I heard Nanny say ominously: “There’ll have to be an inquest, and then we shall see what’s what.”

The house was different. There seemed to be menacing shadows everywhere. I felt that something tremendous was about to burst on us, but I told myself that it would be very pleasant when it was all settled, for we should be without Mrs. Marline and we could all be happy.

But life does not work out like that.

There was the inquest to come, and that ominous word seemed to crop up in every overheard conversation.

The blinds were drawn throughout the house so that the place was darkened. The doors of those rooms which had been occupied by Mrs. Marline were locked and no one was allowed to go into them.

Estella said that when people died suddenly they were cut up to see what had killed them: and, with my talent for eavesdropping, I sensed from Nanny and Mrs. Barton that, when this was done, something important would be revealed.

It was about three days after Mrs. Marline’s death when a visitor arrived at Commonwood House. She was a tall, thin, important-looking lady and I was struck by her resemblance to Mrs. Marline. She was greeted with some surprise by the doctor.

From my vantage-point, I heard her say: “I thought it was time I came.

Something should be done about the children. “

She went into the drawing-room with the doctor and there was a long pause during which I could hear nothing; and after a while Estella was summoned to the drawing-room. She was there for a long time and then she emerged, looking bewildered. She ran up to her room and I followed her.

“Who’s that and what does she want?” I asked.

“I haven’t seen her before.”

“She’s my Aunt Florence. Adeline and I are going to stay with her.”

I looked at her blankly.

“When?”

“Now,” she said.

“I’ve got to get Nanny to help me get some things together.”

“Where are you going?”

“I told you. To stay with her. She’s come to fetch us.”

“Is it a holiday?”

Estella shrugged her shoulders.

“She says it’s best for us not to be here.”

“Do you mean you’re going … now? That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

Estella was always irritable when she was worried, and I could see she was not very eager to go with Aunt Florence who, to my knowledge, had never come to Commonwood before.

“How long for?” I asked.

“I think until this inquest is over. She thinks that’s best. She says we shouldn’t be involved.”

“What about me?”

Estella shrugged her shoulders.

“She didn’t say anything about you .. only Adeline and me. And Henry’s all right because he’s at school.”

I felt more deserted and alone than I had since the days before Uncle Toby came into my life.

Aunt Florence went away, taking Estella and Adeline with her. I shall never forget Adeline’s face as she got into the station fly, with Estella, Aunt Florence and the luggage. She looked as though she were too bewildered and miserable even to cry.

Then I was alone.

It was strange without Estella and Adeline, but at least Miss Carson had not gone with them. She seemed very nervous. She told me that Aunt Florence was Mrs. Marline’s sister. They had not seen each other for years because they could not get on with each other. That did not surprise me, as I could not imagine anyone’s getting on well with Mrs. Marline; and her sister. Aunt Florence, seemed very like her.

Miss Carson said: “There was some upset in the family when Mrs.

Marline married the doctor. They thought she married beneath her by marrying a country doctor when she should have married into the peerage.” Miss Carson added, in a bitter voice which did not fit her somehow:

“What a pity she didn’t.”

I wondered what would happen to me when the inquest was over. I was aware of a feeling of doom in the house. Once I heard Nanny Gilroy say to Mrs. Barton: “We shall be called, I don’t doubt. I shall tell all I know. You can’t hold things back at a time like this. They’ll find out anyway. There’s nothing much they miss.”

“He’s not going to like it,” replied Mrs. Barton.

“People prying into his affairs.”

“People should think of these things before they get caught.”

I was beginning to wonder what would happen at this dreaded inquest.

Then Uncle Toby appeared and I forgot everything else. I flung myself into his arms. I was joyful and tearful all at once.

I said: “They’ve gone … Estella and Adeline.”

“I know. To my sister Florence. Poor little things. And they left you, did they?”

I nodded.

“Just as well, because I’ve come to take you away with me for a while.”

I could not believe that I was hearing correctly.

“Away with you?” I repeated.

“Just a little while. Till things settle down. Didn’t we say we’d sail together one day?”

“Sail?” I cried.

He looked at me and smiled

“It seemed a good idea.”

I could not believe this was really happening. Life had taken a strange turn since Mrs. Marline’s death, but this was more fantastic than anything so far. To go away from this gloomy house, with its secrets which I could not understand, to be with Uncle Toby! To sail, he had said. It was too much to be taken in all at once. It was like a dream from which I feared I would wake at any moment.

I just stared blankly at him as I realized he meant what he said, joyous relief beginning to flood through me.

I have to admit that I was too excited to think much about poor Adeline, parted from her beloved Miss Carson. Estella would not mind so much. She might even feel excited to have a change. It had not been very pleasant lately at Commonwood House. And now I was presented with this most exciting prospect-beyond everything I could have imagined.

Uncle Toby laid his plans before me. He had always said he would take me on a sea trip, hadn’t he? It seemed that this was the time. We would not have to wait long, for he would be sailing in just over a week; and there was a great deal to be done before we did. There were things I should need. Polly would help me with that.

“Who is Polly?” I asked.

“She’s my landlady. Bless Polly! What should we do without her? Well, the fact is, I rent some rooms in her house. Very convenient, really.

Well, that’s why, of course. We usually dock in Southampton and it’s my pied-a-terre. You know what that is, because I heard you’ve been learning French. It’s a little place to step into when the need arises. One day, when I’ve finished with the sea, I’ll settle. But in the meantime it’s a pied-a-terre with Mrs. Q.”

“Mrs. Q?”

“Polly. Polly Quinton, that is. She’s a real sport. You’ll love her.

She looks after those she calls her sailor boys. Oh, I’m not the only one. One of a crowd, actually. They come and go. It suits me and it suits Mrs. Q.

I’ve got four rooms at the top of the house with a view over the harbour. Not far from the old vessel, you see. Well, you know, the ship becomes part of you. Ships are wonderful. They’re temperamental . they’ve a life of their own. Funny little tricks they get up to-and each one’s different. Capricious, that’s what they are. Just like women, they say. Did you know they always call a ship “she” never “he” No, there’s nothing of a man about a ship. That’s why you get to love them, you know. “

I revelled in these conversations. He had always been loquacious and had a jaunty way of speaking, and everything that had happened in Commonwood House during those last months began to fade into a memory and I was entering a new and enthralling world, and with this exciting project ahead and the company of Uncle Toby, I was completely absorbed.

“We have just over a week before we board the Lady of the Seas,“ he told me.

“There is much to be done. Not only will you require certain garments, but there are some formalities to be seen to. I’ll arrange all that. You and Mrs. Q. can settle the other.”

As Uncle Toby had said, the house was near the docks and Polly Quinton greeted me as though she had known me all my life. She was very plump, with a rosy face and eyes which almost disappeared when she laughed, which was frequently. Everything seemed amusing to her. She had a habit of folding her hands across her large bosom and shaking with mirth.

The house was on five floors and all the rooms except those in the basement were let to sailors.

Mrs. Quinton had a special feeling for sailors, I soon discovered, for one never had to lure Mrs. Quinton into talking of herself. She would do so for as long as one cared to listen.

“My Charley was a sailor boy,” she told me, her eyes wide open and misty for once.

“He was a real man, he was. The times we had!” She shook on recollection.

“He’d come home hell bent on making the most of his leave. He was like that. They get a lot out of life, dear, that sort. Those were the days! And then that was it. He went down with his ship off South America.” She was silent for a moment, her face sad.

Then she was merry again.

“Yes, we had some good times together, and he left me comfortable. He always used to say, ” You’ll be all right, Poll, when I’ve gone. You’ve got this house. There’s a living in it. ” And so there has been. I’d stop him talking like that. It upset me. Well, he was right. I let this place off to my sailors. They remind me of my Charley. Your Uncle Toby has been with me for a number of years. He’s a real gentle man. I don’t mind telling you, dear, I’ve got a special soft spot for him.

You’re a lucky girl, you are. He’s taking you off to sea with him.