‘I didn’t imagine,’ he said, with a touch of spleen in his voice, ‘that you could be so contrary. Really, I’m quite displeased.’

‘I’m sorry. And I do realize that if you are displeased enough, you can forbid me the school and banish me from this house. Then I should just get a job in Selbury and buy a scooter like Miss Halstead’s and come here every evening and ride round and round the Green, just to prove that I wasn’t ashamed to show my face.’

To her surprise, he broke into hearty laughter. He laughed until he coughed and had to take out his handkerchief and wipe his eyes.

Dear Miss Mayfield. The thought of you on a scooter, vindicating your reputation . . . Really, you’ll be the death of me yet! And talking about “forbid” and “banish”. As though I would. When I said I was displeased, it was because I was disappointed. It seemed such a good scheme, beneficial all round. But if you feel so strongly about it, there’s no more to be said. You’re sure that you wouldn’t like some time to think it over?’

‘I’m positive.’

There was silence for a moment. Then he said:

‘Now, just to show you how altruistic I was being, I’ll tell you this. Yesterday I had a long letter from Mrs Halstead; her daughter, she said, was too shy to write. A vacancy has arisen in Selbury Grammar School. Miss Halstead would like to apply for it; Mrs Halstead would like her daughter to apply for it. Scooting, which is pleasant in summer, is, as Mrs Halstead points out, a very different thing in winter, and Miss Halstead has always been one to take cold easily. There were two pages of this, and the point when reached – well, you can guess.’

Miss Mayfield, who had faced with fortitude but little pleasure the prospect of playing second fiddle in her own school, said joyfully:

‘Miss Halstead doesn’t want to come back?’

He nodded. ‘And since you frown upon my plan, I shall take considerable pleasure in telephoning Mrs Halstead this evening and telling her that so far as I am concerned, Miss Halstead can go to . . . Selbury Grammar School. Shall I, at the same time, make an offer for the scooter?’

Conscientiously, Miss Mayfield joined in his laughter. But when she had seen him out and closed the door, she stood for a moment leaning her back against it, and her face was grave and bleak. She had won another round. But how many more to go?

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