Accordingly, on the top of the long low brick building which jutted out over the water so as to house the boats in an area half river and half bank, there had been constructed a big, gabled, half-timbered room with lattice windows looking out over the river. The land approach was through a wicket gate beside the path and across a lawn edged with neat flower beds to an entrance under a wooden balcony held up by pillars in the form of tree trunks; woodbine now mingled with the clematis which had been planted to clothe these rugged columns. Inside was a lobby, a serving-room and a room for keeping such necessities as fishing tackle and card-tables – Minnie had been known to call for these immediately lunch was over – but mainly there was the big, light room, its unpolished wooden floor covered with Indian rugs and its many windows looking out onto woods and river. There were trees, tall beeches mainly, on the opposite bank as well as on the side where the boat-house was built; so that river, sky, leaves and branches were all that could be seen.

In the summer Minnie liked to bring picnic parties here. When she was younger she sometimes took friends for a walk through the woods and led them to the boat-house as if by chance, throwing open the door triumphantly (just as they were feeling tired and wishing she would lead them home for lunch) to disclose a delicious meal laid out on a white table cloth and Rogers and the two footmen standing behind the chairs with just the right mixture of deference and shared pleasure in the guests’ surprise. The children came there too, to bathe or picnic or fish; in a long spell of fine weather the boys might be allowed to spend the night.

For a shooting lunch in late October the fire had to be lit and the place aired the day before; even so there was a slight smell of damp. Minnie loved the boat-house nonetheless. She hurried in ahead of the others, congratulating Rogers on the preparations, rearranging cushions and chrysanthemums, exclaiming, ‘It is pretty though, isn’t it? Olivia, Aline, you must admit it’s pretty. Don’t you love it?’

Yes, they said, they loved it.

A log fire was burning in the open fireplace (smoking a little, it had to be admitted, but not so as seriously to affect the eyes), a grandfather clock was ticking in one corner of the room, and round the walls were dark oak dressers with blue china on their shelves. Immediately in front of the fire were two handsome bronze dogs on which to rest the fire irons, and grouped around the fireplace were several basket chairs with cushions covered in the same flowered cretonne as the curtains. In the middle of the room was a long narrow refectory table laid for lunch and surrounded by Windsor wheelback chairs.

‘Just like the three bears!’ cried Aline.

‘Rather more than three,’ said Cicely. ‘And far too many Goldilocks.’