the woman received in polite silence. Hester blushed for the condescension of it, and then realized it had been a way of life with little substantial variation for over a thousand years, and both parties were comfortable with its familiarity; and she had nothing more certain to put in its place.
Rosamond spoke with the eldest girl, and took the wide pink ribbon off her own hat and gave it to her, tying it around the child's hair to her shy delight.
Menard stood patiently by the horse, talking to it in a low voice for a few moments, then falling into a comfortable silence. The sunlight on his face showed the fine lines of anxiety around his eyes and mouth, and the deeper marks of pain. Here in the rich land with its great trees, the wind and the fertile earth he was relaxed, and Hester saw a glimpse of a quite different man from the stolid, resentful second son he appeared at Shelburne Hall. She wondered if Fabia had ever allowed herself to see it. Or was the laughing charm of Joscelin always in its light?
The second call was similar in essence, although the family was composed of an elderly woman with no teeth and an old man who was either drunk or had suffered some seizure which impaired both his speech and his movement.
Fabia spoke to him briskly with words of impersonal encouragement, which he ignored, making a face at her when her back was turned, and the old woman bobbed a curtsy, accepted two jars of lemon curd, and once again they climbed into the trap and were on their way.
Menard left them to go out into the fields, high with ripe corn, the reapers already digging the sickles deep, the sun hot on their backs, arms burned, sweat running freely. There was much talk of weather, time, the quarter of the wind, and when the rain would break. The smell of the grain and the broken straw in the heat was one of the sweetest things Hester had ever known. She stood in the brilliant light with her face lifted to the sky, the heat tingling on her skin, and gazed across the dark gold of the land-and thought of those who had been willing to die for it-and prayed that the heirs to so much treasured it deeply enough, to see it with the body and with the heart as well.
Luncheon was another matter altogether. They were received courteously enough until General Wadham saw Hester, then his florid face stiffened and his manner became exaggeratedly formal.
'Good morning, Miss Latterly. How good of you to call. Ursula will be delighted that you are able to join us for luncheon.'
'Thank you, sir,' she replied equally gravely. 'You are very generous.'
Ursula did not look particularly delighted to see them at all, and was unable to hide her chagrin that Menard had seen fit to be out with the harvesters instead of here at the dining room table.
Luncheon was a light meal: poached river fish with caper sauce, cold game pie and vegetables, then a sorbet and a selection of fruit, followed by an excellent Stilton cheese.
General Wadham had obviously neither forgotten nor forgiven his rout by Hester on their previous meeting. His chill, rather glassy eye met hers over the cruet sets a number of times before he actually joined battle in a lull between Fabia's comments on the roses and Ursula's speculations as to whether Mr. Danbury would marry Miss Fothergill or Miss Ames.
'Miss Ames is a fine young woman,' the general remarked, looking at Hester. 'Most accomplished horsewoman, rides to hounds like a man. Courage. And handsome too, dashed handsome.' He looked at Hester's dark green dress sourly. 'Grandfather died in the Peninsular War-at Corunna-1810. Don't suppose you were there too, were you, Miss Latterly? Bit before your time, eh?' He smiled, as if he had intended it to be good-natured.
'1809,' Hester corrected him. 'It was before Talavera and after Vimiero and the Convention of Cintra. Otherwise you are perfectly correct-I was not there.'
The general's face was scarlet. He swallowed a fish bone and choked into his napkin.
Fabia, white with fury, passed him a glass of water.
Hester, knowing better, removed it instantly and replaced it with bread.
The general took the bread and the bone was satisfactorily coated with it and passed down his throat.
'Thank you,' he said freezingly, and then took the water also.
'I am happy to be of assistance,' Hester replied sweetly. 'It is most unpleasant to swallow a bone, and so easily done, even in the best of fish-and this is delicious.'
Fabia muttered something blasphemous and inaudible under her breath and Rosamond launched into a sudden and overenthusiastic recollection of the Vicar's midsummer garden party.
Afterwards, when Fabia had elected to remain with Ursula and the general, and Rosamond hurried Hester out to the trap to resume their visiting of the poor, she whispered to her rapidly and with a little self- consciousness.
'That was awful. Sometimes you remind me of Josce-lin. He used to make me laugh like that.'
'I didn't notice you laughing,' Hester said honestly, climbing up into the trap after her and forgetting to arrange her skirts.
'Of course not.' Rosamond took the reins and slapped the horse forward. 'It would never do to be seen. You will come again some time, won't you?'
'I am not at all sure I shall be asked,' Hester said ruefully.
'Yes you will-Aunt Callandra will ask you. She likes you very much-and I think sometimes she gets bored with us here. Did you know Colonel Daviot?'
'No.' For the first time Hester regretted that she had not. She had seen his portrait, but that was all; he had been a stocky, upright man with a strong-featured face, full of wit and temper. 'No, I didn't.'
Rosamond urged the horse faster and they careered along the track, the wheels bouncing over the ridges.
'He was very charming,' she said, watching ahead. 'Sometimes. He had a great laugh when he was happy-he also had a filthy temper and was terribly bossy-even with Aunt Callandra. He was always interfering, telling her how she ought to do everything-when he got the whim for it. Then he would forget about whatever it was, and leave her to clear up the mess.'
She reined in the horse a little, getting it under better control.
'But he was very generous,' she added. 'He never betrayed a friend's confidence. And the best horseman I ever saw-far better than either Menard or Lovel-and far better than General Wadham.' Her hair was coming undone in the wind, and she ignored it. She giggled happily. 'They couldn't bear each other.'
It opened up an understanding of Callandra that Hester had never imagined before-a loneliness, and a freedom which explained why she had never entertained the idea of remarriage. Who could follow such a highly individual man? And perhaps also her independence had become more precious as she became more used to its pleasures. And perhaps also there had been more unhappiness there than Hester had imagined in her swift and rather shallow judgments?
She smiled and made some acknowledgment of having heard Rosamond's remark, then changed the subject. They arrived at the small hamlet where their further visiting was to be conducted, and it was late in the afternoon, hot and vividly blue and gold as they returned through the heavy fields past the reapers, whose backs were still bent, arms bare. Hester was glad of the breeze of their movement and passing beneath the huge shade trees that leaned over the narrow road was a pleasure. There was no sound but the thud of the horse's hooves, the hiss of the wheels and the occasional bird song. The light gleamed pale on the straw stalks where the laborers had already passed, and darker on the ungathered heads. A few faint clouds, frail as spun floss, drifted across the horizon.
Hester looked at Rosamond's hands on the reins and her quiet, tense face, and wondered if she saw the timeless beauty of it, or only the unceasing sameness, but it was a question she could not ask.
Hester Spent the evening with Callandra in her rooms and did not dine with the family, but she took breakfast in the main dining room the following morning and Rosamond greeted her with evident pleasure.
'Would you like to see my son?' she invited with a faint blush for her assumption, and her vulnerability.
'Of course I would,' Hester answered immediately; it was the only possible thing to say. 'I cannot think of anything nicer.' Indeed that was probably true. She was not looking forward to her next encounter with Fabia and she certainly did not wish to do any more visiting with General Wadham, any more 'good works' among those whom Fabia considered 'the deserving poor,' nor to walk in the park again where she might meet that peculiarly offensive policeman. His remarks had been impertinent, and really very unjust. 'It will make a beautiful beginning to
