‘I can’t go,’ I said. ‘I must say good-bye to your mother.’

‘Sweet bulldog.’

‘Well, I don’t happen to like running away.’

‘And I couldn’t care less. And I shall go on running away, as far and as fast as I can. You can hatch up any plot you like with my mother; I shan’t come back.’

‘That’s how you talked last night.’

‘I know. I’m sorry, Charles. I told you I was still drunk. If it’s any comfort to you, I absolutely detest myself.’

‘It’s no comfort at all.’

‘It must be a little, I should have thought. Well, if you won’t come, give my love to nanny.’

‘You’re really going?’

‘Of course.’

‘Shall I see you in London?’

‘Yes, I’m coming to stay with you.’

He left me but I did not sleep again; nearly two hours later a footman came with tea and bread and butter and set my clothes out for a new day.

—

Later that morning I sought Lady Marchmain; the wind had freshened and we stayed indoors; I sat near her before the fire in her room, while she bent over her needlework and the budding creeper rattled on the window panes.

‘I wish I had not seen him,’ she said. ‘That was cruel. I do not mind the idea of his being drunk. It is a thing all men do when they are young. I am used to the idea of it. My brothers were wild at his age. What hurt last night was that there was nothing happy about him.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’ve never seen him like that before.’

‘And last night of all nights…when everyone had gone and there were only ourselves here – you see, Charles, I look on you very much as one of ourselves. Sebastian loves you – when there was no need for him to make an effort to be gay. And he wasn’t gay. I slept very little last night, and all the time I kept coming back to that one thing; he was so unhappy.’

It was impossible for me to explain to her what I only half understood myself; even then I felt, ‘She will learn it soon enough. Perhaps she knows it now.’

‘It was horrible,’ I said. ‘But please don’t think that’s his usual way.’

‘Mr Samgrass told me he was drinking too much all last term.’

‘Yes, but not like that – never before.’

‘Then why now? here? with us? All night I have been thinking and praying and wondering what I was to say to him, and now, this morning, he isn’t here at all. That was cruel of him, leaving without a word. I don’t want him to be ashamed – it’s being ashamed that makes it all so wrong of him.’

‘He’s ashamed of being unhappy,’ I said.

‘Mr Samgrass says he is noisy and high-spirited. I believe,’ she said, with a faint light of humour streaking the clouds, ‘I believe you and he tease Mr Samgrass rather. It’s naughty of you. I’m very fond of Mr Samgrass, and you should be too, after all he’s done for you. But I think perhaps if I were your age and a man, I might be just a little inclined to tease Mr Samgrass myself. No, I don’t mind that, but last night and this morning are something quite different. You see, it’s all happened before.’