That was what she minded so dreadfully.

They were no longer enough for each other. Three was company no more. All her plans for an orderly happy life together had collapsed, and they lived in a state of scrappy confusion and continuous efforts not to quarrel.

She knew that she was boring, elder-sisterish, tiresome and a spoilsport. She did not really blame the boys for being angry with her. But what other attitude could she take, when she thought she saw her brothers, the two people she loved best in the world, beginning the journey along that road which their father had taken?

Yet if she spoke out strongly, and reminded them of his example and fate, Francis said, ‘Oh rot. We should never get like Father did; we’ve seen too much of that sort of thing,’ and Harry said, ‘Oh rot. It’ll be all right. Don’t worry. You’re getting just like Uncle Preston.’

This accusation could always silence her.

Miss Tessitt was another thorn. Miss Tessitt, of course, knew what was going on, and derived much pleasure from disapproving.

‘I see your brothers in that car last naight with that girl. May! they was goin’ a pace! Well, Ay says to may friend, sooner them than may, Ay says. Always out, aren’t they? Not at all what you might call home birds, are they? Ay shouldn’t laike to keep house for them, Ay must say.’

And old Mrs Barker, timidly yet tenaciously coming every Wednesday and Saturday morning to maltreat the doorstep and pocket her one and sixpence, would say:

‘You had a party lars night didn’t you, dear? Always ’avin’ parties, aren’t you? I come pars about eleven o’clock, an’ ’eard the wireless.’

‘The gramophone,’ corrected Sophia glumly.

Why should she be accused of having a wireless in the cottage? Had she not enough to bear without that?

‘Gramophone, was it? ’Aven’t you got no wireless?’

‘No, Mrs Barker.’

‘Aow, what a shame.’

Sophia contented herself with smiling at Mrs Barker, handed her a cup of her special Indian tea, and firmly closed the door on her.

What a lot of pensioners would go down when …

When the cottage went down … when they separated … but they couldn’t! They mustn’t separate!

Oh, how horribly quickly the idea had come into her head, and was now enthroned there, driving all other thoughts into the background. She tried not to think of it. She told herself that this state of affairs would not last. Harry and Francis would get tired of Juan, and then the three could make a fresh start.

During the third week in August ‘The Racket’ came off, much to everyone’s surprise.

This was serious. At a blow it docked the Gardens’ income of five pounds a week, and flung them on Sophia’s salary and Francis’s. Harry had not saved a penny and neither had Sophia, and in the circumstances Harry felt that he was morally entitled to call upon Mr Marriot.

Mr Marriot listened in silence to his rather halting remarks and then quietly told him that Dr Cameron and his partner had agreed only that morning to buy the practice for two thousand pounds.