‘In your advertisement, Canon Thorby, you made no mention of salary.’

‘That was deliberate. You see, I don’t hold with this newfangled notion that in order to obtain good people you must offer high salaries. That merely attracts the timeservers. People – more particularly those in occupations which might be called vocational – work best when they work for the love of the job. Isn’t that so?’

Exactly what she had feared!

‘That is partly true, like most generalizations. But I must be frank with you. I have a commitment. At Alchester I am paid the Burnham Scale for graduates, at a low level; my years in Africa didn’t count. In Walwyk, I suppose, my living expenses would be lower, and I should not have fares. I could manage with . . . perhaps fifty pounds less than I now earn. If I went lower than that, I should be acting selfishly.’

‘You sound as though you would like to come to us.’

‘I should indeed. From the moment when I read your advertisement. To live in the country . . . To be Head . . . Oh, I know,’ she said earnestly, ‘that towns like Alchester are necessary, economically, and someone has to live in them and teach in their schools, and I know most teachers have to be assistants and take orders. The truth is, I suppose that I am too old to adjust.’

A silly thing to say; but then, if he couldn’t pay what she needed, it didn’t matter. She must go back to Alchester, to Miss Stevens with her whims and experiments, which were never successful, to the noisy, overcrowded, often hostile classes.

‘I don’t think,’ Canon Thorby said, ‘that we shall fall out about money. I’m prepared to pay Burnham Scale salary for graduates, with the extra emolument for Headmistresses in country schools. I will take into consideration your twenty years in Africa. I also provide, free, a rather delightful little house, furnished. It once belonged to an aunt of mine, who left it to me, and I thought the best use to which I could put it would be to provide a comfortable, dignified home for anyone who was prepared to share our way of life and devote herself to teaching our children. You see, I am aware of the drawbacks. We’re very isolated. We have been cut off from the outer world for as long as fifteen days after a heavy snowfall or an exceptionally rainy season. At the best of times the nearest cinema is fourteen miles away, the nearest theatre twenty-eight. Our social life is limited and you will not find Intellectual company within a wide radius. It is – we might as well face it – a lonely, dedicated life. You’ve had a taste of that; you may desire a complete change.’

‘I have had that, in Alchester.’