Louise released my hand reluctantly.

"My dear child," said Lady Harriet. "How tall you are! All the Framlings are tall. This will be your home now. I am your grandmama. I shall look after you now."

Louise turned to look up at me anxiously.

"Miss Delany ... Drusilla ... will be here, too. We shall all be here together. And then you shall have a nanny ... an English one ... like Miss Philwright." A faint look of criticism came into her eyes. How dared Nanny Philwright be so forgetful of her duties as to marry and leave the Framling children! She was still the old Lady Harriet. There was no change. I had thought there might be, as I had seen a little emotion. But of course that was merely for the Framling family. It did not extend to outsiders.

Both children watched her with a kind of wonder. I think the sight of them moved her deeply. Perhaps she feared she would show how much, and that made her brisk.

"I daresay the children would like something to eat," she said. "What about some broth ... some milk, bread and butter? What do you think, Drusilla?"

I felt it was an indication of her emotion that she should ask my opinion.

"They will be having their luncheon soon," she said.

"Then I think a little milk and perhaps a slice of bread and butter would be best." I turned to the children. "Would you like that?" I asked.

Louise said, "Yes, please," and Alan nodded gravely.

"Good," said Lady Harriet. "It will be sent to your rooms. I shall show them to you myself. I have had the old nursery made ready. And, later, Drusilla, I will have a talk with you. You are in the room next to the night nursery for the time being. Later we shall have a nanny ... but perhaps just at first ..."

I said I thought that was an excellent arrangement.

We went up the stairs to the old nursery and on the way up Lady Harriet despatched one of the servants for the refreshments.

The rooms were light and airy. I remembered seeing them in the old days when I had come to play with Lavinia. Then I was seeing her again, just as I had that last time, and a terrible sense of doom descended on me. Here in these rooms Fabian had held autocratic sway over, so it was said, even his mother. He had been the pampered one whose slightest whim was to be indulged, even when it meant taking a child from her family.

There would be so many memories here, and in that moment I felt that I wanted to go right away, for I could never be anything but an outsider in this house ... the rector's daughter, not quite good enough to mingle with Framling society except when she could be of some use to it.

"I will leave you to settle in," said Lady Harriet.

I had the feeling that she wanted to get away, that she could not bear to be in this room where her dead daughter had lived and played as a child, as these grandchildren of hers would now do. Could she really be overcome by emotion? I was sure it was something she would never admit.

At last she had gone and I was alone with the children.

"Is she the Queen?" asked Louise.

That was a strange day. I took the children round the house and the garden. They thought it was all wonderful. We met some of the servants, who could not hide their pleasure at the prospect of having children in the house.

I thought: They will be happy here in time. They clung to me with a little more intensity than before, which told me that they were a little uneasy about the change in their lives; and they were certainly in awe of their formidable grandmother.

My food was sent up on a tray.

Lady Harriet had intimated that she wished to talk to me that evening and I was invited to her sitting room after she had had her dinner.

"Sit down, Drusilla," she said. "There is so much I wish to say to you. I know you have endured a great deal. Sir Fabian has told me how you looked after the children and kept them safely during that dreadful time, for which we are both extremely grateful to you. Sir Fabian says you are to stay with the children, at least until his return, which he hopes will not be very long. He believes there will be changes in India because of this awful mutiny. Louise and Alan are now out of danger, but there is that other child. I know about that and your part in it. It was very unfortunate, but we will not dwell on that. I have had the whole story from my son and I have been to see those people who have the child. That dreadful place where they are living! I sent for them to come here, but they rudely ignored my request ... and I went to them. What a pity they took the child."

"I must tell you, Lady Harriet, that they were wonderful to us. I don't know what we would have done without them."

"I am not blaming you, Drusilla. Your part in the affair was ... commendable. That nursemaid of yours ... she is a forthright woman." I fancied she conceded a grudging admiration for one not unlike herself. "I suppose what they did at the time was ... admirable. But we have now to think of the child. However unfortunate her birth, she is my granddaughter and she must be brought up here at Framling."

"Lady Harriet, they have cared for her since she was a baby. They love her as they would their own. They will never let her go."

"We shall have to see about that," said Lady Harriet firmly. "Sir Fabian thinks she should be here with her half-sister and -brother."

"I know they will never give her up."

"She is a Framling and I am her grandmother. I have my rights."

"It would not be good for the child to take her away immediately."

"We shall in time make them see sense."

"But, Lady Harriet, sense to you might not be sense to them."

She looked at me in surprise that I could make such a suggestion. I did not flinch. I had made up my mind, as I had with Lavinia, that she should not dominate me. If they objected to my behaviour, I should simply have to make them understand that I was here only because I did not want to leave the children. I was more useful to Lady Harriet at this time than she was to me, and that gave me an advantage. My status was not that of an ordinary nursery governess.

"We shall see," she said ominously. Then she added, "I want you to go along and see these people."

"I intend to. Polly is very dear to me, and so are her sister and Fleur."

"Then I should like you to go as soon as possible."

"It is what I intend."

She nodded. "Explain to them the advantages the child would have here. In spite of her birth she is still my grandchild. I think they should be made to understand what that means."

"I think they will want to do what is best for the child."

"Ah. Then you can make them see good sense."

"I am not sure what their reaction will be, Lady Harriet."

"I have confidence in you, Drusilla." She bestowed a smile on me—a reward in advance for bringing her ill-begotten grandchild back to the flock, I thought. But it was not going to be as easy as that. I knew Polly and I knew Eff. They would be as resolute as Lady Harriet herself. "Well," she went on, "now that Louise and Alan are here, their future is assured."

"What of their father?" I asked. "When he returns he may have plans for them."

"Oh no." She laughed. "He will do nothing. He will see that they are better with me."

"Is there news ... ?"

"We have had very little. He was in Lucknow with that nanny and her husband." She sniffed to show distaste. "They were all safe. We did hear that. But, of course, those dreadful things are still going on. Those wicked people—to murder those who have done so much for them. English men, women and little children ... murdered by natives! They will get their just deserts, never fear."

I said, "I am glad to hear they are safe."

Lady Harriet nodded. "Well, Drusilla, it has been a long day for you ... and for me. I will say good night now. The children are sleeping, I suppose."

"Oh, yes, they are very tired."

"I have no doubt of that. I am sorry to impose the duties of nursery maid upon you. But they are used to you and it is best for the time being. I think too many changes would not be good for them at the moment. But I have a good nanny in mind."

"I certainly think that for the time being they are best with me. I have looked after them throughout the journey ... and before. They very much miss their Indian nurse."

A look of disapproval crossed her face. "Well, we shall have a good English nanny ... and that will be an end to all that. Good night, Drusilla."

"Good night, Lady Harriet."

How strange it was to be in this house once more ... to be actually living under its roof!

I went to my room. The sheets seemed very clean and cold, and the room airy and a little austere. There were too many memories ... beyond the gardens ... the green, the old church ... and the rectory ... the scenes of my childhood.

I thought of my father. I could see him, walking from the rectory to the church, his prayer book under his arm, his fine hair blowing untidily in the wind ... his thoughts far away ... in ancient Greece, most likely.

So much had happened since I left.

I did not feel tired, and yet as soon as I lay between those cool, clean sheets I fell into a deep sleep, so exhausted was I both physically and emotionally.

The next day I spent with the children. I took them for a walk through the old churchyard. I saw Colin Brady and his wife. There was a young baby now.

Ellen Brady, the doctor's daughter, now Colin's wife, insisted that I come into the rectory, where she gave me a glass of her elderberry wine. Colin came and joined us. The children sat quietly by.