She made it all sound like a new and exciting adventure on which we were embarking and I caught her enthusiasm.
In the afternoon when classes were in progress I went for a walk. I left about two o'clock intending to be back before it was dark, which would be soon after four. School would be breaking up in the next week or so and after that only one more term. There would be the bustle of departure; the mistresses would be arranging journeys for the girls, seeing them to trains, just as it had been at Schaffenbrucken. I supposed many of the teachers were anxious, wondering about their new posts and certain that they would not fend many employers as easy-going as Aunt Patty had been.
I detected an air of melancholy over the house. Both pupils and mistresses had appreciated the atmosphere of Grantley Manor.
Without Aunt Patty at my side to stress how wonderful everything was going to be, I too felt the depression. I tried to imagine what my future would be. I couldn't just live all my life in a country village even though Aunt Patty would be with me. Somehow I did not think Aunt Patty believed I could either. I had caught her almost speculative gaze on me, rather secretive as though she had something up her sleeve which she was going to produce to the wonderment of all who perceived it.
I always enjoyed my first walk after returning to Grantley. I usually went into the little town of Canterton, looked into the shops and stopped for a chat with the people I knew. It was always a pleasure. Today it seemed different. I did not feel the same urge to talk to people. I wondered how much they knew about Aunt Patty's move and I couldn't really talk about something of which I knew so little as yet.
I passed the woods and noticed that there were plenty of berries on the holly this year. The girls would be picking it very soon now, for the last week of term would be given over to Christmas jollity. They had already decorated the Christmas tree in the common room and put the presents they had bought for each other under it. Then there would be a concert and carol singing in the chapel. The last time ... What a sad phrase that was.
A pale winter sun momentarily showed itself between the clouds. There was a chill in the air but it was mildish for the time of year.
There were not many people about. I had not met anyone since I had left the Manor. I glanced towards the wood and wondered whether the girls would fend much mistletoe this year. They usually had to hunt for it, which made it seem precious, and made a great show of fixing it in those places where they could be caught and kissed-if there were any males about who might be tempted to do so.
I hesitated by the woods. Then as I was deciding that I would skirt them and go as far as the town without actually going in, I heard a footstep behind me. I felt a rush of emotion and told myself afterwards that I knew who it was going to be before I turned round.
"Why?" I cried. "You ... here?"
"Yes," he said with a smile. "You told me you lived in Canterton so I thought I would have a look at it."
"Are you ... staying here?"
"Briefly," he replied.
"On your way to ...?"
"Somewhere else. I thought I would call to see you while I was here, but before doing so I was hoping to meet you so that I could ask if it would be correct for me to call. I passed the Manor. It is a fine old place."
"You should have come in."
"First of all I wanted to find out whether your aunt would receive me."
"After all," he went on, "we have not been formally introduced."
"We have met four times, if you count the time on the train."
"Yes," he said slowly, "I feel we are old friends. Your welcome home was very warm I gather." "Aunt Patty is such a darling."
"She is clearly devoted to you."
"Yes."
"So it was the happiest of homecomings?" I hesitated.
"Not?" he asked.
I was silent for a few seconds and he looked at me with some concern. Then he said: "Shall we walk through the forest? I think it rather beautiful at this time of the year. The trees without their leaves are so beautiful, don't you think? Look at the pattern that one makes against the sky."
"Yes, I have always thought so. More beautiful in winter even than in summer. This is hardly what you call a forest. It's more of a wood ... just clumps of trees which don't extend for more than a quarter of a mile."
"Nevertheless let us walk among the beautiful trees and you can tell me why your homecoming was not as usual."
Still I hesitated and he looked at me with a slightly reproachful air. "You can trust me," he said. "I will keep your secrets. Come, tell me what worries you."
"It was all so different from what I expected. Aunt Patty had not given me a hint."
"No hint?"
"That everything was not ... as it should be. She ... she has sold Grantley Manor."
"Sold that beautiful house! What of the flourishing establishment?"
"Apparently it did not flourish. I was astounded. I suppose one takes these things for granted. There was no reason why I shouldn't. Aunt Patty had never as much as hinted that we were becoming poorer."
There seemed to be a sudden chill in the forest. He had stopped in his walk and looked at me tenderly. "My poor child," he said.
"Oh, it isn't so bad. We're not going to starve. Aunt Patty thinks it is all to the good. But then everything that happens seems to her all to the good."
"Tell me about it ... if you wish to."
"I don't know why I am talking to you like this ... except that you seem so interested. You just seem to appear, first in the forest, then on the ship and now ... You are rather mysterious, you know."
He laughed. "That makes it all the easier for you to talk to me."
"Yes, I suppose it does. I was going to avoid going into the town because I didn't want to talk to people there who have known us for years."
"Well, tell me instead."
So I told him that Aunt Patty had had to sell the Manor because it was too expensive to keep up, and that we were going to a small house in another part of the country.
"What shall you do?"
"I don't know ... We have this little house somewhere in the Midlands, I believe. I really haven't heard much about it yet. Aunt Patty makes it seem ... not so bad, but I can see that Violet-that's her very special friend who lives with us-is very disturbed."
"I can imagine so. What a terrible blow for you! My deepest sympathy. You seemed so merry when I saw you with your friends in the forest, and I fancied they were all a little envious of you."
We walked across the stunted grass and the wintry sun glinted through the bare branches of the trees. The smell of damp earth and foliage was in the air and I couldn't help feeling that something significant would happen because he was with me.
I said: "We have talked about me. Tell me about yourself."
"You won't find that very interesting."
"Oh, but I shall. You have such a way of... appearing. It is quite intriguing, really. The way you came upon us in the forest ..."
"I was taking a walk."
"It seemed so strange that you should be there, and then in the train and on the boat... and now here."
"I am here because I saw it was on my route and I thought I would drop in to see you."
"On your route to where?"
"To my home."
"So you live in England."
"I have a place in Switzerland. I suppose I would say my home is in England."
"And you are on your way to it now. Why, I don't even know your name."
"Was it never mentioned?"
"No. In the forest ..."
"I was just a passer-by then, wasn't I? It would not have been comme il faut to exchange cards."