"Once won't hurt them," said Sir Jason.
"No, I suppose not. Is everything in order, Miss Grant?"
"I think so. At the rehearsal yesterday there were one or two hitches."
"Always the case in the most professional shows," said Jason. "A smooth dress rehearsal is said to be a bad first night."
Daisy gave a little laugh. "This is hardly to be compared with professional shows, Sir Jason. But I do hope we shall amuse your guests and it will be an unusual way for them to pass an evening."
"They will thoroughly enjoy it."
"And tomorrow you have your pianist from London."
"Yes, Serge Polenski is going to perform for us, and I hope you and ail your mistresses will join us. There will be a buffet supper after ... and dancing."
"I know they will most joyfully accept your invitation. One or two will have to stay behind, of course, because of the girls. I remember these occasions in the old days. There was usually some famous musician brought down to entertain the company."
"A tradition from the days when we had the fiddlers playing in the minstrels' gallery."
"Yes. The Verringers were always patrons of music."
"We did our best, though we never succeeded in producing a genius ourselves."
"Fiona sings very nicely and Eugenie has quite a talent for drawing. Miss Eccles says she is very good. Come into my study, Sir Jason, and we can discuss the seating there. Miss Barston was saying she wanted to see you, Miss Grant. Some muddle about the monks' robes. Something is missing I think."
It was dismissal so I said: "I'll go to see her at once."
Jason gave me a rueful look and I went away leaving them together.
I found Miss Barston quite distressed.
"One of the monks' robes is missing."
"It must be somewhere."
"Well, I've searched. I've questioned the girls. Nobody knows anything about it."
"You had twelve, didn't you?"
"I did and now there are only eleven. You court them."
She was right. There were only eleven.
"I don't know what we're going to do. There'll only be eleven monks. At this late hour ..."
"It must be somewhere," I said. "It can't just disappear."
"But it has, Miss Grant. I cannot understand it."
"Do you think someone's playing a trick?"
"A trick! At this late hour. If I cannot find that costume there'll only be eleven monks."
"That won't make much difference."
"It means one of the girls will have to stand down. Which one? Of course, Janet Mills hasn't much of a voice ... I only put her in because she is tall and the costumes are man-size."
"We'd better see if we can fend that robe."
"Miss Grant, if you can think of anywhere to look, please tell me. I've done everything."
"If we can't fend it, there'll just have to be eleven. We have to accept that."
"Oh dear, it's so frustrating."
"I daresay it will turn up during the day."
I left Miss Barston to her frustration and went on with my duties.
Later that day Daisy summoned me to her study to discuss more arrangements.
"It's about this evening at the Hall. Fiona and Eugenie can select the friends they want to take. Miss Barston and Miss Parker will stay here and remain on duty. They don't care for socializing in any case. Cordelia, there are still unpleasant rumours. It is most unfortunate about this disappearing lady. I know there is no need to tell you to take special care with Sir Jason."
"I understand."
"It is a pity that he has this reputation. A good solid older squire would be so much better for the school. You don't seem to be quite so friendly with him now. I am pleased about that. I must say I did have some misgivings and then there was that matter of your breaking the window."
"I'm sorry, Miss Hetherington."
She waved her hand. She did not want to hear any revelations which might be unpleasant. All she wanted was for everything to run smoothly and in the best possible manner for the school.
"I promise you, Miss Hetherington, that nothing shall happen to give you concern-if I can help it," I added.
We were lucky. The weather stayed perfect. Everything seemed to go smoothly, and that which would have been an ordinary amateur performance, by moonlight among the ruins had a special magic.
The girls' voices sounded young and innocently beautiful in the night air; they evoked the scene of the building, the rise of the Abbey and the rumblings of disaster; the King's break with Rome, his need for money, the tempting riches of the abbeys and then the Dissolution.
I looked round at the audience. An impressive one. The ladies from the Hall in their shimmering evening gowns, the men's black and white dignity, and Jason in their midst, more distinguished looking than any, I thought; and our own mistresses in their gowns made for the occasion might seem less glorious than those of the Hall, but charming none the less; and in the centre of the front row-Jason on her right and Lady Sowerby on her left (Lady Sowerby had two girls who were coming up to the age when the Academy would be the best place for them) sat Daisy herself in a gown of pale grey satin with gold chains about her neck and a little pearl watch pinned to her bosom, looking magnificent and in complete control.
Seated cross-legged on the grass were the younger girls, for there had not been enough chairs to accommodate all the people and in any case they could see better and were young enough not to mind the discomfort. I was touched to see their wondering faces as they listened to the account of the monastery's beginnings and I saw how they caught their breath when the monks came walking from the ruined nave.
As I watched them slowly wending their way through the ruins, I remembered suddenly the drama of the lost robe and I counted them. Twelve. So Miss Barston must have found it.
This was indeed an impressive scene. It was so realistic. It was as though the past had really come to life. One forgot these were ruins. The Abbey was alive again and these were its inhabitants on the way to compline. Even the most blasé of Jason's guests were affected and the applause after the first act was genuine.
Then there was the Elizabethan scene with Mr. Crowe playing a lute and the girls dancing Tudor dances and singing madrigals. We had the voices explaining how this was the age of revival. The Manor House had been built and some of the Stones from the Abbey had been used in its construction. So the Hall and Abbey were united as they had been through the ages, and as tonight clearly showed.
There was more applause.
And then came the final scene. The reconstruction of the Lay Brothers' Frater and Dorter, the founding of the Academy. Then we had the dancing-Sir Roger de Coverley and Jenny Pluck Pears - in which all the girls who had not taken the part of monks or Elizabethan courtiers could perform. Finally there was the school song .. .
During the Sir Roger I had noticed Janet Mills seated on the grass. I stared at her. But the monks were still in their robes, waiting to come in at the end and take their bow. I had counted twelve. I must have been mistaken. No one else would have taken Janet's place at such short notice. She was only being left out because there was no costume for her. I must have made a mistake. There could only have been eleven.
The school song had ended. The applause rang out and all the performers came out to take their bows. First the Elizabethans-eight of them; and then the monks came out from the nave chanting as they had during the performance. They came and stood on the grass facing us. I counted them. Eleven. How strange! I had counted twelve when they were performing. It must have been an illusion.
There was no doubt of the success of the evening. Wine was served with light refreshments and the guests walked about the ruins mingling with the monks and the Elizabethans, all flushed and excited with their recent success, declaring to each other that there had never been such an evening.