‘One must face these moments, of course,’ Cedric muttered, and they stepped out into a flood of wintry sunshine.

There were only two people on the platform—a young man in second lieutenant’s uniform and a tall girl. They were a good-looking pair and somewhat alike—blue-eyed, dark and thin. They came forward, the young man limping and using his stick.

‘Oh, lud!’ Cedric complained. ‘Ancreds by the shoal. Greetings, you two.’

‘Hallo, Cedric,’ they said without much show of enthusiasm, and the girl turned quickly and cordially towards Troy.

‘This is my cousin, Fenella Ancred,’ Cedric explained languidly. ‘And the warrior is another cousin, Paul Kentish. Miss Agatha Troy, or should it be Mrs Alleyn? So difficult.’

‘It’s splendid that you’ve come,’ said Fenella Ancred. ‘Grandfather’s terribly excited and easily ten years younger. Have you got lots of luggage? If so, we’ll either make two journeys or would you mind walking up the hill? We’ve only brought the governess-cart and Rosinante’s a bit elderly’

‘Walk!’ Cedric screamed faintly. ‘My dear Fenella, you must be demented! Me? Rosinante (and may I say in parentheses I consider the naming of this animal an insufferable piece of whimsy), Rosinante shall bear me up the hill though it be its last conscious act.’

‘I’ve got two suitcases and my painting gear,’ said Troy, ‘which is pretty heavy.’

‘We’ll see what can be done about it,’ said Paul Kentish, eyeing Cedric with distaste. ‘Come on, Fen.’

Troy’s studio easel and heavy luggage had to be left at a cottage, to be sent up later in the evening by carrier, but they packed her worn hand luggage and Cedric’s green shade suitcases into the governess-cart and got on top of them. The fat white pony strolled away with them down a narrow lane.

‘It’s a mile to the gates,’ Paul Kentish said, ‘and another mile up to the house. We’ll get out at the gates, Fen.’

‘I should like to walk,’ said Troy.

‘Then Cedric,’ said Fenella with satisfaction, ‘can drive.’

‘But I’m not a horsy boy,’ Cedric protested. ‘The creature might sit down or turn round and bite me. Don’t you think you’re being rather beastly?’

‘Don’t be an ass,’ said Fenella. ‘He’ll just go on walking home.’

‘Who’s in residence?’ Cedric demanded.

‘The usual,’ she said. ‘Mummy’s coming for the weekend after this. I’m on leave for a fortnight. Otherwise, Aunt Milly and Aunt Pauline. That’s Cedric’s mother and Paul’s mother,’ Fenella explained to Troy. ‘I expect you’ll find us rather muddling to begin with. Aunt Pauline’s Mrs Kentish and Mummy’s Mrs Claude Ancred, and Aunt Millamant’s Mrs Henry Ancred.’

‘Henry Irving Ancred, don’t forget,’ Cedric cut in, ‘deceased. My papa, you know.’