Her hard confident young eyes softened as they watched her husband's absorbed face. She adored Greg. She sensed vaguely that Greg cared for her less than she cared for him - but that only strengthened her passion. Greg was hers, she'd do anything for him. Anything at all...

III

Maude Abernethie, changing her dress for dinner at Enderby, (for she was staying the night) wondered if she ought to have offered to stay longer to help Helen out with the sorting and clearing of the house. There would be all Richard's personal things... There might be letters... All important papers, she supposed, had already been taken possession of by Mr Entwhistle. And it really was necessary for her to get back to Timothy as soon as possible. He fretted so when she was not there to look after him. She hoped he would be pleased about the will and not annoyed. He had expected, she knew, that most of Richard's fortune would come to him. After all, he was the only surviving Abernethie. Richard could surely have trusted him to look after the younger generation. Yes, she was afraid Timothy would be annoyed... And that was so bad for his digestion. And really, when he was annoyed, Timothy could become quite unreasonable. There were times when he seemed to lose his sense of proportion... She wondered if she ought to speak to Dr Barton about it... Those sleeping pills - Timothy had been taking far too many of them lately - he got so angry when she wanted to keep the bottle for him. But they could be dangerous - Dr Barton had said so - you could get drowsy and forget you'd taken them - and then take more. And then anything might happen! There certainly weren't as many left in the bottle as there ought to be... Timothy was really very naughty about medicines. He wouldn't listen to her... He was very difficult sometimes.

She sighed - then brightened. Things were going to be much easier now. The garden, for instance -

IV

Helen Abernethie sat by the fire in the green drawing-room waiting for Maude to come down to dinner.

She looked round her, remembering old days here with Leo and the others. It had been a happy house. But a house like this needed people. It needed children and servants and big meals and plenty of roaring fires in winter. It had been a sad house when it had been lived in by one old man who had lost his son...

Who would buy it, she wondered? Would it be turned into an hotel, or an institute, or perhaps one of those hostels for young people? That was what happened to these vast houses nowadays. No one would buy

them to live in. It would be pulled down, perhaps, and the whole estate built over. It made her sad to think of that, but she pushed the sadness aside resolutely. It did one no good to dwell on the past. This house, and happy days here, and Richard, and Leo, all that was good, but it was over. She had her own activities and friends and interests. Yes, her interests... And now, with the income Richard had left her, she would be able to keep on the villa in Cyprus and do all the things she had planned to do.