When they were taking their departure my father said, "This has been a pleasant evening. I rarely meet people who are interested in my hobbies. Do please come again."
"You must dine at Framling," said Fabian.
"Thank you," I said, "but my father should not be out in the evening." I was looking at Dougal. "It is better for you to come here."
"That I shall certainly do ... when I am asked."
"I hope you will be here for a little while yet," said my father.
"I think so," answered Fabian. "I doubt we shall be leaving the country until the end of next year."
"Next week ... it is next week, is it not, my dear? ... Drusilla is going to London."
"Oh?" said Fabian, his gaze on me.
"It is to stay with her old nurse," explained my father. "You know how strong these ties are."
"Yes," said Fabian. "Then perhaps we may come when Miss Drusilla returns."
"There is no reason why you should not come when I am away," I said. "Mrs. Janson will take care of things, and my father would enjoy your company."
"I shall invite you," said my father.
Then they took their leave.
My father said what a delightful evening it had been and
Colin Brady agreed with him. Mrs. Janson was not displeased.
Her verdict was that the Framlings were just like anybody else - and she wasn't afraid of him. As for the other one, he was a perfect gent and no one could take objection to him.
I felt I had come through the evening tolerably well, although I had had certain qualms when they began to talk about Lindenstein.
I was growing excited about my coming visit to London. The prospect of seeing Polly again always filled me with joy, and now there was the baby as well as Eff. I went down to the town, which was about a mile out of the village. I had a pleasant morning shopping and bought a little jacket and bonnet and a pair of bootees for Fleur and a pair of bellows for Polly and Eff, because I could see they had had some difficulty in getting the kitchen fire to draw up.
As I was coming out of the shop a carriage drove by. I knew it was from Framling, because I had seen Fabian driving it around. It was drawn by two spirited grey horses and he liked to go at great speed.
I saw Fabian in the driver's seat and to my surprise he pulled up.
"Miss Delany."
"Oh ... hello," I said.
"You have been shopping, I see."
"Oh yes."
"I'll drive you back."
"Oh, that is not necessary."
"Of course I'll take you back."
He had leaped down from the seat and taken from me the bag that contained my purchases. As he did so the contents fell out, and there on the pavement were the bellows, the baby's jacket, the bonnet and the bootees.
"Oh dear," he said, stooping to pick them up. "I hope no harm is done."
I flushed hotly. He stood there with the bootees in his hand.
"Very pretty," he commented, "and they are all safe."
"Really," I stammered, "there's no need to take me home."
"But I insist. I like to show off my horses, you know. They really are a superb pair. You can sit beside me. Then you can see the road better. You'll enjoy it."
He carefully put my purchases in the carriage and helped me up.
"Now," he said. "Off we go. I shall not take you directly home."
"Oh, but ..."
"Again I insist. You'll be home just as soon as you would if you had walked. And you will have the pleasure of seeing Castor and Pollux in action."
"The heavenly twins ..." I murmured.
"They are as like each other as twins only to look at. Pollux has a bit of a temper and Castor is inclined to be lazy. But they know the master's touch."
The horses broke into a gallop and he laughed as we gathered speed.
"Just cling to me if you're scared," he said.
"Thanks," I replied. "But I'm not."
"And thank you for the compliment. It is well deserved in fact. I know how to manage my horses. By the way, I haven't seen you riding lately."
"Not since I returned."
"Why not?"
"We don't have a stable at the rectory."
"But you used to ride regularly."
"That was when Lavinia was at home."
"My dear Miss Delany, you don't have to ask permission to use a horse from the Framling stables. I thought you understood that."
"It was different when Lavinia was here. I rode with her."
"There is no difference at all. Please, whenever you wish, ride the horse you have always had."
"Thank you. That is very good of you."
"Oh no. After all, you are a great friend of my sister. Do you envy her, preening in London?"
"I don't think I should greatly care for the process."
"No, I dare say not. But please ride when you want to."
"You are very kind."
He gave me a sideways, rather sardonic smile.
"Tell me about Lamason," he said.
"Oh, it is supposed to be a very fine school."
"Where they turn hoydens into young ladies."
"I think that is the idea."
"And do you think they have done a satisfactory job on you and Lavinia?"
"I cannot speak for Lavinia. You should ask her."
"But yourself?"
"That is for others to judge."
"Do you want to hear my judgement?"
"Not particularly. It could not be a true one because you scarcely know me."
"I feel I know you very well."
"I can't think why. I have so rarely seen you."
"There have been significant moments. Do you remember when you took the peacock fan?"
"On your orders, yes. Tell me, how is your Aunt Lucille?"
"She has grown very feeble. She is lost to this world and exists only in her own."
"Does she still have the Indian servants?"
"She does. They would never leave her, and she would be completely lost without them."
"I'm sorry," I said.
There was a brief silence; then he said, "You will be going to London soon."
The carriage lurched and I fell against him, clutching his coat.
He laughed. "All's well. I told you you were safe with me."
"I really think I should be home. I have a great deal to do."
"You have to prepare for your visit to London."
"Yes, that and other things."
"How long shall you stay?"
"Oh ... about a week."
"You are very fond of your old nurse."
"She is not really old. Polly is one of those people who never will be."
"Your loyalty does you credit."
"Is it so very creditable to express one's true feelings?"
"No, of course not. There. You see how docile I am. I'll have you at the rectory door in three minutes."
"Thank you."
He pulled up sharply at the grey stone house, leaped down and helped me out. He took my hands and smiled at me.
"I hope the gifts are acceptable."
"What gifts?"
"The bellows and the baby's clothes."
To my annoyance I flushed again.
I took the bag he handed me, said "Thank you," and went into the house.
I was disturbed. He had always disturbed me. It was a pity he had seen my purchases. I felt he had looked at them cryptically. I was wondering what he had thought.
My father asked if it were wise of me to travel to London alone.
"My dear Father," I replied, "what harm could befall me? I shall get on the train under the eyes of Mr. Hanson, the stationmaster, and Mr. Briggs, the porter. Polly will be waiting for me at the other end. I am grown up now, you know."
"Still ..." said my father.
"I shall be all right."
At last he agreed that I could come to no harm and I set out, with my case containing the gifts and the little bit of luggage I was taking with me.