She greeted me with pleasure and said how upset she was because we were leaving. "The place won't be the same without the school," she said. "It's been here so long. Mind you, when we heard it was to be a school ... that was years ago ... there was some of us that wasn't too pleased. But then Miss Grant ... she was a great favourite ... and all the girls. It did you good to see them coming into the town. I tell you it won't be the same."
"We shall miss you all," I said.
"Times change, I always say. Nothing stands still for long."
"Not many people in the town just now," I said. "No. Well, who'd be here at this time of the year?"
"You'd notice strangers, wouldn't you?"
I looked at her expectantly. Miss Stoker had the reputation of knowing everything that went on in the town.
"The Misses Brewer are at the Feathers again. They were here last year. They like to break the journey on the way to visit their cousins where they go for Christmas every year. They know they can trust the Feathers. And they're glad of them there. Not much custom about in winter. Tom Carew was saying to me that there's a tidy trade for spring, summer and autumn but the winter it's as dead as a doornail."
"And so the Misses Brewer are the only guests just now."
"Yes. .. and lucky to have them."
That was double confirmation. If anyone else was staying there, Miss Stoker would know.
All the same, when I escaped from her I went into the Three Feathers and wished the Carews the compliments of the season. They made me welcome and insisted that I drink a glass of cider.
"We were struck all of a heap when we heard Miss Grant had sold the Manor," said Mrs. Carew. "Real shock, wasn't it, Tom?"
Tom said: "My word, yes. All shook up and no mistake."
"It had to be," I replied and they sighed.
I asked how business was.
"Stumbling on," said Tom. "We've got two guests ... the Misses Brewer. They've been here before."
"Yes, I heard from Miss Stoker. And they are the only two?"
"Yes, the only two."
I couldn't be more sure than that.
"Your Jim seemed to think we might have a friend of yours ..."
"We just thought he might be coming here. A Mr. Compton."
"Perhaps he'll come later on. We could give him a really nice room if he was to."
I came out of the Three Feathers very disconsolate. I wandered through the town and then I remembered the Nag's Head. It was scarcely an hotel, rather a small inn, but they did have a room or two which they let now and then.
I went into the Nag's Head and saw Joe Brackett whom I knew slightly. He welcomed me and said how sorry he was that I was leaving. I came straight to the point and asked him if a Mr. Compton had taken a room with him.
He shook his head. "Not here, Miss Grant. Perhaps at the Feathers ..."
"No," I said, "he didn't stay there either."
"Are you sure he's staying in this town? I can't think where else he could be unless it's Mrs. Shovell's. She lets a room now and then ... just bed and breakfast. But she's laid up this last week ... one of her turns."
I said goodbye and made my way back to the Manor. Perhaps there would be a message, I thought.
But there was no message.
In the afternoon I helped the girls decorate the common room and late that afternoon Daisy Hetherington arrived.
I was definitely impressed by Daisy Hetherington. She was a spare angular woman, very tall. She must have been five feet ten inches in her stockinged feet. I myself was tall but I felt almost dwarfed beside her. She had very clear ice-blue eyes and white hair, elegantly dressed. Her pallor and classic features gave her a look of having been carved out of stone. There was something stony about her, but there was an air of nobility. She would be a model headmistress, I knew at once, because she would inspire immediate awe and a great deal of respect. She would demand the best and those about her would give it because they knew she would accept nothing less. She would give perfection and want it in return.
The only thing which did not fit was her name. Daisy suggested a modest little flower hidden among the grass. She should have had a queenly name: Elizabeth, Alexandra, Eleanor or Victoria.
No one could have been less like Aunt Patty, who seemed to become more rotund, more easy-going, and more frivolously lovable in her presence.
Aunt Patty had sent one of the maids to my room to tell me that Miss Hetherington had arrived and they were in the sitting room before going in to dinner. Would I join them there?
I went down. I remember I was wearing a blue velvet dress with a white jabot at the neck. I had dressed my thick straight chestnut-tinged hair high on my head to give me further height and, I hoped, dignity. I felt that, in the presence of Miss Hetherington, I should need all the self-esteem I could muster. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was not by any means good-looking. My light brown eyes were a little too far apart; my mouth too wide; my forehead too high to be fashionable; my nose, as Monique used to say, was "enquiring", which meant it had a slight tilt at the tip which added a touch of humour to an otherwise rather serious face. I had wondered why Edward Compton had appeared to be more interested in me when Monique was very pretty and Lydia quite attractive. Frieda was a little severe but she had a directness which was appealing. I shared the freshness of youth but I certainly was not the most attractive of the four. It seemed odd that Edward Compton should have selected me. Unless, of course, our meetings had been by chance. The one in the forest was and so was the one on the boat, but he had taken the trouble to come to Canterton and that must have been to see me. Then why had he made the arrangement to come to tea and then failed to do so?
There was only one explanation. We had met in the forest and he had forgotten all about me until he saw me on the boat. He was passing through and had stopped off at Canterton. Then he remembered I lived there. We met by chance and perhaps I had forced him to accept the invitation, by making it so that it would be impolite to refuse. In any case he had thought better of coming and had slipped quietly away.
I must stop thinking of him. It was far more important to make a good impression on Daisy Hetherington.
I went down.
Aunt Patty was looking delighted. She sprang up and coming to me put her arm through mine.
"Here's Cordelia. Daisy, this is my niece, Cordelia Grant. Cordelia, Miss Hetherington, who owns one of the finest scholastic establishments in the country."
She took my hand in hers, which was surprisingly warm. I had expected it to be cold ... as stone. "I am delighted to meet you," I said.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she replied. "Your aunt has been telling me so much about you."
"Come and sit down," said Aunt Patty. "Dinner will be served in about ten minutes. Isn't it fun to have Miss Hetherington with us!"
She was smiling at me, almost winking. Fun seemed a strange word to use in connection with Miss Hetherington-except that, with Aunt Patty, all life fitted into that category.
I sat down, very much aware of the piercing blue eyes on me searchingly and I felt every detail of my appearance was being noted and that everything said would be weighed up and used in evidence for or against me.
"As you know, Cordelia has just returned from Schaffenbrucken," said Aunt Patty.
"Yes, so I understand."
"Two years she was there. Few people stay longer."
"Two or three years is the usual span," said Daisy. "It must have been a most exhilarating experience." I said that it was.
"You must tell Miss Hetherington about it," said Aunt Patty.
She was sitting in her chair smiling and nodding. Her pride in me was a little embarrassing, and I felt I must do my best to deserve it.