“Please understand that I want to go at once and that I will have no more of this kind of behaviour.”

“Oh, she is haughty, is she? Whom do you imagine you are? French scum … that’s what you are. And because I want to be kind to you … show you what a gentleman can do for you … you give yourself airs.”

“The trouble is that you are not a gentleman.”

He gripped my arm roughly. “Listen to me, my girl. All I want from you is a bit of fun. That’s what girls like you are meant for. You’ve no right in this house. Your grandmother may work for us but that does not mean that you can play the haughty lady … not unless you earn the right. Come on, Lenore, I’m lolling you I like you. Give me a kiss. There’s a lot I can show you.”

I was in a panic. I was alone with him in this dark cubbyhole. I brought up my hand sharply and hit him in the face. I had taken him by surprise and I heard his gasp of astonishment as he released me. I lost no time in slipping past him. I dashed out into the corridor. I did not stop running for I felt he might come after me. I sped up to my bedroom. I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror. My face was flushed and my hair in disorder. I washed in cold water and was relieved to see that the red marks on my arms were beginning to disappear. I combed my hair with shaking fingers; but already I was feeling calmer.

Perhaps he had drunk too much claret cup. I could not believe that he really liked me. He felt towards me as he did towards the maids who tittered when he glanced their way and looked secretive as though there was some special understanding between them. He wished to treat me as he treated them.

I was very frightened but I must return to the ballroom for I should be missed. The party was not so large that absentees could fail to be noticed for long. I went down and slipped into the ballroom. No one looked at me in surprise. The Barkers were still alone. I went over to them.

“Did you enjoy your dance?” asked Mrs. Barker.

I smiled vaguely and asked if they would like to go in to supper.

As I conducted them to the dining room, I saw Charles. He was talking to Amelia Barrington, one of the daughters of our nearest neighbours. He looked right through me as though he did not see me.

“A fine room,” Mr. Barker was saying. “There’s a sign of damp up there. That wants looking into.”

Philip joined us with Cassie. Cassie looked a little tired. She would be glad when this was over. It must be rather sad to sit and watch the dancing without joining in. Philip talked to Mr. Barker—or rather allowed him to talk and seemed quite interested in the building trade, or perhaps he was just being polite.

He told me afterwards that he had a lot of sympathy for those people who were dedicated to their work. It was exactly how he felt about silk.

I lived through the rest of the evening in a daze. I could not get that unpleasant encounter with Charles out of my mind.

When I finally retired Grand’mere came in to talk to me. She sat on the edge of my bed in her silk wrap which, because she had made it herself, was the essence of elegance.

“And what happened?” she asked. “Did you dance?”

“A little. Mr. Barker doesn’t dance and I had to look after them.”

“Did you dance with Mr. Aldringham?”

“No … he was with Julia quite a lot.”

She looked disappointed.

“I danced with Philip just after supper, which I had with him and Cassie and the Barkers.”

Grand’mere did not look very pleased. She said: “You are tired. You must go to sleep.”

It was not so much that I wanted to sleep as to be alone to think over the evening, which meant that unpleasant encounter with Charles.

Grand’mere was disappointed. The young girl after her first ball should have been filled with excitement, bursting with the need to talk of the thrilling evening. And all I could do was think about those terrifying moments in the cubbyhole. It was not that I wanted to. I just could not help it.

When I saw Charles the next day he did not seem to be aware of me. I began to feel relieved. He had forgotten. It was the way in which he behaved to any female whom he considered beneath him. Perhaps I had been unduly perturbed. He had tried and failed and he must have been very angry because of that stinging blow I gave him. It would have been a physical hurt as well as an insult.

The following morning Julia was annoyed because Charles and Philip had taken Drake off somewhere and it seemed they would be away for the whole of the day.

In the afternoon I went for a ride with her and Cassie. She was talking all the time about the party.

“It was really quite enjoyable,” she said. “I can’t wait to be ‘out.’ Then it will be all parties like that. Drake will be in London. He’s bound to be asked to all the parties … or most of them … because of his father and his uncle. People are more respectful towards cabinet ministers than admirals.”

“One wouldn’t have thought so,” I said, “when you consider the way in which they are vilified by the press.”

“People take an interest in them because of that. There has to be a war for sailors to be made much of. I do hope Drake goes into politics. It will be most exciting.”

Cassie said thoughtfully: “Do you think you will be there to see the excitement?”

Julia blushed. “I … I always thought I’d like to lead that sort of life. You know, all the thrill of elections … and going to the House and meeting people like Lord Beaconsfield and Mr. Gladstone. Mary Anne Wyndham Lewis was afterwards Lord Beaconsfield’s wife. Everybody called her Mary Anne even when she became Lady Beaconsfield. It’s frightfully romantic, She had lots of money. That was really why he married her.”

“Very romantic,” I said sarcastically. “Would you agree, Cassie?”

“Well, often those suitable marriages turn out very well in the end,” said Julia. “Theirs did and she used to say that he might have married her for money, but after the years together he would marry her for love. Drake was most interesting about it. You would have loved it, Cassie … so would you, Lenore. But you had to look after those boring Barkers.”

“Philip and Cassie came along and helped out. It wasn’t so bad then.”

“Theirs is a happy marriage,” said Cassie. “Mrs. Barker thinks Mr. Barker is quite wonderful. It is rather charming to watch the way she listens to him, nodding her head all the time. I think if anyone said a word against him, or attempted to con-tradict him, she would be ready to slay them.”

“That sort of marriage where one partner is subservient to the other is bound to be a success,” I said. “I expect that is what every man is looking for.”

“I don’t think Drake would want that. He loves you to disagree with him. I’ve noticed that.”

“I hadn’t,” said Cassie.

“Dear Cass, you haven’t been with him like I have.” She preened herself. “He is so amusing. I loved the story of Lord Beaconsfield’s wife. I think he was plain Mr. Benjamin Disraeli then. She hurt her hand when she got into the carriage to drive with him to the House, where he was going to make an important speech. She did not tell him that she had crushed her hand in the carriage door when getting into it. The pain must have been terrible but she sat there smiling and chatting as though nothing was wrong because she feared he might be upset and that would spoil his speech. The pain must have been terrible.”

“What a lovely story,” said Cassie. “I like it very much, don’t you, Lenore?”

“Yes,” I replied. “But I was thinking that I would not want to be a shadow of my husband … like Mrs. Barker for in-stance. I should want to be myself. I might want to do something in life … quite apart from marriage.”

Julia said: “Oh, I wouldn’t want to be somebody else’s shadow. Politicians’ wives, though, have their place in society. Disraeli’s Mary Anne used to follow everything that went on in the House and she used to sit up and wait for him to come home and she always had a cold supper waiting for him no matter at what time he arrived; and then he would tell her all that had gone on in Parliament. And Mrs. Gladstone is very well known in society. She always makes sure that her husband’s material comforts are looked after. Drake says that in the home she is the one who gives the orders. So you see … it is a most exciting life.”

“Why are you suddenly so interested in the political scene?” asked Cassie.

Julia blushed a little. “I suppose it is because I’ve been talking to Drake.”

Cassie and I exchanged glances. It was clear to us that this was Julia in love. It was to be expected. She was past seventeen and Drake would be about four years older, so both of them could be considered marriageable.

As we neared the house we met Drake with Charles. They had obviously been for a ride.

“Hello,” said Drake. “Are you just returning?”

“We’ve been taking an afternoon’s ride,” explained Julia.

“The forest is beautiful,” said Drake. He smiled at us all in his friendly fashion. Julia was gazing at him. She was rather obvious, I thought, and wondered if I dared tell her that it would be better to hide her feelings a little.

“Going back to the house now?” asked Charles.

Julia said we were.

I did not speak. Charles had not addressed me. He behaved is though I were not there. I wondered if he was going to ignore me from then on. I did not mind if he did. In fact I should be rather pleased.

We rode towards the house. Drake was between Julia and me.

He said: “It was a most interesting evening.”

“It was, wasn’t it,” replied Julia.

“I saw you were very busily engaged,” he went on, turning to me.