Helena was very excited because she was going to one of the State balls which were being given in honour of the coronation.
“I’m sorry you can’t come, Annora,” she said.
I smiled. Not long ago she would have been congratulating me because I did not have to go.
She had a new rose pink dress and she looked prettier than I had ever seen her look before. It was not so much rose pink which suited her as happiness.
I watched her set off with her parents and Peterkin. I knew that John Milward would be at the ball. I hoped he would soon speak to his father. The long wait seemed to me to be a little ominous. I supposed it all depended on how much they needed money and whether Helena’s father was rich enough to supply a settlement which would be satisfactory to them. Yes, indeed, it was quite a sordid transaction or would have been except for the love of the two central characters.
Joe called with his sister Frances. I was delighted to see them.
“I thought you would have gone to the ball,” I said to Joe.
“My parents are there. They’ll represent the family. It wasn’t exactly a royal command tonight.”
Frances said she had no time for such occasions. She was in London to see if she could get a firm of tailors to pay their buttonhole-makers more money.
“I thought with all this euphoria about the new reign and coronation they might be in a generous mood.”
“And are they?” asked Joe.
“Not a bit of it. I’ll probably have to resort to threats. Expose them in the press or something like that.”
“You will see that my sister is a very militant lady,” said Joe to me.
“You are coming to see us one day, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I am planning to bring her along next week,” Joe told her.
“Oh good. Bring Peterkin. He shows real interest. This is a lovely house, isn’t it? Such large rooms. Just what I need.”
Joe said to me: “Frances is looking for new premises.”
“We’re very cramped. If I had another house …”
“What about the money?” asked Joe.
“Father is very generous. I could get him to make a subscription and lobby some of the M.P.s. Many of them declare their concern for the poor. But their sympathy does not always go deep enough to reach their pockets.”
“I expect your father has been very helpful,” I said.
“We couldn’t have got very far without him. How many rooms are there in this house?”
“You couldn’t afford anything like this,” cried Joe.
“Not in this neighbourhood—but it wouldn’t be much use here anyway. I’m interested in all houses at the moment.”
“Would you like to see over this one?”
“I’d love that,” said Frances.
So I showed them the house. She said: “What I could do with this!”
We had come to the very top. There was one room which was reached by a short staircase.
“What’s up there?” asked Frances.
“That’s my uncle’s study. It’s out of bounds. No one is allowed up there. Only my Aunt Amaryllis goes in to clean it.”
“She cleans it!”
“Yes. He won’t allow anyone else to go in. He says servants disturb things. Only Aunt Amaryllis is allowed in. She goes twice a week to clean it.”
“How very odd! There must be something very important up there.”
“Oh, it is only his files and papers and things. It’s always kept locked. Along here are the attics … the servants’ quarters.”
We went downstairs and were soon talking of the coronation and what difference a new queen would make to the country.
I was awake when Helena came in from the ball.
I sat up in bed and looked at her. She was positively radiant.
“Well,” I said.
“Everything was wonderful. The Duke and Duchess were there. They received me most graciously. Papa and Mama were with them. They are all delighted. It’s all right, Annora. It’s settled. I’m officially engaged to John. It will be announced in the papers in a day or so. I think there’ll be an early wedding. It was hinted that there would be … as soon as all the settlements and things have been arranged. Annora, you must stay for my wedding.”
“How exciting! It is like a fairy story.”
“The ugly duckling who turned into a swan.”
“No, the princess who didn’t know how beautiful she was until her lover came and told her so.”
“Oh. Annora, you say the nicest things. I’m glad you’re here. You’ve brought me luck.”
“What rubbish! You brought it all on yourself … you and your John. Now there is only one thing for you to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Live happy ever after.”
“I shall never get to sleep tonight. I don’t want to. I just want to lie here thinking about it.”
There was not much sleep for me either. I lay there listening to her telling it again … the arrival, the gracious reception from the Duke and Duchess, and everyone showing approval of the most wonderful match that ever was.
I did not get to see Frances Cresswell’s Mission then because the blow fell before that could be arranged.
It was two days after the coronation ball. When I went down to breakfast Amaryllis was there with Peterkin. They were absorbed in the morning papers.
“I wonder who it can possibly be,” Aunt Amaryllis was saying.
“It says a prominent and highly respected politician.”
“I daresay his name will soon be revealed.”
“They’ll withhold it for a while to make it more tantalising. I wonder if Papa has any idea.”
“He wouldn’t know anything about a man like that.”
“What is it all about?” I asked.
Peterkin, who was helping himself from the sideboard at that moment, said: “A real scandal. Someone is in deep trouble. What are you having, Annora? This ham is good.”
“Thanks,” I said.
He set a plate before me.
“The papers are full of it. It happened last night. This fellow has been caught with a woman of a very dubious reputation. There was a brawl in her room and another fellow … he said he was her husband … attacked him. The police were called and they were all arrested.”
“Who could it be?”
“We shall know in time.”
“I hate this sort of thing,” said Aunt Amaryllis. “It’s so bad for everyone.”
“I daresay the man in the case hates it more than you do, Mama,” said Peterkin.
“It will distress your father. It must be someone he knows of … for it says a well-known politician.”
“The seamy side of life shows itself sometime,” said Peterkin. “By the way, Annora, what about Wednesday for our trip to Frances’s Mission?”
“That will suit me very well.”
It was later in the day when the papers revealed the name of the man about whom, by this time, everyone was talking.
I heard the paper boys calling out in the streets and ran downstairs to hear what they were saying. One of the servants was already there. He was carrying a paper and his eyes looked as though they were ready to pop out of his head.
“What is it?” I cried.
“They’ve named him, miss. Would you believe it …”
“Who? Who?” I demanded.
“It’s Mr. Joseph Cresswell.”
I could not believe it. It could not possibly be true. There must be a mistake.
Aunt Amaryllis was very upset. She kept saying: “It’s a misprint. They have the wrong name. Not that nice, kind, clever Mr. Cresswell. It must be another Cresswell.”