It is nearly four o’clock by the time the funeral cortege leaves the cemetery. I am relieved the service and burial are over, but I do not relish the idea of what lies ahead. Mama spent many teary hours instructing Mrs. Jessop, the housekeeper, and Withers, the butler, on precisely what will be required when those invited back to the house after the funeral arrive.

All serving staff are to wear their mourning livery for the event, and those working below stairs will sport black armbands. There is to be a buffet of grand proportions, and the house dressed and presented in somber but dignified style. The food will be light, and refreshing. The heat will no doubt have already sapped the strength and wilted the nerves of those attending, so iced tea will be offered, along with lemonade and sherry. Withers will have selected a reasonable burgundy for those who felt the need of it, and whiskey, of course, for the men. Deliveries of lilies and black ribbon arrived almost hourly throughout the morning. Secretly, I wish we could have had a simple gathering. I favor the modern trend for a paring down of the traditional trappings and trimmings of a society funeral. But I understood my mother’s need to throw herself into her role as widow, and to do this one last act as lady of the house. For now, at least, she has the diversion of being occupied to lessen her grief.

After slow progress through the busy streets the driver at last draws up in front of what has been the London home of the Montgomery family for generations. Number One Fitzroy Square stands four stories tall, its broad white frontage separated from the world by gleaming, black iron railings. Wide steps lead up to the columned portico which frames the heavy black door. The brass door furniture and bell pull have been polished to a deep shine and only ever touched by gloved hands. The square is formed by four streets of such houses, all striking in their symmetry, their snowy facades, and their pleasing classical proportions. In the middle of the square there is a large private garden, ringed by a fence of railings which match those in front of the houses. Each household is in possession of a key so that they might enter and enjoy the lavishly planted gardens, with their walnut and chestnut trees, their shady walks and flower-filled beds. The foliage of the trees and the abundant shrubs provide a dignified yet pretty division between the houses on one side of the square and those opposite, and are so cleverly designed as to give the impression almost of a small slice of the countryside, transplanted to the heart of the city.