The Changeling

The Treasure Hunt

BENEDICT HAD RETURNED AND Christmas was almost upon us. I had hoped I could take the children with me to Cornwall but this was not to be. Christmas was an important time in Manorleigh. There would be a great deal of entertaining at Manor Grange with special dinner parties as well as the usual celebrations. People who worked in the constituency would have to be invited. My stepfather would want his family around him at such a time for Christmas was an occasion when all the family should be together.

It was a great disappointment, for not only would I have loved to be with my grandparents, but Pedrek was there with his parents and grandparents; and I daresay they would be often at Cador.

It was very frustrating and I consoled myself with the fact that time was passing, and next Christmas we should be planning our wedding. So … I must be patient.

Miss Stringer was to join her family in the Cotswolds for three weeks. There would be no lessons during that time. “Hurrah!” said Belinda. Lucie joined in and they danced round the schoolroom singing: “No lessons for three weeks.”

“There will be so much to do for Christmas,” I reminded them, “that you will find yourselves fully occupied.”

It was to be a traditional Christmas. The great hall would be decorated with holly, ivy and bay. Besides the sprays of mistletoe, there were the old Christmas bushes—two hoops fastened at right angles and trimmed with evergreen leaves which were hung on the rafters; they served the same purpose as the mistletoe and were even called Kissing Bushes.

Belinda was very excited. She and Lucie were dashing about helping with the decorations, running into the kitchen to take a stir at the puddings which, decreed Mrs. Grant, the cook, should be stirred by everyone in the household, high and low.

So we all had a stir—apart from Benedict. I could not imagine anyone’s suggesting he should take part in such a procedure.

The smell of the boiling puddings permeated the kitchen and we all went down to listen to them bubbling away in the copper in the laundry house. Mrs. Emery said that all the staff should join in the tasting ceremony and the children were allowed to share in it too. This was indeed a ceremonial occasion when Mrs. Grant, like a priestess in some holy temple, served everyone with a mouthful from one of the small basins which contained a specimen of the rich mixture; and which we all declared was perfect.

Then there were the mince pies to be made and the Christmas cake to be iced with the words “Merry Christmas” and “God Bless This House” written on it in blue; and then this was placed in state on the kitchen table where all might inspect and admire it before it was put away.

It was all very simple and exciting; and I was glad to see Belinda looked happier than she had for some time; and what was most gratifying was that she seemed to want to please me. I said to Celeste that this incident, regrettable as it was at the time, might be a turning point.

“I think I am closer to her than I have ever been,” I said. “She has always seemed so overbearing, but, poor child, what she needs is love and tenderness.”

Celeste was inclined to agree with me.

I said: “She admires her father, I know. She is deeply hurt by his neglect. If only he would show a little interest in her it would make a world of difference, I am sure.”

“He seems to like Lucie more than he does her.”

“Lucie is easier to like perhaps.”

“That may be. But Belinda is his daughter.”

“Perhaps one day … one of us will be able to make him see …”

“Perhaps,” sighed Celeste.

I received letters from Cornwall. Pedrek had kept his promise to write once a week and I had kept mine to reply. So I knew exactly what was happening in Cornwall. He was getting on well at the Mining College. Working hard helped him to endure the separation. I tried to write amusingly about life in London and at Manor Grange, telling him of the political world and what it was like to be on the edge of it.

The day before Christmas Eve I received a batch of letters from Cornwall with gifts from everyone. There was a necklace of amethyst from my grandparents and a gold bracelet from Pedrek.

I kept the letter he sent with it.

Dearest Rebecca,

If only we could be together! I kept hoping that you would come for Christmas. So did we all. I have a confession to make. I have told them. I could not keep it to myself. They were talking about you and saying how they wished you were here … and somehow it came out.

We did say we wouldn’t … and I should have waited until we could tell them together … but if you could have seen their joy you would have been glad they knew. My mother and your grandmother hugged each other and I thought my grandparents were going to burst into tears … tears of absolute bliss. They all said it was what they had always hoped for and prayed for. And my grandfather said there was going to be such a wedding as had never been seen in Cornwall.

But they all think it is wise that we should wait until I am through with college. They said we are both very young and need a little time to prepare. I don’t agree. I’m just telling you what they said. I am just wishing the time away.

Oh, Rebecca, it would be wonderful if you were here. It would be such a happy Christmas. Your grandparents said you are certain to come down in the Spring, but that seems far away. But I suppose it will come in time and I must be patient until then. The only way I can do that is by telling myself that we shall be married and then together all the time.

My love to you … today, tomorrow and forever,

Pedrek

My grandmother had written:

My dear Rebecca,

Pedrek has just told us and I must write and tell you how happy that has made your grandfather and me. Pedrek was a little contrite. He said you had agreed not to tell yet. You wanted to wait until he was out of college … or almost. Don’t blame him. It slipped out. He was so happy and wanted to share that happiness with us.

If only you could have been here!

Your grandfather says he would not have wished anything else for you and that goes for me. You should have seen the Pencarrons. They are a dear, sentimental old pair and as you know Pedrek and his mother are the sun, moon and stars and the whole universe to them. They are such family people.

They are so happy about Pedrek’s going eventually into the mine and this of course has made everything quite blissful for them.

We drank your health and talked of you continually. Mrs. Pencarron is already working out what she will wear for the wedding as the bridegroom’s grandmama and Mr. P is wondering who shall be honoured with the order for the catering for the grand feast he has in mind. Then there are Pedrek’s parents. Morwenna is completely delighted and so is Justin. Morwenna says our families have always been close and she went on about the way the two of you were born in your stepfather’s grand house in that grim mining township and how close she and your dear mother always were. Oh, Rebecca, I am sure your mother would be delighted. Your happiness meant everything to her … as it does to us. Pedrek is a really good young man and we all love him dearly. It is wonderful.

Now to more mundane matters. Things in the Poldoreys go on much as usual. Mrs. Arkwright has given birth to twins—predicted of course by our wise Mrs. Polhenny. One of Joe Garth’s fishing boats was lost in a gale recently. All on board were saved, thank God, but the loss of the boat was a blow. Somebody thought she heard the bells of St. Branok recently. But that happens periodically, as you know. Mrs. Yeo and Miss Heathers had their usual fight over who should be in charge of church decorations for Christmas. Mrs. Polhenny still pursues her calling, fighting the good light and travelling round on her old bone-shaker. You would be amused to see her. She really is one of the sights of Poldorey.

It is such a disappointment that you are not with us. You must come in the Spring. That’s the best time really. But it would have been lovely to have you for Christmas—particularly now that Pedrek has broken this wonderful news.

All our love, darling,

Your loving and deprived (of your company, of course) Grandparents

They were lovely, heartwarming letters. I put them in the silver box which my mother had given me and I kept them in a drawer because I knew I should want to read them again and again.

A few days before Christmas Oliver Gerson arrived. I was surprised. I had heard that a business associate of Benedict’s would be spending Christmas at Manor Grange but Oliver’s name had not been mentioned.

I had been out riding with the girls which I did frequently. Miss Stringer had already left and that meant that I was even more frequently than usual in their company.

As we returned into the drive I saw a carriage at the door and Mr. Emery was standing there giving instructions for the gentleman’s luggage to be taken into the house.

Then he turned and I saw who it was.

“Mr. Gerson!” I cried.

Belinda surprised me. She leaped from her pony and ran to him. She stood before him, looking up and smiling. There could not have been a warmer welcome.

He took Belinda’s hand and solemnly kissed it. “What a pleasure it is to see you,” he said.

Then he walked to me and, taking my hand, kissed it in the same manner. He looked at Lucie. She held out her hand and received the same treatment. I had rarely seen such gracious manners.

He was gazing at me as he said: “I have been looking forward to this pleasure. I must confess I was apprehensive, fearing that you might have decided not to spend Christmas here.”

“We shall be here,” cried Belinda, jumping into the air.

“What fun that will be!” he replied. “Christmas in the country with the most delightful of companions.” He included us all in his smile.

“Are you going to stay for a long time?” asked Belinda.

“That will depend on how long my host wants me to.”

“Is your host my father?” asked Belinda a little blankly.

“Indeed he is.”

“Let’s go into the house, shall we?” I suggested.

The groom took our horses and we went into the hall. As we did so Benedict came down the stairs.

“Oh, there you are, Gerson,” he said. “They have your room ready. I’ll get one of them to take you up. It’s good to see you.”

“I am delighted to be here. These ladies have already made me feel welcome.”

“So I see …” said my stepfather vaguely. “Your bags will be taken up. Good journey?”

“Quite good, thanks.”

“I’d like to have a chat about things before dinner.”

“But of course.”

“Right.” He walked with Oliver Gerson across the hall. He seemed hardly to have noticed our presence.

I looked at Belinda. Her eyes were shining. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “Aren’t you pleased, Lucie? He’s going to be here for Christmas.”

“He’s very nice,” said Lucie.

“Of course he’s nice. He’s the nicest man I know.”

“You don’t really know him yet,” I reminded her.

“I do know him. I like him. I’m glad he’s here.”

She skipped up three stairs.

I looked at Lucie and laughed. “It’s clear that he has Belinda’s approval,” I said.

“She talks about him a lot. She says, he’s like one of those knights who did all sorts of daring things to win the King’s daughter.”

“Let’s hope she’s right,” I said.

When I look back it seems that that Christmas was dominated by Oliver Gerson. He devoted quite a lot of time to the children which I thought was kind of him. He seemed to understand Belinda and she was certainly happier in his company than I had known her to be before. She had become a normal fun-loving child. It proved to me that she craved attention and that her waywardness had been a method of calling attention to herself. The change in her was remarkable. Oliver Gerson was, for the greater part of the day, in my stepfather’s company. It was for that purpose, I supposed, that he had been invited to the house.

He told me that he was my stepfather’s righthand man.

“I knew that you were in business together,” I said. “It’s those clubs, isn’t it?”

“That and other things. I worked for your stepfather’s grandfather, you know.”

“Oh yes … Uncle Peter.”

“He was a wonderful man. Astute, knowledgeable and crafty as a fox.”

“Did you like working for him?”

“Immensely. It was a great adventure.”

“He is very much missed in the family although we all knew there was something rather shocking about what he was engaged in. Is it the same still?”

“Those who are shocked are envious of others’ success. The clubs provide a need for certain people. If they want to gamble why shouldn’t they? If they lose money it is their affair.”

“I believe there are other things besides gambling.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “No one is dragooned into attending. They use the clubs of their own free will. It is all legitimate business. There is nothing illegal about it.”

“Uncle Peter wanted to be a member of Parliament and there was some scandal about the clubs. It ruined his parliamentary career.”

“I know. It happened years ago. People’s ideas changed after the Consort’s death. It would have been different if it had happened now. It was the Prince who set out these rigid codes.”

“But might it not still be dangerous for my stepfather?”

“I think you can say he knows what he is doing.”

“My mother was very upset when she knew he had inherited the business. She wanted him to sell out.”

“He is too good a businessman to do that. How could he resist the chance of adding to his immense fortune?”

“Easily, I should have thought, as he has enough already.”

“You don’t understand the mind of a businessman, Rebecca.”

“I think family happiness comes before all that.”

He put his hand over mine. “ ‘Oh wise young judge,’ ” he quoted. “ ‘How I do honour thee.’ ”

“I am no Portia but I should have thought that was clear. My mother was very worried. It was just before she died.”

I pulled myself up sharply. I was trying to blame him for what had happened. I was telling myself that in his greed for more wealth he had worried her, weakened her so that when her ordeal came she was unable to face it.

It was nonsense. That had had nothing to do with her death.

“You see,” Oliver Gerson was saying, “he has a great flair for business. I gathered he did well in Australia before he acquired his goldmine. Didn’t he have men working for him?”

“Yes. My mother spoke of it to me many times. He found gold but not enough to make the fortune he had set out for but he was able to employ those men who despaired of ever doing so and wanted a regular wage. Several were working for him so there was more chance of finding gold on his patch.”

“You see what I mean about this flair for business? You can’t expect such people to take the easy way out just because it offers a more peaceful existence. His sort don’t want peace. They want excitement and adventure.”

“And you … you have this flair?”

“But, of course. But I have not had your stepfather’s good fortune … yet.”

“Well, I can only hope that it will come to you in time.”

“Needless to say, I fervently share that hope. But don’t worry about the business. I can assure you your stepfather will know how to steer our craft past the dangerous rocks.”

“You have a great admiration for him.”

“If you worked with him, so would you.”

When he was not with my stepfather he was with us.

He continued to make much of the children and they admired him. He had a way of treating them as adults, never stressing that he was reducing himself to their level but just as though he accepted them as grown-up intelligent beings simply because they were.

We often went riding together. I had never seen Belinda so happy. I was now convinced that she was a normal child who had for a time been warped by the indifference—and even resentment—of an unnatural father.

I was delighted to see the change in her and I encouraged Oliver Gerson to be with us. Not that he needed any encouragement. I realized that he had a flair for being amusing as well as that of which he had told me, for business. Conversation was always lighthearted and punctuated with laughter from the children … not so much the laughter of amusement as of sheer happiness.

He would devise games as we rode along. He always found something fresh with which to stimulate their interest, so the rides were especially enjoyable.

“A mark for the first one who spots a holly bush with at least ten berries.”

They giggled. Lucie cried: “There’s one.”

“It’s not a holly bush, is it, Mr. Gerson?” said Belinda.

“No … it’s some other thing … not holly. We ought to have your governess here to tell us what.”

“Oh, we don’t want her. She makes a lesson out of everything.”

“Well, sorry, Lucie, it’s not holly. Try again.”

Then it would be the first to see a grey horse.

Thus a spirit of competition was added to the rides and both children enjoyed it.

We all knew what we should do on the morning of Christmas Day. There would be church and then the carol singers would come. Hot punch and fairy cakes would be distributed to them and then there would be midday dinner in the great hall when we would have several guests. The children would be at a table near the screens presided over by Leah, and the meal would be served in the traditional manner, the dishes carried in with a certain ceremony.

Afterwards the grown-ups would be a little somnolent and there would be desultory conversation and some dozing. There would be tea at five o’clock and a buffet supper later. Then the guests who were staying at the house would retire to their rooms and the others leave the house. The children would be allowed to stay up until nine o’clock as a concession to the day.

Oliver Gerson said to me: “What a great deal of preparation for something which has to be over almost as soon as it has begun. I am afraid our two are going to wonder what to do while the grown-ups are resting. We should think up some entertainment for them.”

“What an excellent idea. It was different at Cador. There always seemed something to do.”

“We must make something to do here. I thought of a treasure hunt.”

“How? Where?”

“It would have to be in the garden. We could not have them prowling about the house when people are trying to sleep.”

“Suppose it rains or snows?”

“Well then, it would have to be called off or we should have to think of some other indoor pastime.”

“What sort of treasure hunt?”

“Oh … clues … about six, I think. Little couplets, one leading to another. All very simple.”

“It sounds wonderful. Who’ll do the couplets?”

“We shall. I shall need your help to tell me the right places in the garden.”

“It’s a wonderful idea.”

“Of course. It’s mine.”

We laughed together.

“How many children will there be?” he asked.

“Oh, six … maybe seven. There are the agent’s two and three belonging to those indefatigable workers and our two.”

“That’s an ideal number. And we’ll have a prize for the winner. There must be a prize … some goal to work for.”

“What prize?”

“You and I will go to the village today and buy a splendid box of chocolates. Big … and gaudy … so that it looks like a worthwhile prize.”

“I am sure they will all love it.”

“It will dispense with the boredom of having to be quiet in a houseful of somnolent guests.”

“Are you sure you won’t be too somnolent to conduct affairs?”

“I? Never! I shall be as wide awake as you will.”

“I am glad you thought of it. They will be thrilled. It will make an exciting Christmas Day for them.”

“Well, let’s get to work. First the clues. We’ll hide ourselves away. What about the summerhouse? It will be warm in there with the door shut and they won’t think of looking for us there.”

“All right. Now do you mean?”

“Well, we shall have to get busy and this afternoon we shall go into the village for the prize.”

It was great fun in the summerhouse. Together we worked on six simple clues and distributed them in appropriate parts of the garden. Then we went into the village and bought a large box of chocolates tied up with red ribbon.

When we returned Lucie and Belinda, who were in the garden, came rushing up to us. Belinda caught Oliver Gerson’s arm.

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

“Ah,” said Oliver, looking mysterious. “On secret business.”

“What secret business? And what’s that?”

He put his fingers to his lips and smiled at me secretively.

Lucie hung on my arm. “What is it, Rebecca?” she pleaded.

“This,” said Oliver, holding up the parcel, “is the prize.”

“What prize? What prize?” shrieked Belinda.

“Shall we tell them?” asked Oliver, looking at me.

“I think so,” I replied judiciously. “It’s about time they knew.”

Belinda was jumping up and down, unable to contain her excitement.

Oliver said: “On Christmas Day … after the feast … there is going to be a treasure hunt.”

“Treasure … what treasure?”

“Miss Rebecca and I have planned it for you.”

“For us?” cried Lucie, as excited as Belinda.

“For you and all the children who are here. There will be others so there will be fierce competition.”

“Tell!” demanded Belinda.

“This, as I told you, is the prize … the treasure, you might say. The one who wins it will bring us the clues. We shall give you one to start with and then you will go off and search for the other five. They are all in the garden. When you have them you bring them to us … that is to Miss Rebecca and to me. We shall be in the summerhouse waiting for the first one to come in. When she … or perhaps he … as there will be other children … arrives with the six then the treasure will be handed over.”

“What a lovely game,” said Belinda. “You do think of the loveliest games, Mr. Gerson.”

“It is my pleasure in life to please you, Miss Belinda.”

“And me?” asked Lucie.

“You too, Miss Lucie … and Miss Rebecca, of course … and all the others who will join us on Christmas Day.”

“When can we have the clues?” asked Belinda.

“Not until you are all assembled. This has to be fair, you know.”

They talked about the treasure hunt for the rest of the day. There was no doubt that it had been a good idea.

“Now we have to pray for a fine afternoon,” I said. “Disappointment would indeed be bitter if the weather put an end to the treasure hunt.”

Christmas Day dawned dry but dull. There was a dampness in the air, but we hoped that the rain would hold off. At least it was not particularly cold.

We all went to the church in the morning and as soon as we were back the carol singers came. “The First Noël,” “The Holly and the Ivy,” “The Twelve Days of Christmas” and “O Come All Ye Faithful”—it was always moving to hear the well-loved words and music.

After the performance the singers came into the hall; my stepfather made a little speech of thanks; and all were served with hot punch and mince pies, which were handed round by the children, supervised by Celeste.

After that we dined … the children at the small table with Leah, and the rest of us at the great oak one in the center of the hall. There was a great deal of laughter. I watched my stepfather at the head of the table being very charming to his guests and I asked myself: Why cannot he be like that with his family? Celeste, at the other end of the table, was trying to do what was expected of her. I found myself next to Oliver Gerson. I think he had arranged that, but I was not displeased. It meant that I could enjoy a certain amount of lighthearted conversation.

Every now and then he would glance over to the little table. I saw him catch Belinda’s eye and lift his hand in acknowledgment. A smile immediately lightened her face. I warmed towards him. He had succeeded admirably in making hers a happy Christmas.

How different from my stepfather who was so completely immersed in his own ambitions that he had no time to spare for others.

I said: “It looks as though all is set fair this afternoon.”

“It must be. Otherwise we should have to devise some other entertainment.”

“It must keep fine. There is so much enthusiasm for the treasure hunt. Belinda and Lucie had been talking of nothing else since they heard of it. Even the excitement of Christmas gifts has taken second place.”

The meal seemed to go on for a long time but at last it was over.

All the children had been told of the arranged treasure hunt and were all eager to be there.

“It’s always a trial,” Mrs. Emery had said, “knowing what to do with them. They’re wide awake and everyone else is half asleep. It’s a fine way of getting them from under our feet. That Mr. Gerson knows what’s what. To see him with those two girls makes you think he should have some of his own.”

At last they were assembled and Oliver gave them the first clue.

He told them: “Miss Rebecca and I will be in the summerhouse. The first one who brings us the six clues will be presented with the mystery treasure. Here it is.” He held up the parcel which was tied up with red ribbon.

“We shall need six little pieces of paper like this one. Now … wait for the signal. Ready. Steady. Go!”

As we made our way to the summerhouse I said to him: “Don’t you think Belinda and Lucie have an unfair advantage? They know the garden so much better than the others.”

“Life is full of unfair advantages,” he replied. “It is impossible to avoid them.”

“Well, I suppose one or two others might be a little older. I know William Arlott is.”

“There, you see. One has it one way … one another.”

There were two chairs in the summerhouse and we seated ourselves.

“Do you think we shall wait long?” I asked.

“No. The clues were easy. Someone will triumph before long, never fear.”

“Belinda desperately wants to.”

“I hope she does,” he said. “Poor child.”

“You say that with real feeling.”

“She’s an interesting little girl. Bright too … oh, very bright. She is not entirely happy, is she?”

“No. She is often very difficult.”

He nodded.

“But,” I went on, “she is better lately. You have done a lot for her.”

“I think she misses her parents.”

“Yes. It is sad when a child is left as she has been. The most important person in the world to a child is its mother and she lost hers before she knew her.”

“What of Leah?”

“There couldn’t be anyone better in the circumstances. She has done everything for the child. I think she may have indulged her too much. Sometimes I’m worried about Lucie because there is a decided preference …”

“Lucie is a friendly child, isn’t she? Does it worry her?”

“I don’t know. Children are so secretive about some things. They don’t always tell you their innermost thoughts. Belinda reminds her now and then that she is the daughter of the house. Lucie’s birth was mysterious. Her mother was half crazy and no one knows who her father was.”

“And strangest of all … you adopted her.”

“It was my grandparents actually. I was only about fifteen at the time. But I just had this conviction that I couldn’t leave her. I could not have done it, of course, if my grandparents had not been so good. If it had not been possible for me to take Lucie with me they would have looked after her at Cador. But when we came to London my stepfather made no objection to her being with us … and she has been here ever since.”

“If there had been a reason for a child’s lack of feeling of security, one would have thought Lucie might have felt it rather than Belinda.”

“Lucie accepts what she is. She knew that she came into the family in an unconventional way but she accepts me as a mother-sister as a family relationship, I am sure; and she and Belinda are as close as two sisters. There are naturally occasional quarrels, but fundamentally they are fond of each other.”

He took my hand and held it tightly: “I think it was wonderful of you to take the child in,” he said.

“I had a compulsion to do so, as I told you.”

“Yes, you must have had.”

“And I have never regretted it.”

“And if you marry …?”

“I would never marry unless my husband accepted the child.”

I smiled, thinking of Pedrek who understood my feelings. My thoughts had slipped away to the future. We should be so happy. They would all understand about Lucie. There would be no problem as there would certainly be if I had contemplated marrying someone else.

The door was flung open. Oliver released my hand which he was still holding. Belinda stood there.

“You have brought me the clues and you have come to claim the treasure,” said Oliver.

She shook her head. She was near to tears.

“I have five,” she said. “I can’t find the last one. I’ve looked everywhere. Lucie’s nearly there … I want the treasure. It ought to be mine. This is my house.”

“That’s nothing to do with it,” I told her. “This is a game and you have to win fairly. You must not be a bad loser.”

Oliver Gerson held out his hand and she went and leaned against him. He opened her clenched fingers and took out the screwed-up pieces of paper.

“It’s the last one,” she said in heartbroken tones. “I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What does it say on number five?” he asked. He read aloud:

“‘Over the water you must seek

Beside the winged and noble Greek.’ ”

He took her by the shoulders and she watched his lips expectantly.

“You’re not thinking hard enough,” he said. “You know where the water is, don’t you?”

She shook her head.

“Who is the noble Greek?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Who’s got wings on his heels?”

She looked blank.

“Where do the water lilies grow?”

“On the pond.”

“Well, isn’t that water, and what’s above it? The statue, I mean?”

Her eyes widened with joy.

“Well, you know where to find it. So … go and get it.”

When she had gone I said: “That’s cheating. You practically told her.”

“I know.”

“But is isn’t fair to the others.”

“They won’t know.”

“But … Mr. Gerson …”

“Do you think you could call me Oliver? It’s quite a distinguished name really. Oliver Goldsmith, Oliver Cromwell … Oliver Gerson.”

“You’re straying from the point. You cheated.”

“I had to.”

Belinda came rushing into the summerhouse, proudly waving the six clues. “I’ve found them. I’ve found them. I’ve won the treasure.”

He took the pieces of paper from her hand.

“All present and correct,” he said. “You are the first. You have won the treasure. Now we must call in the others and they must witness the presentation.”

We came out of the summerhouse. I was still shaken by what he had done.

He called: “Children of the Treasure Hunt, the treasure has been found. All assemble at the summerhouse.”

Belinda was jumping up and down with glee. Lucie was already running up.

“I nearly had it,” she told me. “I was on the last one.”

The others arrived.

Oliver Gerson lifted the beribboned parcel aloft and cried: “The hunt is over. Belinda is the triumphant one. Miss Belinda Lansdon, the treasure is yours.”

He put the parcel into her hands. Her face expressed her delight. She put the parcel into Lucie’s hands and for a moment I thought she was giving it over to her. But all she wanted to do was put her arms round Oliver and hug him; she kissed him heartily when he stooped to her.

Then she took the parcel from Lucie and held it tightly in her arms.

Never had I seen such joy on her face before. Oliver Gerson had given Belinda the happiest Christmas she had ever known.

For some time Belinda was in a state of bliss. Long after the chocolates were eaten the box, complete with red ribbons, was given a place of honor in the nursery and I often saw Belinda’s eyes rest on it, alight with loving memory.

Oliver Gerson was her hero. It did not seem to occur to her that the method by which she had won the trophy was not strictly honorable. She had won it and that was all that mattered. She may have been helped to it by Oliver Gerson but that only endeared him to her the more. He was, to her, the perfect knight.

I talked to him about the treasure hunt the very next day. I was in the garden when he joined me.

He said: “You are looking at me a little reproachfully. Are you still thinking of the treasure hunt?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Come and sit awhile in the summerhouse. I want to talk and we shan’t be interrupted there.”

As we sat down he said: “Yes, it was not strictly fair, was it? It wasn’t according to ethics. But I am sorry for the child. She interests me. I think she has suffered considerably.”

“All she wants is a normal happy life … with parents who love her.”

“She has lost her mother at birth and her father cannot forgive her for coming into the world at the cost of his wife’s life. It is not the first time such a situation has arisen.”

“It is so unfair to the child. Sometimes I hate him for what he has done to Belinda.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm. He just wants to forget … and she doesn’t help him

“But it is years since it happened.”

“I know. There’s nothing we can do about him … but we can help the child, and that is what I am trying to do.”

“You are succeeding. You have made her very happy, but she should not be led to believe that she can get what she wants by cheating.”

“It is often the case in real life.”

“That may be and it has to be deplored. At least it is not the way a child should be taught. It is really telling her that this is the way to succeed.”

“You are a lady of great virtue, I see.”

“That’s not the point. We are dealing with a child’s impressionable mind. She thinks you are wonderful and what you do will seem to her right. I just feel that—small matter as it may seem to you—it was the wrong way to deal with it.”

“Then I offer my humble apologies to you but I think there are times when the rules can be stretched for the sake of a child’s happiness.”

“Happiness? Every one of those children would have been happy to win. It was a game … a test … a competition … and one of them was helped to the winning post.”

“I give you my word that I will not repeat my folly, and if I had known how you would feel, I should never have done it in the first place. But she so desperately wanted to win … and, poor child, she has her troubles and I just thought I would let her have this small triumph.”

“You are very kind and I expect I am making a fuss about something which is not of great importance.”

“I know how you feel and you are right, of course, and I am wrong … but I was overcome by my feelings for the child.”

“You have done a great deal to help her. I thank you for that. It has given her the happiest Christmas she has ever known. So let us say no more. I expect I am carping a bit.”

“You would never carp. You are much too sweet and kind … and delightful in every way.”

I began to feel a trifle uneasy, for he had brought his chair closer to mine.

“Rebecca,” he went on, “I have been trying to tell you something for a long time.”

“Trying?” I said.

“Trying to choose the right moment and feeling afraid that I might choose the wrong one and speak too soon.”

“What are you trying to tell me?”

“Haven’t you guessed? You know how I feel about you.”

I drew back and looked at him steadily. He smiled at me very tenderly.

“I love you, Rebecca,” he said. “I did from the moment I saw you. I know we haven’t known each other long but I knew at once. It was a sort of rapport. Your sweetness and kindness to the children … your anxieties about Belinda … and taking in that other child, Lucie. It shows me that you are indeed a very special person. I have hoped and dreamed. I can see us together … all of us. You need have no qualms in that direction. Rebecca, I love you and want you to marry me.”

“Don’t say any more,” I interrupted. “I am flattered and honored. I do regard you very highly. But I could not marry you.”

“I have spoken too soon. That was what I feared I might do. Forgive me, Rebecca. Let us go on as we were. Think about it and we’ll talk later.”

“No, Oliver, that isn’t any good. As a matter of fact I am going to marry someone else.”

He stared at me in dismay.

“There is a secret understanding between us. It is not at all sudden. We’ve known each other all our lives and it is something which is … well … inevitable. It was arranged only a little while ago … at the beginning of the season. So you see …”

“Yes,” he said soberly, “I see.”

“I am sorry, Oliver. I do like you and I appreciate what you have done for Belinda. I shall never forget that.”

“Perhaps I hoped for too much.”

I shook my head. “If I had been free … if it hadn’t been the way it is …”

“This is definite, is it?”

“Yes.”

“And you love this man?”

“Absolutely.”

“Without any doubts?”

“Yes, without any doubts.”

“And yet it is a secret? Is that because your family do not approve?”

“Oh no … they approve entirely.”

“Your stepfather …?”

“Oh … no … not him. He doesn’t know. I should not take any notice of him for I don’t regard him as family. I mean my grandparents who brought me up … and his people. They are great friends and are delighted.”

“So they all know and your stepfather does not?”

I nodded. “We can’t be married for another year … then everybody will know.”

He took my hand and kissed it. “There is nothing I can do but wish you all the happiness you deserve.”

“Thank you, Oliver. It is good of you to be so understanding.”

The door of the summerhouse burst open and Belinda and Lucie were standing there.

“We’ve been looking all over the place for you,” scolded Belinda. “Haven’t we, Lucie?”

“We have been right round the garden and then Belinda said, ‘What about the summerhouse? Perhaps they’re in there, doing new clues for another treasure hunt.’ ”

“No,” said Oliver. “We were not doing that. One treasure hunt is enough for one Christmas. Familiarity breeds contempt. Miss Rebecca and I were just having a little chat.”

“It seemed a serious sort of chat,” said Belinda. “When are we going to ride?”

“Now if you wish,” said Oliver, turning to me. “If that is all right for you?”

“Yes, it is,” I said.

“What shall we look for?” demanded Belinda. “We looked for brown horses last time.”

“It will be black this time,” said Oliver. “They will be hard to find.”

“Black horses, black horses,” cried Belinda. “I’ll find one. Come on. Don’t waste time.”

She went to Oliver and put her arm through his.

Belinda came to my room that evening. It was just before their bedtime and she would soon be having her glass of milk and biscuits before washing her teeth and going to bed. She was already undressed and in her dressing gown and slippers. I was surprised to see her but felt a thrill of gratification that she had shown a desire to be with me. Our relationship had certainly undergone a change and that gave me great pleasure.

“How nice of you to come and see me, Belinda,” I said. “I see you are almost ready for bed.”

“Leah will bring in the milk soon.”

“Yes. Did you want to tell me something?”

She was silent for a few seconds, then she burst out: “You’re going to marry Oliver, aren’t you?”

“No,” I said.

“I think he is going to ask you. He likes you a lot.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“The way he looks at you and smiles when he talks. He’s always talking about you.”

“You have become very observant, Belinda.”

“I know about these things and I know he wants to marry you. I want him to.”

“Why?”

“Because I could come and live with you. We could leave here and be in his house. You and I, Lucie and Oliver. We could have games and treasure hunts all the time.”

“Life is not all games and treasure hunts, you know.”

“It’s always fun with him. I think it would be lovely. The four of us … and we could take Leah, of course.”

“Before you make too many arrangements, Belinda, I must tell you that I am not going to marry him.”

“He will ask you to.”

“Two people have to want to marry before they do.”

“He’ll ask. I thought he was asking you in the summerhouse when we came in. We should have waited and then you could have announced it.”

“Listen, Belinda. I know you like him very much and would relish him as a brother-in-law but life doesn’t work out as smoothly as that. We can’t always have what we want, especially if it involves other people. I am not going to marry him.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to marry him.”

“Everyone wants to marry when they get old.”

“How can you know?”

“Well, they talk about it. It’s what you have to do when you get old.”

“You don’t have to. And I am not going to marry Mr. Gerson.”

“But he wants to marry you.”

“How do you know?”

“I can tell.”

“Then you are very wise.”

“You are not planning to marry someone else, are you?”

I hesitated a moment too long and she was very perceptive.

“I believe you want to,” she said accusingly.

“Look, Belinda, you don’t know anything about these things. I am not going to marry Mr. Gerson.”

“But why not? It would be wonderful. If you don’t, it will spoil everything. We could all be together. It would be such fun.”

She looked as though she were going to burst into tears. I put my arms round her.

“Things don’t always work out as people want them to. People marry because they believe they have found the one and only person with whom they can live happily. You’ll understand one day. Now, go and have your milk. It will be getting cold.”

Her face hardened and she flounced out of the room.

I asked myself: Why did I think she had changed? She wants everything her own way … even my marriage!