Midsummer's Eve

We had a little music afterwards. Helena sang and I played a few pieces on the piano with Joe turning over the music for me.

I thought how creditable it was of both Uncle Peter and Mr. Cresswell, with this important post coming up which was going to mean so much to the one who held it-to be so friendly with no sign of bitterness between them.

There was some talk about the Cresswells' country home in Surrey. Mrs. Cresswell said it was always full of young people at the week-end. The Cresswells had a large family-three girls and three boys. Joe was one of the younger ones.

Mrs. Cresswell must have noticed how well I was getting along with Joe for she said: "You must visit us one week-end, Miss Cadorson. Do ... before you go back to Cornwall.”

"It would have to be soon," said Aunt Amaryllis. "Sir Jake is a man who makes quick decisions. He could well arrive next week and declare they must all go back to Cornwall to prepare to go to Australia.”

"Australia," said Joe. "That's interesting.”

"My father has some property there. He was there once ... a long time ago.”

Aunt Amaryllis looked faintly uneasy and Uncle Peter amused.

"It will be tremendously exciting," said Joe.

"Well, we must fix this visit soon," said Mrs. Cresswell. "What about next week-end?”

I looked at Aunt Amaryllis. "Why not?" she said. "If you would like that, Annora.”

"I should very much," I said.

"Of course," went on Mrs. Cresswell, "Helena and Peterkin must come with you.”

So it was arranged.

I saw Joe quite frequently, even before the week-end. There was Bother meeting in the Park when he appeared with John Milward. Helena was delighted. She felt she was a connoisseur of romance and she scented one between Joe and me.

I did not want to go as far as that. I liked Joe. But I could not think of him without seeing Rolf. I compared them and, charming as Joe was, he did not stand up well to the comparison. I suppose it was because when I was young I had set Rolf up as an ideal. He had seemed incomparable; and in spite of everything he remained so. There was a certain power about him which, I supposed, was the essence of masculinity. My father had it; so had my grandfather to a great degree even in his old age. Joe lacked it. Joe seemed vulnerable as none of those others did. One felt about them that no matter what happened they would rise above it. The fact was Joe seemed boyish almost when I thought of him beside Rolf. There was no doubt in my mind that, but for the fears which had grown out of that terrible night, I would have been deeply in love with Rolf. Perhaps I still was. That was why I clung to my original image of him, deceiving myself, telling myself that there was some mistake.

Yet I had never been able to bring myself to ask him outright; and the reason was that I feared the answer.

Was I always going to think of Rolf? Would he always come between me and anyone else of whom I might grow fond?

Joe was interested in me. At least that was what Helena thought; and, I believed, so did Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis. Aunt Amaryllis liked young people to be happy together and therefore she thought it was pleasant for them to fall in love, particularly if they were suitable in their parents' eyes. I think Uncle Peter was pleased because he was anxious to show that in spite of the rivalry between himself and Joseph Cresswell, there was no rancour.

So we came to that week-end which turned out to be one of the most pleasant I had enjoyed for a long time.

The Cresswell home was in Surrey in the midst of the lusciously green Home Counties which are so different from Cornwall where the landscape is wild and a little fey.

Here fields looked as though they might have been mowed and the trees as though they were pruned; they did not get battered by spring gales as ours did now and then.

There was an atmosphere of prosperity which one even sensed in the lanes. Buttercups and daisies abounded in the fields and on the journey down we passed through several little villages with their greens, ancient churches and almshouses all so neat and orderly and very attractive. Our Cornish villages lacked the opulence and the well-planned architecture even of the small cottages.

Rolf had once said that it was the difference between Anglo Saxon discipline and Celtic laisser faire.

The Cresswell house was large and the rooms cosy. As soon as one I entered it one had the impression that it was not meant as a show I piece but to be lived in. In the big drawing room with its French (windows opening on to a lawn, there were books everywhere; some ion the floor; there was a great fireplace with a long stool in front of it. It was a room in which one immediately felt at ease for one knew "there would be a complete lack of ceremony.

Mrs. Cresswell was waiting to greet us. She embraced us warmly and said how glad she was that we had come.

Did I mind sharing with Helena? She had a larger houseful than she had anticipated.

Frances had come.