laid aside the fur coat and hurried to Dinah. He had known Dinah all his life, but while he was at Oxford and later, when he did a course with a volunteer air-reserve unit, he had seen little of her. When he returned to Pen Cuckoo, Dinah had finished her dramatic course, and had managed to get into the tail end of a small repertory company where she remained for six weeks. The small repertory company then fell to pieces and Dinah returned home, an actress. Three weeks ago he had met her unexpectedly on the hills above Cloudyfold, and with that encounter came love. He had felt as if he saw her for the first time. The bewildered rapture of discovery was still upon him. To meet her gaze, to speak to her, to stand near her, launched him upon a flood of bliss. His sleep was tinged with the colour of his love and when he woke he found her already waiting in his thoughts. ‘She is my whole desire,’ he said to himself. And, because he was not quite certain that she loved him in return, he had been afraid to declare himself until yesterday, in the shabby, charming old drawing-room at the rectory, when Dinah had looked so transparently into his eyes that he began to speak of love. And then, through the open door, he had seen Eleanor, a still figure, in the dark hall beyond. Dinah saw Eleanor a moment later and, without a word to Henry, went out and welcomed her. Henry himself had rushed out of the rectory and driven home to Pen Cuckoo in a white rage. He had not spoken to Dinah since then, and now he looked anxiously at her. Her wide eyes smiled at him.
‘Dinah?’
‘Henry?’
‘When can I see you?’
‘You see me now,’ said Dinah.
‘Alone. Please?’
‘I don’t know. Is anything wrong?’
‘Eleanor.’
‘Oh, Lord!’ said Dinah.
‘I must talk to you. Above Cloudyfold where we met that morning? Tomorrow, before breakfast. Dinah, will you?’
‘All right,’ said Dinah. ‘If I can.’
Idris Campanula’s conversation flowed in upon their consciousness. Henry was suddenly aware that she had asked him some sort of question.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he began. ‘I’m afraid I –’
‘Now, Henry,’ she interrupted, ‘where are we to go? You’re forgetting your duties, gossiping there with Dinah.’ And she laughed her loud rocketing bray.
‘The study, please,’ said Henry. ‘Will you lead the way?’
She marched into the study, shook hands with Jocelyn and exchanged pecks with Eleanor Prentice.
‘Where’s Dr Templett?’ she asked.
‘He hasn’t arrived yet,’ answered Miss Prentice. ‘We must always make allowances for our medical men, mustn’t we?’
‘He’s up beyond Cloudyfold,’ said the rector. ‘Old Mrs Thrinne is much worse. The third Cain boy has managed to run a nail through his big toe. I met Templett in the village and he told me. He said I was to ask you not to wait.’
‘Beyond Cloudyfold?’ asked Miss Prentice sweetly. Henry saw her exchange a glance with Miss Campanula.
‘Mrs Ross doesn’t have tea till five,’ said Miss Campanula, ‘which I consider a silly ostentation. We certainly will not wait for Dr Templett. Ha!’
‘Templett didn’t say anything about going to Mrs Ross’s,’ said the rector, innocently, ‘though to be sure it is on his way.’
‘My dear good man,’ said Miss Campanula, ‘if you weren’t a saint – however! I only hope he doesn’t try and get her into our play.’
‘Idris dear,’ said Miss Prentice. ‘May I?’
She collected their attention and then said very quietly:
‘I think we are all agreed, aren’t we, that this little experiment is to be just among ourselves? I have got several little plays here for five and six people and I fancy Dinah has found some too.’
‘Six,’ said Miss Campanula very firmly. ‘Five characters won’t do, Eleanor. We’ve three ladies and three men. And if the rector –’
‘No,’ said the rector, ‘I shall not appear. If there’s any help I can give behind the scenes, I shall be only too delighted, but I really don’t want to appear.’
‘Three ladies and three men, then,’ said Miss Campanula. ‘Six.’
‘Certainly no more,’ said Miss Prentice.
‘Well,’ said the squire, ‘if Mrs Ross is very good at acting, and I must say she’s an uncommonly attractive little thing –’
‘No, Jocelyn,’ said Miss Prentice.
‘She is very attractive,’ said Henry.
‘She’s got a good figure,’ said Dinah. ‘Has she had any experience?’
‘My dear child,’ said Miss Campanula loudly, ‘she’s as common as dirt and we certainly don’t want her. I may say that I myself have seen Eleanor’s plays and I fully approve of Simple Susan. There are six characters: three men and three ladies. There is no change of scene, and the theme is suitable.’
‘It’s rather old,’ said Dinah dubiously.
‘My dear child,’ repeated Miss Campanula, ‘if you think we’re going to do one of your modern questionable problem-plays you’re very greatly mistaken.’
‘I think some of the modern pieces are really not quite suitable,’ agreed Miss Prentice gently.
Henry and Dinah smiled.
‘And as for Miss Selia Ross,’ said Miss Campanula, ‘I believe in calling a spade a spade and I have no hesitation in saying I think we’ll be doing a Christian service to poor Mrs Templett, who we all know is too much an invalid to look after herself, if we give Dr Templett something to think about besides –’
‘Come,’ said the rector desperately, ‘aren’t we jumping our fences before we meet them? We haven’t appointed a chairman yet and so far nobody has suggested that Mrs Ross be asked to take part.’
‘They’d better not,’ said Miss Campanula.
The door was thrown open by Taylor, who announced:
‘Mrs Ross and Dr Templett, sir.’
‘What!’ exclaimed the squire involuntarily.
An extremely well-dressed woman and a short rubicund man walked into the room.
‘Hullo! Hullo!’ shouted Dr Templett. ‘I’ve brought Mrs Ross along by sheer force. She’s a perfectly magnificent actress and I tell her she’s got to come off her high horse and show us all how to set about it. I know you’ll be delighted.’
