"What about those cousins?" asked Violet. "They'll be out of their minds with worry." "With relief," said Teresa.
"And you just left a note," I said.
Teresa nodded.
"I'll write to them immediately explaining that you arrived safely and I'll ask their permission to let you stay for the rest of the holiday," I said.
"I shan't go back if they say No," said Teresa firmly. "I couldn't bear to think of you all eating hot cross buns without me." She turned to Violet. "How did they come out this year?"
"Not as good as last," said Violet predictably. "Some of them lost their crosses in the baking."
Teresa looked mournful and Violet went on. "We could make another batch. There's no law I know of that says you can only eat them on Good Friday."
"Oh, let's do it," said Teresa.
She was back. It was wonderful and we were all delighted.
In due course I received a letter from the cousins thanking me for my interest in Teresa. They knew how she had enjoyed the holidays spent at my home, but their great concern was not to impose, and if I found I had had enough of Teresa I was to send her back to them at once. I had asked their permission for her to spend the summer holiday with us and it was graciously-and I felt eagerly given.
When I showed the letter to Teresa she was overcome with joy.
We went into the village where she was warmly greeted by almost everyone and reproached by some for missing the Easter services.
She was pink with pleasure.
So it was a happy holiday after all. But soon it was time for us to return to school-and that was the end of the peaceful days.
The Ruby Earring
THE moment I stepped off the train I was aware of him. Emmet was there to take us back to the school but as we came into the station yard, I saw the Verringer carriage with him beside it.
He came forward, hat in hand.
"Miss Grant, what a pleasure to see you. It has been so long."
I was taken aback, not expecting to see him so soon, but I confess I had been wondering whether he would have returned by the time we got back to school.
"So ... you have come back," I said, and thought how foolish such a statement of the obvious must seem to him, and it would of course expose my embarrassment.
"I have my carriage here," he said. "Give me the pleasure of taking you back to the Academy."
"That is kind of you," I replied. "But Emmet has the school carriage here to take us."
"It is something of an old rattler, isn't it? You'll be more comfortable in mine."
"We'll be quite all right with Emmet, thank you." "I shall not allow it. Emmet, you can take the baggage and perhaps Miss er ..."
He was looking at Teresa who returned his gaze defiantly.
"I was going to say perhaps you would do me the honour of riding in my carriage," he went on with a faint hint of mockery.
"I shall ride with Miss Grant," said Teresa. "That's an excellent idea. Emmet, I'm taking both the ladies."
"Very good, Sir Jason," said Emmet.
I felt angry but it would have looked ridiculous to make a fuss, like making an issue about something which was not really very important. But I had a feeling that everything which brought me into touch with him was important. I felt furious with myself for not refusing in a way which would have been polite and coolly conventional and at the same time conveying to him that I had no wish to be under an obligation to him.
"This is pleasant," he said. "You can both sit beside me. There's plenty of room, and it's the best way to enjoy the scenery. I shall enjoy showing you how my bays perform. I am really rather proud of them."
And there we were seated beside him, turning out of the station yard into the lanes.
I said: "I trust you had a pleasant tour."
"Well, one gets a Little tired of being away from home. Homesick, I suppose. One broods on what one has left behind. Did you and Miss er-"
"Hurst," I said.
"Miss Teresa, yes, I remember. Did you enjoy your holiday?"
"Very much, didn't we, Teresa?"
"The last bit," answered Teresa.
"Oh ... not until the end?"
Teresa said: "The last bit was with Miss Grant, the first with my cousins. That was the bit I didn't like at all."
"I can understand how enjoyable it must have been to be with Miss Grant. I envy you."
I looked straight ahead. "It is to be hoped we don't meet another carriage in this lane," I said. "Ah, memories return. If we do ..."
"You will insist on their going back."
"But of course. I hope I shall see something of you this term. I heard from Miss Hetherington that there is going to be a midsummer pageant. They might involve us at the Hall as well as the school, as it is concerned with the Abbey."
Us? I thought. Who is Us? Does he mean himself and Marcia Martindale. Is she Lady Verringer by now?
"I remember the last one but one. That was some years ago. It was commemorating something. We have some costumes tucked away somewhere. We had actors down last time and they left the things behind. Monks' robes. I must tell Miss Hetherington about them."
"That will be interesting," I said coolly.
We had come through the narrow lane.
"Safe," he said, looking at me sideways. "You are relieved that I shall not embarrass you with a show of arrogance and selfishness."
He pulled up suddenly.
"Just so that you can admire it for a few moments," he said. "Looks grand, doesn't it? It must have looked very much like that six hundred years ago. You'd never guess from here, would you, that it is a ruin?"
"I can see the school," said Teresa.
"No ruin, thank heaven. I don't know what we should do without our good Miss Hetherington, her pupils and her wonderful mistresses."
"I should not have thought they made a great deal of difference to you at the Hall."
"Oh they do. They add a spice to life. And think how useful to my wards. Where else would they get such an excellent education? Where else would they get that whiff of culture. It would mean sending them to an establishment abroad. How much more convenient for them to be a short ride away from home."
"Miss Hetherington would be gratified by your comments."
"I have made them to her time and time again." He glanced at me. "But I have never felt this so strongly until lately."
"I daresay those sentimental thoughts came while you were away. It is said that absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"Absence did make mine, I'll admit."
"Shall we go? Miss Hetherington will wonder what has happened when she sees Emmet returning without us."
"Do you think he is already there?"
"He has taken the short cut," said Teresa. "You took the long way round, Sir Jason."
We went on and in a short time arrived at the school.
Miss Hetherington came out to meet us. She did look a little disturbed.
"Oh, there you are, Miss Grant. I wondered. And Teresa ..."
"I was at the station," said Jason Verringer. "I saw the ladies and thought it would be discourteous of me not to offer them a lift. Now that I have safely delivered them I'll say au revoir. By the way, Miss Hetherington, we have some monks' costumes up at the Hall. Residue of the last affair. I'll get someone to look through them or perhaps one of your people could do that. You might fend them useful."
"Thank you. I shall most certainly take advantage of your kind offer, Sir Jason. Are you sure you won't come in?"
"Not now, but I will call later. Good day to you, ladies."
With a gallant gesture he swept off his hat and then his horses were trotting away.
"Teresa," said Miss Hetherington, "you'd better get to your room. I suppose you met Miss Grant at the station?"
Teresa was silent and I said quickly: "I'll explain. You go along Teresa."