She chattered all the way and then we tumbled out of the trap and went into the house.
It was the beginning of the ideal holiday for Teresa and for me, because her obvious happiness made everything doubly enjoyable. I was so proud of Aunt Patty who had the secret of spreading happiness about her; and how we used to laugh to see Violet looking over her spectacles and raising her eyes to Heaven and continually asking us to look what your Aunt Patty is up to now.
Violet was the perfect foil for Aunt Patty, always looking on the black side, constantly questioning Aunt Patty's wisdom, always appalled by her impetuosity but loving her as fiercely and devotedly as any of us.
Teresa had never been in such a household before. She was changing. Her timidity dropped from her. For what was there to be afraid of here? There was always so much to do and strangely enough she was with Violet more than any of us.
Her love of flowers and plants had quickly been noticed and, as Violet did the gardening, Teresa was soon helping her. They talked constantly of the kitchen garden and the flower beds, while Aunt Patty and I silently looked on and, when Violet said the wasps would get most of the plums and a plague of greenfly was making short work of the finest roses, even Teresa laughed at Violet's pessimism with the rest of us.
Teresa would go with Violet to cut the vegetables we would have that day and she and Violet would talk of planting and pruning as though Teresa were going to be with us for ever.
Aunt Patty had very quickly become well-known throughout the village and was deeply involved in all its activities. It was what she had always wanted and had never had time for at Grantley. Her new role became her. She was a born organizer and was to have a big part in the summer fête which would take place during these holidays. Everyone was drawn in. Violet and Teresa were to have the flower stall. I had the white elephant with Aunt Patty and the preparations for that event went on for days.
I was amazed to see Teresa's enthusiasm.
There was in the village a retired Major who ran a riding-stable and I think that because she wanted to show her gratitude to me, I was able to prevail on Teresa to mount a horse again. I had explained to the Major what had happened and he produced a mare whom he called Snowdrop, explaining that she was rather long in the tooth and had a mouth like leather on account of being pulled on so hard. "I get all my beginners started on Snowdrop," he said. "She can be as stubborn as a mule but she is safe as houses."
So I took Teresa out on Snowdrop and, after the first morning, she was ready to ride again. I looked on that as a great achievement.
The weeks flew past - long days of sunshine for it was a good summer, and when it rained there was always something to do in the house. I had wondered how we were going to entertain Teresa at such times but I need have had no qualms about that. She was off with Violet to the potting shed and in the evenings they would pore over seed catalogues together.
"I always wanted a piece of garden of my own," said Teresa.
"That's easily arranged," said Aunt Patty. "Surely there's somewhere in this big garden."
Violet considered seriously and said: "What about that bit by the rockery. We've never got round to doing much with that. Yes, that's it. What could you plant there?"
She and Teresa went into a deep discussion before Teresa cried out in dismay: "But I'm only here for the holiday."
Violet looked disconsolate but Aunt Patty was ready for the occasion. "Why bless you, my dear, that'll be your bit of land for as long as you want it. I hope you're not going to tell us you don't want to come again."
Teresa was so moved she almost sobbed: "Oh, I do. I do. I can't bear it if I don't."
"Well, that's settled," said Aunt Patty. "What do call this garden? Teresa's Treat. Teresa's Treasure."
"Teresa's Tribulation by the look of that soil," said Violet. "There's a lot of alkali in it."
And we all laughed and started to plan Teresa's garden. I knew Teresa well and I guessed she was not so much thinking of her garden but that she was coming again.
Aunt Patty had naturally been interested in the school and during the first days of the holiday she talked a good deal about it. This was while Teresa was with Violet in the garden because there must be some things which I could not talk of before one of the pupils.
Aunt Patty listened avidly. She wanted to know how Daisy Hetherington ran her school. She had a great admiration for her and was in no way envious because Daisy had succeeded where she herself had failed. In fact Aunt Patty did not think she had failed.
"I like it here, Cordelia," she said. "This is what always wanted. I sold out at the right time. I've enough to be comfortable on ... without great luxury of course ... but what is luxury compared to comfort? We're very happy here, happier even than we were at Grantley. There were silly niggling cries there. Parents can be difficult, some of them, and my goodness, pupils can be too."
I told her about the rebellious Hon. Charlotte and her frenchmaid Eugenie Verringer: "The niece of the man who owns the Hall, and the school too, and much of the neighbourhood. He has two nieces, Fiona and Eugenie, and they are both at the school. Eugenie is the difficult one."
She wanted to hear about Teresa's accident and I told her without mentioning the tête-à-tête dinner with Sir Jason. I did not want to talk about that any more than I did about that other adventure.
Aunt Patty said: "Did you ever hear from those girls who were with you at Schaffenbrucken. You used to talk about them so much at one time. The ones who were your particular cronies, I mean."
"No. We said we'd write but we didn't. You mean to .. and then something happens and you forget. The days pass and all that seems so remote now."
She had aroused memories. I was thinking of us all lying there on the grass of the forest, lying back supporting our heads on our arms … when he had appeared.
"Someone has to be the one to write," said Aunt Patty. "Do you have their addresses?"
"Yes, we all exchanged addresses."
"What were their names. I am trying to remember. There was a German girl, a French girl and an English one."
"That's right. Lydia Markham was the English one. Then there was Monique Delorme and Frieda Schmidt. I wonder what they are doing now."
"Write to them. Perhaps you'll find out."
"I will. I'll write today."
And I did.
The days passed with incredible speed. They were so full. We went for a picnic, taking the trap with us and rattling along the lanes. Violet packed a hamper and grumbled about the rattling of the trap which would turn the milk, she said, and when she was proved right, that was a great joke.
We sat in the middle of a field, boiled a kettle and drank milkless tea and were tormented by flies, alarmed by wasps and played guessing games.
"That's picnics for you," said Violet when we found ants swarming over the sponge cake.
And it was such a happy day.
Drowsy with sun we rattled home again and stretched ourselves in the garden and talked of picnics we had known. Aunt Patty had some hilarious stories to tell while Violet was characteristically lugubrious and I marvelled to watch Teresa, intent one moment, listening avidly and rolling about in uncontrollable mirth the next.