‘Lulu dear,’ said Elizabeth, tripping across the room with little brisk steps. ‘First I must apologise: so humbly. Such a stupid accident. I tried to open your front door, and gave it a teeny little push and your servants had forgotten to take the chain down. I am afraid I broke something. The hasp must have been rusty.’

Lucia looked puzzled.

‘But didn’t Grosvenor come to open the door when you rang?’ she asked.

‘That was just what I forgot to do, dear,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I thought I would pop in to see you without troubling Grosvenor. You and I such friends, and so difficult to remember that my dear little Mallards – several things to talk about!’

Lucia got up.

‘Let us first see what damage you have done,’ she said with an icy calmness, and marched straight out of the room, followed by Elizabeth. The sound of the explosion had brought Grosvenor out of the dining room, and Lucia picked up the dangling hasp and examined it.

‘No, no sign of rust,’ she said. ‘Grosvenor, you must go down to the ironmonger and get them to come up and repair this at once. The chain must be made safer and you must remember always to put it on, day and night. If I am out, I will ring.’

‘So awfully sorry, dear Lulu,’ said Elizabeth, slightly cowed by this firm treatment. ‘I had no idea the chain could be up. We all keep our doors on the latch in Tilling. Quite a habit.’

‘I always used to in Riseholme,’ said Lucia. ‘Let us go back to the garden-room, and you will tell me what you came to talk about.’

‘Several things,’ said Elizabeth when they had settled themselves. ‘First, I am starting a little jumble sale for the hospital, and I wanted to look out some old curtains and rugs, laid away in cupboards, to give to it. May I just go upstairs and downstairs and poke about to find them?’

‘By all means,’ said Lucia. ‘Grosvenor shall go round with you as soon as she has come back from the ironmonger’s.’

‘Thank you, dear,’ said Elizabeth, ‘though there’s no need to trouble Grosvenor. Then another thing. I persuaded Mr Georgie to send me a sketch for our picky exhibition. Promise me that you’ll send me one too. Wouldn’t be complete without something by you. How you get all you do into the day is.

Lucia readily promised, and Elizabeth then appeared to lose herself in reverie.

‘There is one more thing,’ she said at last. ‘I have heard a little gossip in the town both today and yesterday about a fête which it is proposed to give in my garden. I feel sure it is mere tittle-tattle, but I thought it would be better to come up here to know from you that there is no foundation for it.’