Just then Didier appeared, carrying a tray, with glasses and a jug of lemonade and a plate of macaroon biscuits. He was followed by Lizette with cloth and plates to lay out on the table, and so Rosalie put these thoughts away to be considered later. Once the refreshments had been set out, Rosalie told Didier that they would help themselves.

‘Hélène, chérie,’ she said, ‘will you pour the lemonade, and perhaps Rupert will pass the glasses.’

Rupert was happy enough to be thus called upon. It demonstrated to him that he was no longer considered a guest to be waited on, but one of the informal family group.

It was as he picked up a glass of lemonade, and was carrying it over to Rosalie, that he was struck by a sudden shaft of pain in his head, making him stagger. He cried out, dropping the glass onto the ground, the lemonade spraying over his hostess’s skirt. For a moment he clutched his head in his hands and then the pain was gone, leaving him unfocused and giddy.

‘Rupert!’ Hélène cried, leaving the table and rushing to his side. ‘Are you all right? What happened?’

For a moment Rupert thought he might collapse but then the dizziness passed and, seeming to recover, he apologised profusely to Rosalie for his carelessness.

Rosalie had looked up in alarm as he’d dropped the glass, and as she heard his apologies, she saw that all colour had drained from his face, leaving him deathly pale.

‘My dear Monsieur Chalfont,’ she cried. ‘You are unwell. Please, sit down, sit down.’

‘Really, madame,’ he said a little shakily, ‘it is nothing. Perhaps the heat or a little too much sun.’ But he followed her instruction to sit, nonetheless, and was glad to do so. Hélène was at his side at once, fear in her eyes.

‘Rupert,’ she said again, more quietly this time. ‘What is the matter? You look quite ill.’

‘Nothing,’ he answered with a weak smile. ‘I’m fine, really. Just a moment’s dizziness, which caused me to spoil your mother’s dress.’

‘Just stay sitting where you are,’ Hélène said, taking charge. ‘You mustn’t get up again until you’re feeling better. Louise, will you run indoors and ask Didier for some brandy for Monsieur Chalfont? He needs a restorative.’

‘Yes, hurry up, child,’ Rosalie said. ‘Ask him to bring it at once.’

Moments later Rupert was sipping from a generous measure of brandy, and as he felt the warmth of the spirit trickling down his throat, he did indeed feel better. A little colour crept into his cheeks and again he apologised to Rosalie, who dismissed his words with a wave of her hands.

‘Think nothing of it, m’sieur,’ she said. ‘Yvette will have that set to rights in no time. It is you who must concern us now. How are you feeling?’

Rupert smiled and said, ‘Much better, madame, the brandy has done me a world of good.’

The accident seemed to have brought the party under the tree to a close, and it was not long before they all repaired indoors to the cool of the drawing room, saying that it really was much too hot to be sitting outside.