“That scamp Jonathan,” he said.

“What is it this time?”

“Weston’s Lizzie.”

“She’s only a child. What is she? Fourteen or so?”

“That makes it worse. Jonathan’s not much older. That boy’s got a few things to learn. If he’s got to sow his wild oats he’d better choose somewhere else to do it—not on my land.”

My mother looked at my father and then at Peter.

“I’m sorry about his,” she said.

“Well,” said my father. “Young people. Hot blood. These things happen. I had a job to calm down Weston.”

Peter, showing a slight embarrassment as though he realized he had strayed into something which my father would have wished to be private, said he must be going and took his leave.

“He has impeccable manners,” said my mother. “Dickon, need you have blurted that out in front of him?”

“You asked me and I told you. Nothing very unusual about it. I think we shall have some more of that sort of trouble from Jonathan. Or the Pettigrews will. I was wondering if I ought to speak to Millicent or her father.”

My mother said: “You know Millicent. She can see no wrong in her boy. And Lord Pettigrew is too softly spoken. Now Lady Pettigrew … No, Dickon, you are the one who will strike fear into his wicked little heart. You’ll have to do it.”

“He’s his father all over again.”

“Well, Jonathan was a fine worker and he died nobly,” said Claudine.

“Yes, but all this philandering doesn’t go down well on the estate.”

“You are quite content for him to do it elsewhere?” I said.

“My dear girl, you know nothing about these matters.”

“Weston’s a good man,” said David. “His farm is a model for some of them.”

“And now he’s going to worry about his Lizzie,” put in my father. “If she presents us with a baby in nine months’ time, our Jonathan will be in trouble.”

“I suppose that was why Weston came to see you at once,” said David. “He wants you to know that Jonathan is responsible.”

“The young can be a plaguey nuisance,” said my father. “He’s got to mend his ways. I’ll not have Eversleigh going to someone who is going to play ducks and drakes with it… that’s for certain. His father was no good on the estate.”

“Well, you had David,” said Claudine.

My father grunted.

“We’ll see how the young scamp shapes up. I’ll have to see him. I’m going to my study. Get the servants to find him and send him to me at once.”

The incident had curbed the festive spirit. Everyone was a little subdued and I noticed that there was a certain defiance about Jonathan after his session with my father.

My mother had the full story from my father and she told it to me.

“Farmer Weston caught the pair of them in one of his barns. He was astounded. You know what a godfearing man he is … regular at church every day … and all the little Westons likewise. To find young Lizzie … flagrante delicto with Jonathan shocked him deeply. Well, I suppose it would most parents. Of course, your father understands … and isn’t as hard on them as some would be. What annoys him is that it is Weston’s daughter and on the estate. He was talking about bringing Jonathan over here to learn estate management… but I am not sure now. It’s a pity there aren’t more boys in the family.”

“Why do they imagine a woman can’t run an estate?”

“Largely because they can’t.”

“David is excellent. How lucky there were two of them.”

“Dickon is always lucky. This will sort itself out. We shouldn’t pay too much attention to this prank.”

“Prank, you call it? Lizzie Weston loses her virtue and that is a prank?”

“That’s what your father called it. He was thinking of Jonathan.”

“Well, I can understand Farmer Weston’s concern.”

“So does your father. He says that if there are results it will be taken care of.”

“Well, that doesn’t really satisfy Farmer Weston.”

“Hardly. But at least it helps. I wouldn’t care to be in Lizzie’s shoes for the next few weeks.”

“And Jonathan will be let off with a caution. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“When was the world ever fair for women?”

“You seem to have made quite a success of things.”

“So will you, my love,” she answered.

“Perhaps,” I said, thinking of Peter Lansdon.

January came in with a cold wind blowing from the south east. Winter was with us. The trees stretched out their bare branches making a delicate lacy pattern against the grey skies; they seemed as beautiful as they ever did in the spring. People speculated as to whether there would be snow. The Pettigrews had left.

“Glad to be rid of them,” mumbled my father. “Let Jonathan make trouble in their patch if he must and leave mine alone.”

Peter had gone to London for a brief spell. He was not thinking of leaving Enderby yet, although his search for property was not proving very fruitful. But he had interests in London to attend to. He said he would soon be back.

Edward Barrington had gone back to Nottingham and Mrs. Barrington had caught a chill and had taken to her bed.

“You should go over to see her,” said my mother. “She is especially fond of you.”

So I went. I sat by her bed in the cosy room where a fire was burning in the grate.

“So good of you to come, Jessica. You’ve cheered me up a lot.”

“How did you get this chill?” I asked.

“Run down I think. I worry a lot. I do wish Edward wasn’t in the thick of all that in Nottingham.”

“These people are becoming a real menace,” I said.

“It’s spreading, I’m afraid. It’s a deadlock. Edward said that if they don’t have the machines they can’t compete with foreigners … and if they can’t make profits the men will lose their jobs anyway.”

“They can’t see that, of course.”

“They’re shortsighted, Edward says. I am glad his father has semi-retired. I do wish Edward could stay here for a while until it settles down.”

“It is his business. He feels he must be there.”

“Oh yes … but it worries me.”

“It’s a worry for us all.”

She reached out and took my hand. “I wish … He’s such a good young man.”

“Yes,” I said, “he is.”

“There are very few like him, you know. He has always been so reliable. How I should love to see him settled.”

Clare Carson came into the room. “I came to see if you wanted any more coal on the fire.”

“I think it is all right, thank you, dear. I was talking to Jessica about those terrible riots.”

“You mustn’t fret,” said Clare. “Edward knows how to take care of it.”

“Oh, I know. But I do hate to think of it. I wish …”

“It can’t last,” I said. “I hear they are imposing more and more heavy sentences on those who create the disturbances.”

“Sometimes that makes people more angry,” said Mrs. Barrington. “Clare, do you think you could go and ask them to bring us some tea?”

Clare went out and left us.

“The fire will get rather fierce,” I said. “Would you like me to put up the screen?”

She sighed. She would have liked to talk about marriage and she knew it was a subject which I wanted to avoid.

The tea came eventually. Clare took it with us and the talk was general—about the Christmas festivities, the weather and the prospects for the year.

On my way home I met Amaryllis with Peter. I was surprised. I had not known that he was back.

“I only arrived this morning,” he said. “I called at Eversleigh this afternoon and learned you were out. Amaryllis and I decided to take a ride.”

“We were just going back,” said Amaryllis.

“So was I.”

We all went back together.

During the next few days I noticed a change in Peter. He seemed preoccupied. I did not see him alone. I felt something must have happened while he was in London and I wondered whether some proposition had come up which meant that he was no longer interested in an estate near us.

Three days after his return he asked us over to Enderby to dine. The memory of that evening stayed with me for a long time. I don’t think I had ever been more shocked in the whole of my life.

Amaryllis had been absent the whole of the afternoon. She had returned to Eversleigh to change for dinner and we had all gone together in the carriage.

Peter greeted us warmly and said how glad he was to be back, and very soon we were seated at the table. He talked about his visit to London, how glad he was to be back and what a pleasure it was to see us round his table. It was all very conventionally convivial.

Then came the blow.

He said: “I think it is time we let you into the secret. I do hope you will all share our joy. We are going to be married.”

I stared at him. He had not asked me. Surely … I could not believe this was real. I must be dreaming.

He was smiling across the table at Amaryllis, who was blushing and looking extremely pretty.

“Yes,” he said, “Amaryllis has promised to be my wife.” He was looking at David and Claudine now. “My gratitude to Amaryllis’ parents who have told me they are willing to accept me as their son-in-law. And I am hoping we shall have the approval of the rest of the family.”

“Well, Amaryllis,” cried my mother, “this is a surprise!”

I knew that she had thought I was the one in whom he was especially interested.

“As soon as we saw each other… we knew,” Peter was saying.

Then everyone seemed to be speaking at once. Someone was talking of toasts. I felt myself behaving mechanically. There was a great lump in my throat. One thought was uppermost in my mind. No one must know.

I could not believe this was happening. I was so unsure of my feeling. I was not exactly in love with him. I had enjoyed his attentions. I had thought he was very seriously regarding our future. I was too shocked, too bewildered, to think clearly.