Colin Brady was brisk and businesslike. He conducted the mourners back to the rectory and we drank mulled wine and ate sandwiches prepared by Mrs. Janson. An air of solemnity enveloped the house.

It was no longer my home. It could be, of course, if I married Colin. I had to think very seriously what I should do.

The will was read. There was little to leave, but what there was was mine. The solicitor told me that it would provide me with a minute income—not enough to live on in any degree of comfort, but something to fall back on if need be. He added that he expected I had already considered the situation, which must be no surprise to me.

I said I was considering.

I was aware of the expectancy around me. Mrs. Janson looked prophetic. I was sure she thought I was going to marry Colin Brady and the household would go on in the way it always had. They knew my ways; they were fond of me; they did not want a stranger in the house.

It seemed inevitable to them, for it was clear that Mr. Brady was willing, and where would I find a more suitable husband? It was high time I settled down and there was the right place just waiting for me.

Colin talked to me on the night of the funeral. I was sitting by the window staring out on the graveyard and an infinite sadness had taken possession of me. I had come to the end of a path and I did not know which way to go. And there was the easy road to take and everyone was pushing me towards it.

"What a sad day," he said. "I know what your father was to you. I was fond of him. He was a wonderfully good man."

I nodded.

"After all these years you have been together, except of course when you were at school."

Ah, there was the point. What had happened then had changed me. If I had stayed all my years in the rectory would I have felt differently? It seemed that I had briefly stepped into a world where people did wild things and paid for them; but it had made me see that there was more to life than being comfortable and living one day after another, quietly, unadventurously, almost like waiting for death.

"It's a great blow to you," he was saying. "Drusilla, won't you let me share it with you?"

"You are doing that," I told him. "You have taken on everything and done it perfectly."

"I would be only too happy to care for you from now on."

I wanted to say that I did not particularly want to be taken care of. I felt capable of looking after myself. I wanted life to be adventurous, exciting ... I was not looking for comfort, pleasant as it might be.

"There could be an early wedding. Lady Harriet has said that would be best."

"I do not allow Lady Harriet to run my life, Colin."

He laughed at me. "Of course not. But she is important, you know. Her word carries weight." He looked a little anxious. "She is worried about you. We are all worried about you."

"You must not be. You must leave me to plan for myself."

"But you have had a great shock. I don't think you fully realize that. I want you to know you just have to say the word. I won't hurry you. This is your home. It should always be your home."

"Oh, rectories are like tied cottages. They go with the job."

"Yes, that is so." He looked so earnest. I had learned that he was a man who hated indecision; and I knew I could never marry him and that it was only fair to tell him so.

"Colin," I said, "I have to tell you that I shall never marry you."

He looked taken aback.

"I am sorry," I went on. "I am fond of you ... but differently."

"Drusilla, have you thought ... ? Just contemplate. Where will you go?"

I said on the spur of the moment, "I shall go to stay with Polly for a while. I shall discuss my future with her. She knows me well. She will advise me."

"I am thinking of what is best for you and what will make a happy solution. It is clear, Drusilla, you must marry me."

"I cannot do it, Colin. You are good and kind and have done a great deal for my father and me. But I cannot marry you."

"Later perhaps ..."

"No, Colin. Please forget it."

He looked abashed and I added, "I am most sincerely grateful to you for everything and for asking me."

"You are distraught just now."

"No," I said almost angrily, for it seemed he was saying I must be foolish to refuse him. But somehow I managed to convey to him that I meant what I said. I said, "I want to retire now. It has been a stressful day."

He said he would send one of the maids up with hot milk for me to drink. I tried to protest, but he waved that aside; and later the milk was brought to my room.

I sat by the window looking out. In the distance I could see the lights of Framling. I felt lonely and lost. There would be revelry there. The Lady Geraldine and Fabian would dance together, ride together, talk ... not today, of course, out of respect for my father, but later. It was Lady Harriet's wish that he should marry her. I wondered if he would. He would be the first to agree that it was suitable.

I told myself angrily that he was the sort of man who would marry suitably and indulge his fancies somewhere else ... with lesser mortals who would be good enough for a light divertissement but not for marriage.

I said to myself: I will go to Polly.

The next day I saw Fabian ride by with a young woman whom I presumed was Lady Geraldine. She was tall and handsome. She had rather a loud voice and they were chatting animatedly together. I heard Fabian laugh.

I went into the house and put some things together into a bag. I did not know how long I would stay, but I must make up my mind what I was going to do before I returned.

With Polly I found the comfort I was so sorely in need of.

Fleur was now five years old. She was a sensible child and full of high spirits. "Up to a trick or two," was Eff's fond comment and Polly added that she was as sharp as a "wagon load of monkeys."

She welcomed me. Both Polly and Eff always referred to me in near reverent terms when they spoke of me to her and it had its effect. I spent a lot of time with her. I found some books in a secondhand shop ... books that I had had as a child ... and I started to teach her. She was an apt pupil.

I began to think I could make a happy life for myself with Polly and Eff. I had my little income, which would suffice. I could teach Fleur and we could all be happy together.

Polly was worried about me.

"What will you be doing?" she asked.

"I have time to make up my mind, Polly," I replied. "I don't have to rush into anything."

"No. That's a mercy."

"I'd like to stay here for a while. I love being with Fleur. It takes my mind off things."

"Well, for a bit, but it's no life for a young lady as has been educated like you have. Where are you going to meet anyone here?"

"Your mind runs on familiar lines. Are you thinking of getting me married?"

"Well, it's a lottery, they say, but there is a chance of the right number coming up ... and if it does, well, there's nothing like it."

"I'm sure you're right, Polly."

"It's a pity about that Colin."

"I couldn't marry him just because it provided the good solution."

"Nobody's asking you to."

"Oh yes they are. Lady Harriet for one and Colin Brady for another."

"Oh, them ..."

"I know you're different, Polly, but good solution though it might be, I couldn't do it."

"Then let's go on from there. You're not still thinking of that Dougal. A nice one he'd be ... leading a girl up the garden path and then liking the flowers in the garden next door."

"Oh, Polly," I laughed, "it wasn't quite like that."

"How else, I'd like to know. There he was coming to see you and the rector and that Lavinia comes along and gives him the glad eye ... and it's whoops and away."

I couldn't help laughing, which showed how little I minded that it had happened that way.

"He'll rue the day he ever came into his fortune."

"Perhaps not, Polly. She's very beautiful and let's face it ... I'm not."

"You're as God intended you to be."

"Aren't we all?"

"And you're as good looking as any. There's some men as can't resist that 'come hither' look, and they are the ones to avoid, so thank your lucky stars you fell out of that one. I wouldn't touch that Dougal with a barge pole even if he come crawling back on his hands and knees."

"A spectacle, I assure you, we are unlikely to see."

"He'll soon be seeing he's made a mighty mistake. He'll be wishing he hadn't been so daft. You take my word for it."

"I think Lavinia may have changed now she has a child."

"Leopards don't change their spots, so I've always heard."

"Lavinia is not a leopard."

"She's as likely to change as one of them. Mark my words, he's regretting that hasty step. But it's you we've got to think of."

"I'm happier here than I could be anywhere else, Polly."

"For a while, yes ... but something has to be done."

"Let's wait, shall we? Let's wait and see."

She nodded.

The days passed. Fleur brought a lot of pleasure. We played games together. Then when she was in bed asleep I would sit with Polly and Eff and listen to their racy talk about the tenants.

"We do see life," said Eff with a chortle.

Polly agreed, but I could see she thought it was not the life I should be leading.

Then the letter came from Lady Harriet. Her family crest was on the envelope and Eff hoped the postman noticed it. She would bring Lady Harriet into the conversation next time she talked to Second Floor No. 32.