“Isn’t this food lovely?” said Megan. “And everything!”

She heaved a delighted sigh.

“Exactly my sentiments,” I said.

It was a delirious evening. I was still mad. Megan brought me down to earth when she said doubtfully:

“Oughtn’t we to be going home?”

My jaw dropped. Yes, definitely I was mad. I had forgotten everything! I was in a world divorced from reality, existing in it with the creature I had created.

“Good Lord!” I said.

I realized that the last train had gone.

“Stay there,” I said. “I’m going to telephone.”

I rang up the Llewellyn Hire people and ordered their biggest and fastest car to come round as soon as possible.

I came back to Megan. “The last train has gone,” I said. “So we’re going home by car.”

“Are we? What fun!”

What a nice child she was, I thought. So pleased with everything, so unquestioning, accepting all my suggestions without fuss or bother.

The car came, and it was large and fast, but all the same it was very late when we came into Lymstock.

Suddenly conscience-stricken, I said, “They’ll have been sending out search parties for you!”

But Megan seemed in an equable mood. She said vaguely:

“Oh, I don’t think so. I often go out and don’t come home for lunch.”

“Yes, my dear child, but you’ve been out for tea and dinner too.”

However, Megan’s lucky star was in the ascendant. The house was dark and silent. On Megan’s advice, we went round to the back and threw stones at Rose’s window.

In due course Rose looked out and with many suppressed exclamations and palpitations came down to let us in.

“Well now, and I saying you were asleep in your bed. The master and Miss Holland”—(slight sniff after Miss Holland’s name)—“had early supper and went for a drive. I said I’d keep an eye to the boys. I thought I heard you come in when I was up in the nursery trying to quiet Colin, who was playing up, but you weren’t about when I came down so I thought you’d gone to bed. And that’s what I said when the master came in and asked for you.”

I cut short the conversation by remarking that that was where Megan had better go now.

“Good night,” said Megan, “and thank you awfully. It’s been the loveliest day I’ve ever had.”

I drove home slightly light-headed still, and tipped the chauffeur handsomely, offering him a bed if he liked. But he preferred to drive back through the night.

The hall door had opened during our colloquy and as he drove away it was flung wide open and Joanna said:

“So it’s you at last, is it?”

“Were you worried about me?” I asked, coming in and shutting the door.