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"I stopped their game; and they were afraid I would split on them. And this I told them I would do if they tried it again. For some, it must have been a gold-mine in which they had been digging for years, even before my sister was confined to her chair. I came across it, of course, when she became ill; and it angered me to know that, even in her state, she was being swindled, and by the Estate steward too. So you see, Anna, everybody doesn't love me."

"I'm glad of that."

"You are?" His eyebrows moved up.

"Yes. It makes us more on a level, say."

"Oh, I see. Oh'his chin jerked " I don't know whether I do or not.

That's one we will have to talk out. But come, come on upstairs. "

The bedrooms were airy and well furnished, but when they came to two steps going off on to another landing, he stopped and said, "That is the staff's private quarters. Cook has a room, and the girls have another which they share. Walters has a room at the far side of the hall near the kitchen;

but he is in communication with me upstairs if I should need him, which' he made a slight face at her now'I don't intend to for a long time, because the tranquillity of this house will act as a balm on me.

Come along, now we'll go down and visit Cook, and the girls, then we'll have some tea. "

The cook, Mrs. Ada Sprigman, dipped her knee at the introduction and Anna thought how, at one time, she would have made the boys roll on the floor by imitating anyone dipping their knee to her. But not any more, never any more.

The kitchen maid was Lena Cassidy, trim, broad Irish, and she too dipped her knee. The housemaid

was Mary Bowles and she addressed her as 'ma'am'.

What a difference from her reception at the Manor. And she couldn't help but think that these people knew who she was, and therefore all about her.

Walters brought tea into the sitting-room on a trolley. There was a choice of China or Indian tea, dainty sandwiches and small cakes, and she ate of them because she was feeling suddenly hungry and she hadn't felt so for weeks, or months, for that matter . Tea over, she chose from the samples certain materials that might do for the bedroom curtains, and he made notes of her choice. When, later, they sat by the window in the drawing-room, he looked across the small space that divided them and said, "I cannot tell you when I've enjoyed an afternoon more. Anna' he leant towards her and took her hand 'promise me you'll be kind and come and see me often."

"The kindness will be on your part, Tim, because I wouldn't like anything better. You see' she looked down at their joined hands " I cannot any longer talk to Dada; something died in him when Ben went.

Ma is good and kind, but we never have a discussion together; she's always been only too pleased to leave that to Dada. At one time, he and I would talk for hours and he would go into a particular period of history when perhaps new thinking, new ideas were developing. Given the opportunity, you know, Tim, my father could have been a great speaker; he is so lucid and everything he talked about he made interesting. I'll never forget one conversation we had. It was many years ago, but at the time it seemed to set the pattern of my thinking.

What happened today, he said, didn't really happen today, nor yesterday, nor the day before;

it was born as a thought in someone's mind, then passed on by word of mouth, then word of mouth was written down and the writing was read.

Another brain picked up these thoughts and worked on them. And so it went on until the effect is seen in what happens today. It may have been the declaration of a war; it may have been an assassination; it may have been the fruition of some great love; but it never really happened today, it happened days gone, perhaps weeks gone, perhaps years gone, hundreds of years gone when someone had a particular thought. All there is, he said, is thought. Without thought, what is there? Nothing, for without thought we cannot conceive anything. "

She blinked, then muttered, " Oh dear! Fancy me recalling that! Yet, that is how he used to talk. But . but not any more. No, not any more. "

Now he was shaking her hand up and down, saying, "My dear, you once told me that you scribbled poetry in bits and pieces. I would say to you now, forget about your poetry, put your thoughts down. Put down what you have just said to me, and go on from there."

Slowly she shook her head as she said, "That would be merely simplifying things: I mean, writing simple things, because at bottom, I think simply."

"Oh, my dear, how the world wants to read something that has been simplified. The verbiage that the so-called great minds pen is read through struggle

and only by a few. A man gets a name for being a great writer and why?

because to the ordinary people he is difficult to understand: he has enjoyed himself spewing out words, words, words, beautiful words, perhaps, but when analysed they are to be found mostly out of context with his subject. I have begun so many books in my time, my dear, and I have thrown them down with irritation, knowing that I was reading the outpourings of a man's idea of himself, as I can only call it, especially when he is so certain that he is right. Science has begun to move fast, and so many scientists depart from their principles to make things known; some are worse than religious fanatics.

"They fight each other for the right to be right. They stand up in lecture rooms and expound their theories, theories that within ten years might be deemed to be out of date, but at the time they are so certain that they are right in what they think, that they convince others, too; just as Catholic or Protestant will do when asserting there is only one God and He is theirs; not only will they kill others but they kill each other in the name of that God; He will be on their dying lips. Have you ever thought, Anna, of the number who have died because of God? Christ was crucified because of God, and His adherents have crucified each other down the ages, burnt each other at the stake, hanged, drawn, and quartered each other. Where is the reason in man that allows him to do this? or believe in such a God? How can anyone be sure that there is any God at all? And have you ever thought, Anna, of Christians who are strong in their faith but who are terrified of dying, and should one of their own die they mourn him, whereas, if they were following their faith they would know he was in these so-called mansions in heaven. So why mourn? Oh, my dear' he put his hand across his eyes now'I'm so sorry. I'm on my egg-box; I'm indulging in my pet hate of all dogmatic individuals, when I should be remembering that I am talking to someone who has just suffered a loss."

"Please. Please, Tim' she drew his hand from his brow " I understand perfectly. And I'm with you in thought every step of the way. And don't worry about my feelings for Ben; like Dada, I don't think he's gone anywhere yet; his body's in the graveyard but his spirit's still in the house. But' she looked to the side'I sometimes wish, for Dada's peace of mind, that he would move on and go wherever spirits go, for, as long as he remains or as Dada thinks he remains, he will be in a daze. And that's all I can call his present state, a daze. "

She now looked quickly towards the window, saying, "The sun's going down; I must get home. But oh, Tim, I have enjoyed my visit, and our talk. It's wonderful to be able to talk like this again, and to listen. You say I should write, and I say you should write, but I know you do and I would love to read some of your work, some of your poems."

"Oh, my dear, I'll have to be either very very drunk or very very ill before I let you or anyone else read my poems."

"Well, I'll come some evening on the quiet when you're very very drunk."

"Do that. Oh please, do that."

They went out laughing.

As he drove her home she thought of Simon's words when standing near the sawing block: "He's a man, and some of the greatest men have been epileptics."

Be that as it may, she could never see this dear friend of hers asking any woman to marry him. He was too sensitive of his disability and the knowledge that people shied from even a child in fits, let alone from a thrashing-arms man.

It was a strange summer. Towards the end of May the heat became intense; then on the seventh of June people imagined that the world must have gone topsy-turvy or that it was coming to an end, for on this day there was a heavy fall of snow, three and four inches in some places, to be followed directly by muggy and then hot weather again.

It was very noticeable that tempers became frayed. There had been other hot summers or cold winters but these hadn't seemed to affect the family. But since Ben's death so many things had happened, the latest being that Oswald and Olan hadn't returned home until well after nine o'clock the previous night. They were both very tired; they had been working up till half-past eight. It had been too hot for many people to bother cooking, and so the shop had been packed all day, as, in fact, it had been all week. And Oswald had tentatively put a proposal to his parents. Mrs. Simpson had suggested that they make the rooms above the sitting-down shop comfortable where they could both sleep during the week, then come home at the week-ends. Oswald had looked from his mother to his father, then said, "It's a long trail, Dada, when you've had a day on your feet in the heat, and the bustle!

And she's doing us so well and is such a kind woman. "

Nathaniel had looked at Maria, and she had looked at the floor before she had conceded: "Well, if you want it that way, Oswald, so be it.

You're both men now and have to live your own lives. But as long as you come home and see us at the week-end . "

"Oh Oswald had put out a hand to each of them, saying, " Of course we will, Ma; and bring our money with us. "

It was now that Nathaniel put in, "If you are living away, son, we won't expect any money from you; at least, not what you have been giving. And I'm sure Mrs. Simpson will look after you. She seemed a very respectable woman, and sensible."

"She is, Dada; and her daughter, too; and the business is going ahead fine. Both Olan and me think there are prospects there."

At this Maria lifted her head and said, "What kind of prospects?" and looked straight at her son, so that he, a bit flustered, answered,

"Well, Ma, she'll give us a good rise at the end of the year; we feel sure on that. And because she's in business, she gets a discount on clothes and things and said if we ever wanted anything ... well, we could have a ticket."

"Very kind of her, I'm sure," Maria said; then turned away . But it was settled that the boys were to leave home, and Maria had packed up a preliminary bundle of clothes for each of them and which they would take with them the following morning, the rest to be taken on their next return journey.

From then on, for most of the week only Anna herself. Cherry, and Jimmy were at home, at least during the evenings. And then it would seem that there was a lot for Cherry to do outside, especially where Bobby Crane was concerned.

However, there was no objection from either her mother or her father.

Anna now often found herself walking with Jimmy. Since Ben's going, he, too, had changed. He seemed to have lost his impishness; in fact, at times, in his talk one would think he was quite as old as the twins.

On this particular night, walking by her side through the wood, he proffered the remark, "The house is breaking up, isn't it, Anna?"

"What do you mean by breaking up. Jimmy?" she had stopped "The boys had to go into town."

"Oh, I know that. I know that. But the next to leave will be Cherry.

She'll marry Bobby. "

"How can she do that? He's still apprenticed: they'll have nothing to live on. "

"Oh, I don't think that will matter very much. They'll get through.

Dada would help them. Anyway, if she doesn't get married soon there'll be trouble. "

"Oh! Jimmy." She again stopped abruptly; and he did so, too, and, looking at her, he said, "She's ready for marrying."

This was her young brother, not yet eighteen. Had it been Oswald talking, she would have understood. Yet, Jimmy was a farmer, living with raw nature every day. But, oh dear me.

She walked on now, thinking: He said Dada would help them. Did he know anything about the money that would be coming, supposedly from her mother's people? Her parents hadn't mentioned anything further about what Miss Netherton might get for the cross or if she had already got it; and she hadn't asked them, because there seemed to be a wall growing between them. Of course, she must remember that Miss Netherton had been away for the past three weeks on holiday. She had gone down to a place on the South coast called Brighton.

They had been walking on, but once again she was brought to a stop by Jimmy's saying, "I want to get away, Anna."

Dumbfounded for a moment, she could only gaze at him. Then when she managed to speak, her voice was a little above a whisper: "Why, Jimmy?

Where to? What do you mean? " she said.

He smiled at her now as he repeated, "Why? Where to? What do you mean?

Because what is there here for me? You know something? I'd like to go to sea. "

"You would?"

"Yes. Yes, I would. That's where to, to sea."

"They'd be upset if you were to leave."

"Well, they'd still have each other, and that's the main thing in their life, isn't it? And, of course, they'll still have you. Oh!

Anna' he now put his hand on her sleeve 'why didn't you take the chance that was open to you? That fellow would have stood on his head for you: Mr. Simon. "

"Jimmy!"

"Oh, you can say " Jimmy" like that, but we're all bastards, aren't we?

And you wouldn't have been any worse thought of; in fact, there are some who would have looked up to you, let me tell you. "

She almost pushed him on his back, so fiercely did she thrust him aside as she said, "Well! let me tell you, as I see it, I didn't give myself the name of bastard, it was passed on to me. And I'll tell you this much an' all, I'm never going to earn it, no matter what happens.