day; the sky was blue, the trees were turning green even as she looked at them and there were lambs racing around the fields, and when she sat on a tree stump to get her breath a squirrel came and sat within a yard or two of her. There were compensations, she told herself stoutly.
She was surprised to find Lady Fox waiting for her in the hall when she went there on the Monday morning. She wondered uneasily if she had done something really dire, like sending a letter in the wrong envelope, but from the smile on Lady Fox’s face she thought that unlikely.
‘There you are, Matilda,’ said Lady Fox unnecessarily. ‘Come into the sitting-room, will you? I should like a word with you.’
She nodded to a chair and Matilda sat down, wondering what to expect.
‘Roseanne,’ began Lady Fox, ‘has consented to pay a visit to London—her godmother, you know, the Honourable Mrs Venables. I am delighted; she is bound to meet people.’ Lady Fox really meant young men free to marry. ‘There is simply no one of her age and class here.’
Matilda said nothing, although that was difficult; the ffinches had been in and around Dorset for centuries and were as good, if not better than the Foxes, and what was more her mother was distantly related to a peer of the realm—so distant, it must be said, that her family name was a mere dot on the outskirts of the lordly family tree—all the same, it was there.
‘Such a pity,’ went on Lady Fox in what she considered to be a confidential voice, ‘that Mr Scott-Thurlow is engaged to be married, although of course he would have been rather old for Roseanne—a pity that I wasn’t told.’
‘You were telling me about Roseanne’s visit,’ prompted Matilda while she thought about Mr Scott-Thurlow.
‘I am coming to that. She will go only on the condition that you go with her. The visit is for a month and you would go as her companion. Her godmother has no objection, and I shall of course pay you your usual salary. In a week’s time.’
‘I’ll talk it over with my mother and father,’ said Matilda in a quiet voice which her nearest and dearest would have recognised as the first sign of rage coming to the boil. ‘I shall want to consider it myself.’
Lady Fox looked astounded. ‘But my dear girl, it is such a splendid opportunity for you to see something of the sophisticated world—you might even meet some suitable young man. If you are worried about clothes I’m sure—’
‘No, I’m not worried about clothes, Lady Fox. I’m not sure that I want to go to London. I really must have a day or two to think about it.’
Lady Fox’s formidable frontage swelled alarmingly. ‘Well, really, I don’t know what to say. It is most important that Roseanne should go—she is so—so countrified and gauche. Vera and Mary are so much younger and already quite self-possessed.’
Matilda, who disliked the two teenagers, agreed politely; Roseanne was dull and had no backbone worth mentioning, but at least she wasn’t rude.
Lady Fox rose. ‘Well, since you seem to want time to think over this splendid offer, perhaps you will let me know as soon as you have decided? Now, will you see to the post and wash the Sèvres? I have to go in to Sherborne. I shall be back for lunch—Sir Benjamin is out so there will be just myself, Roseanne and yourself. Tell Cook, will you?’
She hurried away, looking cross, and Matilda wandered off to the kitchen where she discussed lunch with Cook and had a cup of tea before going through the post.
She was in the china pantry washing the precious Sèvres china when Roseanne wandered in.
‘Matilda, you will come with me, won’t you? I won’t go unless you do. Mother keeps on and on, if I don’t go I won’t stay here either, I’ll run away.’
Matilda eyed her carefully. Roseanne meant it. The worm had turned, and, let loose on an uncaring world, Roseanne wouldn’t stand a chance…
‘I’ll have to discuss it with Mother and Father but I don’t think they would mind, just for a few weeks.’
‘You’ll come? Oh, Matilda, I’ll never be able to thank you enough—I’ll do anything…’
‘No need,’ said Matilda prosaically, ‘I dare say it will be quite fun.’
Her parents raised no objection; she told Lady Fox the next day that she was willing to go with Roseanne and listened to that lady’s monologue about the benefits of London to a girl like Roseanne. ‘Of course you may not get invited to the dinner parties and dances her godmother will arrange, but I dare say you will be glad of that.’
‘Why?’ asked Matilda with interest.
Lady Fox went an unbecoming red. ‘Oh, I have no intention of being rude, Matilda—what I mean is that you will need time to yourself occasionally and there will be no need to attend all the parties Roseanne is bound to go to. I rely upon you to see that she buys only suitable clothes, and please discourage any friendships she may strike up if the—er—young man isn’t suitable. She is very young…’
Twenty-two wasn’t all that young, thought Matilda, and it was high time Roseanne found her own feet and stood on them.
At home, she inspected her wardrobe and decided that there was no need to buy anything new. She had two evening dresses, both off the peg and by no means new, but nevertheless pretty. She had a good suit, blouses and sweaters enough, a skirt or two and a rather nice jersey dress bought in the January sales. She climbed the narrow stairs to the attic, found a rather battered case, hauled it downstairs and packed it without enthusiasm. London in the spring would come a poor second to Abner Magna.
Each day she was taken aside and lectured by Lady Fox about the London visit; she must do this and not that, young men were to be scrutinised and Roseanne wasn’t to go gallivanting off…
Matilda forbore from pointing out that the girl was the last person on earth to gallivant, and anyway with those spots and that unfortunate nose she wasn’t likely to get the chance. Let the poor girl have her fling! However timid, she was a nice girl and perhaps with her mother out of the way she might even improve enormously.
She made suitable replies to Lady Fox’s remarks and that lady, looking at her, wished for the hundredth time that it could have been someone else but Matilda ffinch who was going with Roseanne; the girl was too pretty—more than that, that hair and those wide eyes weren’t to be ignored. She would have to drop a word in Roseanne’s godmother’s ear to make sure that Matilda attended as few dances and parties as possible; no one—no man—would look at the dear girl while Matilda was there, although give the girl her due she wasn’t a young woman to push herself forward; she knew her place, Lady Fox reflected, happily unaware of the superiority of the ffinches over the Foxes.
They were to travel up to London in the Foxes’ Daimler driven by Gregg the chauffeur and gardener. Matilda got up early, made a tour of the rather untidy garden, ate a good breakfast and presented herself at the manor at nine o’clock sharp.
Roseanne, wearing expensive mud-brown tweeds, quite unsuitable for the time of year, looked as though she would change her mind about going at any moment; Matilda bustled her briskly into the car with the promise that they would telephone as soon as they arrived and they drove away.
It was a pleasant morning, chilly still but the sun shone and Matilda, chatting bracingly about the pleasures in store, wanted very much to get out of the
