabel had been a governess companion to her before her marriage and remained a good friend. There was another Willerby child at Grasslands—a baby girl. She was probably a year old and had been named Christabel after the mother, who had died bringing her into the world. My mother had made the tragedy hers, and the Willerbys were constant visitors at our house. She had insisted that Christabel come to our nursery for a while until arrangements could be made; and Sally Nullens, our old nurse, and Emily Philpots, who acted as governess to the children for years, were delighted with the arrangements. As for Thomas Willerby, he was so overcome with gratitude towards my mother that his eyes filled with tears almost every time he looked at her. He was a very sentimental man.

Both my grandparents welcomed General Langdon warmly and the conversation at the dinner table for the first fifteen minutes was all about the army.

Then Priscilla said rather pointedly, so I knew that she was giving voice to something which had been occupying her mind for some time: “It seems to me that Enderby Hall should not be left standing idle. It never did a house any good to remain empty.”

“True,” said Thomas, always ready to back her up. “They get damp. Houses need fires and people. They need living in.”

“Such a lovely old house,” said Jane Eversleigh. “Though I don’t think I should like to live in it. I get the shivers every time I pass by.”

“Only because you listen to gossip,” said my grandfather. “If this talk of ghosts hadn’t got around, no one would think of ghosts.”

“Are you interested in ghosts, General Langdon?” I asked.

“I have never seen one,” he said, “and I am inclined to need the evidence of my eyes.”

“Oh, you have no faith,” said Arabella.

“Seeing is believing,” said the General. “How did the gossip start?”

“I think it began when one of the occupiers tried to hang herself. She did not have a long enough rope and was badly injured. She died soon after.”

“Poor woman, what made her do such a thing?”

“Her husband was involved in a plot.”

“The Popish Plot,” said Carl.

“No,” I said, “that was my father. This was the Rye House Plot, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Priscilla, rather uneasily I thought.

“They plotted against the King,” said Carleton. “It was a foolish and criminal thing to do.”

“I cannot understand why people have to do these things,” said Priscilla.

“My dear lady,” said the General, “if they feel something is wrong some men have the urge to put it right.”

“And endanger lives,” said Arabella fiercely.

“Oh, it is all past and done with,” said Carleton. “But that is just how the house got its reputation.”

“I should like to see a nice family settled in,” said my mother. “It is pleasant to have good neighbors.”

She was nervous and Leigh was watching her anxiously. I thought: They have talked about this together. I was sure then that my sister had reported finding me lying on the four-poster; she might even have mentioned that she thought I was talking to someone called Bow.

“It does happen to be my house,” I said. I turned to the General. “It was left to me by my father’s uncle. He was Robert Frinton.”

The General said: “I knew the family. A great tragedy.”

My mother was clenching her hands uneasily. She was very nervous today. It was the General who was making her so.

“There are a few months to go before you can claim possession,” said my grandfather. “But I don’t doubt that if a sale was arranged it would be approved.”