“You’re not going to see Gaston?”

“No. Certainly not! I never want to see him again. Please trust me, Rachel.”

“Really, Freddie, I can’t see …”

“Look here. Why did I go into the stables just then? It was because something made me. I knew it was important that I should. It is because there is something special between us. I have an idea that this can work out. Please do as I say. Trust me, Rachel.”

She nodded. Till tomorrow, then. “

I left her then. I felt the key in my pocket as I ran from the Bell House to Grindle’s Farm.

I prayed all the way, let Daniel be there! Please, please, God, let him be there.

My prayer was answered. He was the first person I saw when I reached the farmhouse.

“Oh, Daniel!” I panted.

“I am so pleased to see you. I must talk to you. It’s very important.”

“My dear Freddie …” he began.

“It’s about Rachel,” I said.

“I am very, very worried. Where can we talk?”

At the mention of Rachel’s name he looked alarmed.

“Come into my workshop,” he said.

“It is just here.”

I went with him. In the room there were two stools and a bench with tools lying on it.

“Now,” he said, ‘what is it? “

“She was going to kill herself.”

“What?”

“Daniel, I’m afraid she will. She is very, very unhappy. I know you love her. So do I. She is my best friend. I couldn’t bear it if ..”

“What is all this about?”

“It’s Gaston Marchmont.”

He turned pale and I saw his fists clench.

What has he done? “

“He’s married Tamarisk.”

“And Rachel?”

“She thought he would marry her.”

“My God,” he said quietly.

“Yes, he’s a … philanderer. He courted Rachel …” I hesitated. I was praying silently again. Please, God, let me do this right. I have to explain to him . for Rachel. Let me do it the right way and let him understand. It’s the only way. If he won’t help, she’ll kill herself.

I steeled myself afresh.

“She … she is going to have a baby. I found her in the stables where Mr. Dorian hanged himself. Something led me there. We’re very great friends. Daniel, I would do anything I could for Rachel. I thought you might, too.”

He stared at me unbelievingly. I thought: He is shocked. He is horrified. He doesn’t love her as much as I thought he did.

“She can’t face it, Daniel,” I pleaded.

“She can’t face it … alone.”

“In the stables,” he muttered.

“Where the old man …”

That must have been why she thought of it. She was going to do it, Daniel. If I hadn’t gone in . “

“Rachel…” he murmured.

“She was so unhappy. Oh, how I hate that man!”

The silence seemed to go on for a long time. Then I said:

“If only he hadn’t come here. I thought perhaps you might love her enough. You did ask her to marry you.”

“She didn’t accept me. It was because of that man.”

“People make mistakes about other people, Daniel. If you really loved her … I thought you did. It’s why I came. I’m sorry now. I thought if you really loved her, you could marry her. Then it would be all right about the baby.”

I was going too far. That sense of the important part I must play had been chosen to play in this tragedy was fast disappearing. I was trying to arrange other people’s lives. It was arrogant. It was meddling. And Rachel’s life was at stake.

I heard myself saying: “I suppose you think it is no business of mine.

But she is my friend. I care about her so much. I just can’t let her kill herself when there is a way out.”

Daniel spoke then.

“You’re a good girl,” he said.

“You did right to come to me.”

“Oh, Daniel, did I? You will, then? Oh, thank you … thank you.”

He said: “I’ll go and see her.”

“There isn’t much time. I was afraid to leave her. Daniel … will you come now?”

“Yes,” he said.

“I’ll come now.”

He sat me in front of him on his horse and we went to the Bell House.

When we arrived and had dismounted, he said: “Go home now, Freddie. I will go to Rachel. I shall come to see you before I go back to the farm.”

“Oh, Daniel … thank you … thank you.”

My lips were trembling. I was still praying inwardly that he would do what I wanted him to do.

He looked at me for a few moments and I could see that he was very moved.

Then he kissed me lightly on the forehead and said, as he had before:

“You are a good girl.”

He turned away, and I went home and straight to my room. I did not talk to anyone of what had happened . not even Aunt Sophie.

A month later Rachel and Daniel were married. It was a quiet wedding, as there was just enough time for the banns to be read in church. I was well aware that in due course people would be nodding their heads and whispering that the reason for haste was now clear.

Daniel was happy and I was glad. I felt very proud of myself for thinking of this solution, and extremely gratified because it had come to pass. I was old enough and wise enough to have realized that Daniel was an unusual man.

And how fortunate it was that he had been at hand to set this matter right. I had witnessed that rare phenomenon an example of selfless love; and I thought what a lucky girl Rachel was to have inspired it.

I tried to tell Rachel this and she agreed with me. She said she would never forget what Daniel had done for her and without reproaches of any sort. She was going to try to make up for that for the rest of her life.

And Tamarisk? What was her life going to be?

She and Gaston continued to live at St. Aubyn’s. Gaston paid a great deal of attention to Mrs. St. Aubyn who, I was told, had become very fond of him. There was a coolness between him and Crispin. Crispin, I believed, was of a suspicious nature, and would be asking himself why Gaston had wanted such a hasty wedding.

I wondered what he would have said if he had known that the baby Rachel was going to have was Gaston’s.

I had been roughly awakened to the ugly side of life in Barrow Wood some years before. Now it seemed I had extended my knowledge.

Rachel had certainly married in unusual circumstances, but what of Tamarisk? She might be contented now, but what would her life be with such a man as Gaston?

I often thought of those girls we had been at the ball, dreaming of ‘coming out’ and courtship, marriage and the ultimate goal of living happily ever after. How often was that dream attained? I wondered.

There was Rachel with this as yet unborn baby. For her there would be memories. And Daniel kind Daniel self-effacing as he was, surely when the child came he would sometimes think of Gaston and Rachel together.

But Tamarisk. She must live her life with the man who, while he was claiming undying love for her, was making love to someone else.

Crispin’s manner towards Gaston was so cool that I began to wonder whether he had discovered something. It occurred to me that Gaston might be capable of any deceit. What of those grand estates in France and Scotland? Did they really exist? Had he wanted to secure Tamarisk and her fortune before it was found out that he was not what he had made himself out to be?

It seemed plausible that this might be so.

I went to see Tamarisk. She had changed a little. She looked more sophisticated. She laughed a good deal and was full of gaiety, but I did wonder whether part of it was assumed. She insisted that life was wonderful. But did she do this too vehemently?

I asked her if she and Gaston were going to live at St. Aubyn’s.

“Oh no,” she answered.

“We’re pondering. Such fun! We’re not quite sure where we want to live. St. Aubyn’s will do very well until we’ve decided.”

“I should think it would do very well indeed!” I replied.

“You won’t live abroad, will you? Those estates in France.”

“Oh, you’ve forgotten. Gaston sold those. We might buy another there.”

“And Scotland?” I went on.

“Those are in the process of being sold. At the moment we shall be here. My mother is pleased about that. She adores Gaston.”

“And Crispin?” I asked.

“Oh, you know Crispin. He never adores anything except the estate.”

Was she happy, or was there a hint of uneasiness which she was trying to disguise?

As for me, there was a certain amount of uncertainty. Aunt Sophie had thought there would be more balls at St. Aubyn’s to which eligible young men would be asked. Tamarisk’s marriage had put an end to that.

I was caught up by Miss Hetherington. I must, she said, ‘pull my weight’ and do what I could for the good of Harper’s Green. That meant I must join the sewing circle, making garments for the poor and naked people of some remote part of Africa. I must help promote the bazaar and the annual fete. I must join in the organizing of the;H cake-judging competition and become a member of the flower-arranging class.

Aunt Sophie was amused at first, and then a little thoughtful. It was not what she had planned for me.

I said: “I feel I ought to do something. I mean, take a post of some sort. After all, I’m a bit of a drain on you.”

“Drain! I never heard such nonsense.”

“Well, you can’t be as well off as you were before I came. So it must be something of a burden.”

“No such thing. You’re a bonus.”

“And you are a darling,” I replied.

“Yet I do want to do something.

Earn a little money preferably. You give me so much. “

“You give me so much, too. But I do know what you mean. You don’t want to stultify, become a martyr to village life, become another Maud Hetherington.”