"You live in that awful old rectory," she said. "Ugh."

"It's very nice," I told her.

"It's not like this."

"It doesn't have to be nice."

Lavinia looked shocked that I had contradicted her and I felt that ours was not going to be the easy relationship which that between Miss York and Miss Etherton showed signs of becoming.

"What games do you play?" she asked.

"Oh ... guessing games, with Polly, my nurse, and with Miss York we sometimes imagine we are taking a journey through the world and mention all the places we should pass through."

"What a dull game!"

"It's not."

"Oh yes it is," she affirmed as though that were the last word to be said on the matter.

The tea arrived, brought in by a maid in starched cap and apron. Lavinia dashed to the table.

"Don't forget your guest," said Miss Etherton. "Drusilla, will you sit here?"

There was bread and butter with strawberry jam and little cakes with coloured icing on them.

Miss York was watching me. Bread and butter first. It was impolite to have cakes before that. But Lavinia did not observe the rules. She took one of the cakes. Miss Etherton looked apologetically at Miss York, who pretended not to notice. When I had eaten my piece of bread and butter I was offered one of the cakes. I took one with blue icing on it.

"It's the last of the blue ones," announced Lavinia. "I wanted that."

"Lavinia!" said Miss Etherton.

Lavinia took no notice. She regarded me, expecting me, I knew, to give the cake to her. Remembering Polly, I did not. I deliberated, picked it up from my plate and bit into it.

Miss Etherton lifted her shoulders and looked at Miss York.

It was an uncomfortable teatime.

I believe both Miss York and Miss Etherton were greatly relieved when it was over and we were despatched to play, leaving the two governesses together.

I followed Lavinia, who told me we were going to play hide and seek. She took a penny from her pocket and said: "We'll toss." I had no idea what she meant. "Choose heads or tails," she said.

I chose heads.

She spun the coin and it landed on the palm of her hands. She held it where I could not see it and said, "I've won. That means I choose. You'll hide and I'll seek. Go on. I'll count to ten ..."

"Where ..." I began.

"Anywhere ..."

"But this house is so big ... I don't know."

"Course it's big. It's not that silly little rectory." She gave me a push. "You'd better go on. I'm starting to count now."

Of course she was Miss Lavinia of the Big House. She was a year older than I. She seemed very knowledgeable and sophisticated; and I was a guest. Miss York had told me that guests often had to be uncomfortable and do things they would rather not. It was all part of the duty of being a guest.

I went out of the room leaving Lavinia counting ominously. Three, four, five ... It sounded like the tolling of the funeral bell.

I hurried on. The house seemed to be laughing at me. How could I possibly hide in a house of whose geography I was ignorant?

For a few moments I went blindly on. I came to a door and opened it. I was in a small room. There were some chairs, the seatbacks of which had been worked in blue and yellow needlepoint. It was the ceiling that attracted my attention; it was painted and there were little fat cupids up there seated on clouds. There was another door in this room. I went through it and I was in a passage.

There was no place to hide there. What should I do? I wondered. Perhaps make my way to the schoolroom, find Miss York and tell her I wanted to go home. I wished Polly had come with me. She would never have left me to the mercy of Miss Lavinia.

I must try to retrace my steps. I turned and went, as I thought, back. I came to a door, expecting to see the fat cupids on the ceiling, but this was not so. I was in a long gallery, the walls of which were lined with pictures. There was a dais at one end on which stood a harpsichord and gilded chairs.

I looked fearfully at the portraits. They seemed like real people regarding me severely for having trespassed into their domain.

I felt the house was jeering at me and I wanted Polly. I was getting near to panic. I had the uneasy notion that I was caught and never going to get away. I was going to spend the rest of my life wandering about the house trying to find my way out.

There was a door at one end of the gallery. I went through this and was in another long passage. I was facing a flight of stairs. It was either a matter of going on or going back to the gallery. I mounted the stairs; there was another passage and then ... a door.

Recklessly I opened this. I was in a small dark room. In spite of mounting fears I was fascinated. There was something foreign about it. The curtains were of heavy brocade and there was a strange smell. I learned afterwards that it was sandalwood. There were brass ornaments on carved wooden tables. It was an exciting room and for a moment I forgot my fears. There was a fireplace and on the mantel shelf a fan. It was very beautiful, in a lovely shade of blue with big black spots. I knew what it was, because I had seen pictures of peacocks. It was a fan made of peacock feathers. I felt an urge to touch it. I could just reach it by standing on tiptoe. The feathers were very soft.

Then I looked about me. There was a door. I went to it. Perhaps I could find someone who would show me the way back to the schoolroom and Miss York.

I opened the door and looked cautiously in.

A voice said, "Who is there?"

I advanced into the room. I said, "It is Drusilla Delany. I came to tea and I am lost."

I went forward. I saw a high-backed chair and in it an old lady. There was a rug over her knees, which I felt showed she was an invalid. Beside her was a table strewn with papers. They looked like letters.

She peered at me and I looked back boldly. It was not my fault that I was lost. I had not been treated as a guest should be.

"Why do you come to see me, little girl?" she asked in a high-pitched voice. She was very pale and her hands shook. For a moment I thought that she was a ghost.

"I didn't. I'm playing hide and seek and I am lost."

"Come here, child."

I went.

She said, "I have not seen you before."

"I live in the rectory. I came to tea with Lavinia and this is supposed to be a game of hide and seek."

"People don't come to see me."

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "I am reading his letters," she said.

"Why do you look at them if they make you cry?" I asked.

"He was so wonderful. It was ill fortune. I destroyed him. It was my fault. I should have known. I was warned ..."

I thought she was the strangest person I had ever met. I had always sensed that extraordinary things could happen in this house.

I said I should have to go back to the schoolroom. "They will wonder where I am. And it is not very polite for guests to wander about houses, is it?"

She put out a hand which reminded me of a claw and gripped my wrist. I was about to call for help when the door opened and a woman came into the room. Her appearance startled me. She was not English. Her hair was very dark; her eyes deep set and black; she was wearing what I learned later was a sari. It was a deep shade of blue, rather like the fan, and I thought it beautiful. She moved very gracefully, and said in a pleasant sing-song voice: "Oh dearie me. Miss Lucille, what is this? And who are you, little girl?"

I explained who I was and how I came to be here.

"Oh, Miss Lavinia ... but she is a naughty, naughty girl to treat you so. Hide and seek." She lifted her hands. "And in this house ... and you find Miss Lucille. People do not come here. Missie Lucille likes to be alone."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

She patted my shoulder. "Oh no ... no ... it is naughty Miss Lavinia. One of these days ..." She pursed her lips, and putting the palms of her hands together, gazed up at the ceiling for a moment. "But you must go back. I will show you. Come with me."

She took my hand and pressed it reassuringly.

I looked at Miss Lucille. The tears were slowly running down her cheeks.

"This part of the house is for Miss Lucille," I was told. "I live here with her. We are here ... and not here ... You understand?"

I didn't, but I nodded.

We went back by way of the gallery and then through parts which I had not seen before and it seemed to me some little time before we reached the schoolroom.

The woman opened the door. Miss York and Miss Etherton were deep in conversation. There was no sign of Lavinia.

They looked startled to see me.

"What happened?" asked Miss Etherton.

"They play hide and seek. This little one ... in a house she does not know. She was lost and came to Miss Lucille."

"Oh, I am sorry," said Miss Etherton. "Miss Lavinia should have taken better care of her guest. Thank you, Ayesha."

I turned to smile at her. I liked her gentle voice and kind black eyes. She returned my smile and went gracefully away.

"I hope Drusilla didn't, er ..." began Miss York.

"Oh no. Miss Lucille lives apart with her servants. There is another ... both Indian. She was out there, you know. The family has connections with the East India Company. She is a little ... strange now."

Both governesses looked at me and I guessed the matter would be discussed further when they were alone.